[Much of the
analysis that follows, and the story of Virgil Carter, comes from
“The Hidden Game of Football” by Carroll, Palmer and Thorn, first
published in 1988]
Greek
tragedy doesn't do the boffo box office it did in Aristotle's day.
In 2015, we're more into RomComs or CGI spectaculars or comedies like
“Bad Bosses 2,” with Jennifer Anniston as the irrepressible
nymphomaniac. Nevertheless, the ancient echoes of “Oresteia” and
“Medea” and “Oedipus” still speak to us of the inevitability
of doom that follows, that must follow, a moral transgression.
I
am speaking, of course, of the Green Bay – Seattle game, a Greek
tragedy with Packers coach Mike McCarthy in the role of Oedipus, for
that is what Packer fans were calling him after the game. Well, not
“Oedipus” exactly, but its modern 12-letter equivalent. In the
first quarter, you didn't know how the Pack would pay for its
sins against the gods of football, but you knew they would.
I
watched the game with a horrifying certainty that Green Bay would be
punished, with the suspense and drama residing only in the method by
which their comeuppance would be exacted. An emergency on-field leg
amputation for Aaron Rodgers? A Green Bay coach disemboweled in a
bizarre sideline accident involving a linebacker, a cheerleader and a
parabolic microphone? Instead, the vengeance from Mount Olympus was
simple, but perfectly fit the crime. After giving away points in
that first quarter (to the Seahawks! in Seattle! in the NFC
Conference Championship!), Green Bay found itself, as the clock
ticked down to 0:00 in regulation, needing just one of those
squandered points for a victory they had thrown away. (And by the
way, did anyone on Planet Earth think Green Bay would win in
overtime?)
It
was the field goals, of course. You can't kick those field goals.
In the first quarter, with 8 minutes remaining, Mike McCarthy was
facing 4th and goal at the 1/2-yard line. He didn't
hesitate, and sent out the fieldgoal team to kick an 18-yarder.
(Mike
McCarthy: You're looking especially hot today, Jocasta!
Jocasta:
I dunno, Mike, it feels funny somehow.
Mike:
Hey, what could go wrong?
Jo:
Oh...OK. Can you unzip me? Oh, wait. That's right. Zippers
haven't been invented yet!)
Three
minutes later, following a Seattle turnover, Green Bay again found
itself 4th and goal at the Seattle 1-yard line, and
McCarthy again took the three points.
You
can't kick those fieldgoals. You can't kill your father and you
can't have sex with your mother and you can't kick those fieldgoals.
I'm not really sure which of the three is worse, though I lean toward
the fieldgoals. I guess I'll leave that issue to the professional
theologians and philosophers.
The
reasoning is not complicated, and you would think that most football
coaches would have figured out the 4th-and-1-in-the-first-quarter
scenario by the time they got their first paying job (or would have
had it explained to them). We are only looking at two choices
here---kick it or go for it---and all we have to do is calculate the
resulting points (the “expectation”) from each option.
Option
A, the fieldgoal, is easy to assess. You are almost certain to make
a fieldgoal from that distance. Call it 97%. Multiplying 97% by 3
points is about 2.9 points, and that is your expectation. On the
rare occasion the kick is missed, Seattle gets the ball on its
20-yard-line, which, as we will see later, holds no advantage for
either side.
Option
B, trying for the touchdown, is a bit more complicated since there
are two possible significant outcomes---you score the touchdown or
you don't---and the differing expectations from these alternatives
must be summed.
First,
the chance of making a first down (or in this case, a touchdown) on
4th and 1 does not vary much from year to year in the NFL.
You have about a 66% (or 2/3) chance of making the first down.
Since a touchdown is worth 7 points, going for it nets you 2/3 times
7, or 4.6 points. This is already 1.7 points better than the 2.9
points to be expected from the fieldgoal.
(These
are averages, of course, and the odds for a particular team against
another particular team in a particular situation may be different.
But is there any reason to think Green Bay's chances, even against
Seattle, are worse than the league average?)
But
there's more! What about the 1/3 of the time Green Bay fails to make
the touchdown, and Seattle takes over at its 1-yard-line? What are
the expected points arising out of that situation?
For
this, we turn to the work of Virgil Carter, a BYU quarterback who
became an NFL journeyman and backup for three teams in the 1960's.
He was not a great QB, but he was a smart guy, and he had the
brilliant insight that field position in football could be expressed
as a number of expected points for one team or the other. His
findings were published in Operations Research in 1971.
Carter
compiled years of data from NFL games and determined, for example,
that a team with a first down at the 50 yard line has an expectation
of +2 points. This doesn't mean they would score a safety, and it
doesn't mean they would score at all in their current possession. It
means that when you average all the “next scores” in all the
games where a team had a first down at the fifty, the average result
was +2 points for that team. This could also be expressed as a -2
expectation for the team on defense.
All
of which brings us to Seattle's expectations if they succeeded in
stopping Green Bay and took over possession at their own 1 yard line.
According to Virgil Carter (and subsequent work), Seattle's
expectation with a first down at its own 1 is -2 points. In other
words, if you are stuck that deep in your own territory, the other
team is more likely to make the next score than you are.
Remember
that 2/3 of the time, Green Bay scores its touchdown, with an
expectation of 4.6 points. The other 1/3 of the time, when Green Bay
fails, they are still a favorite to put up the next points,
and that expectation is equal to 1/3 times 2 points, or .7 points.
Green
Bay, by going for the touchdown, expects 4.6 plus .7 points, or a
total of 5.3. Since their expectation when kicking the fieldgoal is
only 2.9 points, they give away 2.4 points when they kick from the 1
yard line. And they did it twice.
Kicking
those fieldgoals was a dreadful mistake. Green Bay gave away almost
5 points by doing so. Worse, they summoned the vengeful gods of
football and made their defeat the only just result.
There
are people who will not criticize a coach for doing something
unforgivably stupid, like kicking those fieldgoals. The broadcasters
certainly didn't. They said something like, “Seattle forced the
Packers to go for three.” Of course, the Seahawks did no such
thing. McCarthy did what he did because in a situation he has seen
hundreds of times in his career, HE HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DO! Or he
“went by his gut” (another dopey thing broadcasters will often
say), as if there is no objective answer to the question of whether
to kick the fieldgoal or try for the touchdown. But there is. There
always is. Sometimes it can be a close call, but there is always an
objectively correct answer. And this was decidedly not a close call.
When
you are playing blackjack and you have twelve while the dealer is
showing a face card, you take a card. You do so not because you
“have a feeling,” but because it is the correct play. Presented
with that situation a million times, you will win more (or lose less)
by taking a card than by standing pat. Your feelings have nothing to
do with it. Among other things, the cards don't know you have
feelings and they wouldn't care about your feelings even if they did
know. The inexorable percentages in the NFL are much the same way.
Mike
McCarthy won a Superbowl a few years ago, and it's hard to fire a guy
like that no matter how little he knows about basic game strategies.
What Green Bay should do, however, is to hire some local kid who
plays poker and backgammon and a few other games, and have him stand
on the sidelines with Mike and tell him when to punt or go for it or
kick a fieldgoal or when to go for two after a touchdown. You
wouldn't have to pay him much---let's say $100 a game and a few
hotdogs. He would win a game for them every year, a game they should
win but which Mike McCarthy would otherwise piss away.
**
** **
And
then there's the Superbowl, featuring Seattle and Green Bay,
which Vegas says is a pick-um. Based on my numbers, Seattle is
better. Surprisingly perhaps, the Seahawks win the yards/pass
contest 6.4 to 6.1. With defensive yards/pass, they are even better.
Seattle wins that matchup by a 4.7 to 5.3 score.
As
you may have gathered, I don't like Seattle much. I don't like the
way they play, I don't like their ethically-challenged coach who left
USC one step ahead of NCAA sanctions, and I don't like the way the
NFL allows them to get away with what is politely called their
“defense.” Also, I have grown fond of Bill Belichick for his
increasing resemblance, behaviorally and even physically, to Richard
Nixon. I want New England to win.
However,
I don't think they will. “Inflategate,” or as I prefer to call
it, “Ballghazi,” probably hurts New England here. First, it's a
continuing distraction for the Patriots, while Seattle is left
entirely unmolested by the media and can focus completely on their
game plan. In addition, the media obsession with New England can be
used by the Seahawks to pump themselves up. I mean, here they are,
the World Champions, back for a second title, and nobody is
talking about them. They ain't getting no respect, and it
probably pisses them off.
After
the gift victory from the Packers, Seattle wins the Superbowl this
year.
Copyright2015MichaelKubacki