Welcome to the inaugural segment of my new gimmick: The Sports Tinkerer (yes, I’m aware the name is stupid). Anyway, like the stupid name suggests, in these pieces I'll be tinkering with certain aspects of the sports world, because, in the immortal words of Larry David, “I’m not an inventor, but I am an improver.”
And because I’ve always possessed impeccable timing, I’ll be starting with the topic on the tip of everyone's tongue in early-May. Say it with me now…NFL playoff seeding.
Two quick notes :
I both refuse to accept and have a hard time wrapping my head around the seventeen game season. In hopes I can will it back into existence, I'll mostly be using sixteen games as a baseline in this piece. Sorry in advance for any confusion. So, just to clarify, a 'ten-win team' means 10-6 and not 10-7, because I know what a ten-win-six-loss team is–I’ve seen it a thousand times. And, along those same lines, we all know the difference between a ten-win and twelve-win team with a sixteen game schedule. I don't think anyone yet has a sense of what a ‘twelve-win team’ is when they play seventeen games. Is it the same as a 12-4 team? Or more like an 11-5 team? Only time will tell.
These are just suggestions about improving the game and providing a more enjoyable experience for the fans–it’s a thought experiment more than anything. I'm not delusional enough to think anyone in the NFL will ever read this (or would take my ideas seriously even if they did), so I'm not exactly concerned about the likelihood of any of this coming to fruition. I say this because the simple retort to the second half of this idea is: “The owners will never give up the opportunity to make more money." Of course they won’t. And while I'm not as quick as others to denigrate all sports owners as greedy assholes nor do I begrudge them for wanting to turn a profit on a hundreds of millions dollar investment, I don’t really care about their pocketbook, either. Since we don't share a joint bank account, their ability to rake in every last fistful of cash year after year is far from my primary concern. So while I'll make a quick comment or two about how this suggestion could boost (or at least maintain) revenue, it’s about improving the sport, not maximizing profits through the propping up of a frivolous system.
And with that preamble out of the way, now onto the show…
One year, in an attempt to generate awareness of their group, the Indiana Organization of Women named breakfast-buffet terrorizer, bowling-technique purist and my own personal role model Ron Swanson as their Dorothy Everton Smythe Female Empowerment Award winner. And with this brazenly unconventional selection, they sent shockwaves through the Parks and Recreation Department of Pawnee Indiana. Because Leslie, who naturally assumed she’d been graced with this particular honor when she saw the envelope, had not only waited her whole life to win a Smythie, but her Camp Athena project–an achievement the IOW purposefully misattributed to Ron to justify his victory–had been such a smashing success that she rightly deserved it, as well. So, unable to appropriately stomach this injustice, she began to passively aggressively seek out her vengeance on innocent Ron. And when that didn’t produce the desired effect, she just flat out chastised him for not conducting himself like an award winner. To which, of course, he had the perfect Swansonism waiting in the hopper, quipping, "As I've won an award, everything I do is with the attitude of an award winner."
And, sadly for sports fans, the NFL, like the IOW, is also trying to cash in on a spectacle. Because just as the image that pops into your head when hearing the phrase “Female Empowerment Award winner” isn’t a surly recluse with an iconic mustache, the phrase “playoff team” doesn't automatically conjure images of the 2021 Steelers/Eagles or the 2020 WFT/Bears, either. Since none of these mediocre teams possessed those quasi-indefinable qualities that separate playoff-worthy teams from the rest of that year’s NFL, they all should’ve been denied the chance–however slight–to compete for a championship. But because of the idiotic playoff selection rules the NFL employs, these middling-at-best teams did, in fact, get that chance. So, channeling Pawnee’s favorite Parks & Rec Director, they could respond to all my criticisms with a quick, “As we've made the playoffs, everything we do is with the qualities of a playoff team.”
But Ron, of course, was just taking the piss out of Leslie. Professional football organizations, though, aren’t exactly teeming with self-awareness nor do they have a great grasp of irony, either. So I don’t think they’re even able to see the situation as it really is. I don’t think these teams could ever honestly acknowledge that their most recent January appearances had nothing to do with their level of play. I don’t think they’ll ever admit that they were simply the beneficiaries of stupid rules.
But regardless of how those teams view the situation, we, as fans, simply shouldn’t put up with this any longer. Because with the NFL’s vaulted cultural status–and the even greater importance placed on the postseason–every moment of professional football, however fleeting, should be imbued with the maximum amount of significance possible. And when the playoffs are populated with the wrong teams, large swaths of the regular season simply stop mattering, stop carrying the weight they should.
So, if sports fans rightly view the playoffs as a reward for regular season competency, what criteria can we apply to the selection process to weed out such incompetence from post-season play?
Well, that’s what tinkering is for…
Tinker the First - Automatic Berths
Let’s first address the automatic playoff berth that’s awarded to division winners. In an attempt to not throw stones in a glass house, I was fully prepared to use the 2021 AFCN as the most recent example of this going awry, and a previous article was supposed to set it up and everything. But it took less than four hours after publishing for the Bengals to make me look like a fool (keep it in check Bengals fans, it's not hard to make a fool look foolish). But the conceit behind the piece remains. Far too often–I know it’s only every couple of years, but ‘every couple of years’ is still far too often, in this case–a team wins their division yet has no business being in the playoffs.
So without the example I wanted to use, I'll go with the 2020 NFCE, and their champ with a 7-9 record, the WFT, instead. Now, I could’ve used the 2010 NFCW or 2011 AFCW, but I’ll stick with the most recent one, as it should be somewhat fresh in everyone's memory. And before we go any further, I just want to provide one quick data point as a reminder as to how dismal the 2020 NFC East actually was: With a couple weeks to go, there was a very real possibility that six wins was going to take the division. You read that right–a 6-10 team could've hosted a playoff game. Just let that sink in for a minute, because if that doesn't convince you of the need for this change, nothing will.
And what would've allowed a ten-loss team to host a playoff game? Well, it all goes back to the ruleset put in place along with the divisional realignment prior to the 2002 season, when the Texans were born and the league bumped up to an even 32 teams. And since 32 divides nicely into eight four-team groupings, ipso facto, you get our current divisional set-up. Now the set-up itself is fine, but they got a little too clever for their own good by granting the winner of each division a top-four seed. Though I’ll confess, I can’t really blame whoever dreamt up this staple, as I'm sure they assumed it would guarantee eight high-quality teams with strong regular season records to fill out the top of the playoff field.
But, unfortunately, in terms of evaluating a team's merits, simply winning a division means nothing. Because, in reality, all it signifies is that one team was better than their three divisional opponents. If those opponents were garbage, then that isn't some huge accomplishment and certainly shouldn’t guarantee a trip to the postseason. But, with the current NFL divisional set-up, it not only cements them a top-four seed, it gives them a January home game to boot. And even if that division winner can only net, I don’t know, six wins, they still get to host that playoff game–an absolutely mind-boggling possibility, especially since there are such easy fixes available.
Now, to reiterate, the realignment wasn’t the problem. To the contrary, smaller groupings have helped teams develop a stronger distaste for their divisional counterparts, leading to better, fiercer rivalries and generally more drama within the sport–all good things. And, when all four aren’t terrible, that feels like the right size. For example, each team in the NFCE detests the other three, so a fifth team would feel like a neutral-party hanger-on. And, in all honesty, I really love being part of the AFCN. They picked four cities with similar sensibilities in terms of sports fandom and general outlook, and they grouped them together. It's great. I’m sure other fans feel similarly about their own divisions. And in terms of the playoffs, when it works correctly and all eight divisions have at least one quality team, it's a pretty good system. It's only when there’s a slacker division that everything falls apart.
And it's in those instances, like with the 2020 WFT, this well-meaning design goes to shit. Because the WFT had no business in the playoffs (and for what it’s worth, had a few games broken differently at the end of the season, neither did the 2021 Ravens), much less hosting the eventual champs. And critics of my plan can say, "Well they went toe-to-toe with Brady's Bucs, which shows they should've been there. And the Bronco and Seahawk teams alluded to earlier actually won, so this whole argument is bullshit." But beating a good team at home shouldn't be the barometer for a playoff team. The Jags beat the Bills at home this year. Does anyone think the Jags deserved a playoff spot? Or that the Bills didn’t? I doubt it. Any given Sunday applies to January as much as it does September, so it’s crucial to only give those extra Sundays to teams who’ve actually earned them.
So what’s the fix? How can we stop heaping mountains of undeserved rewards onto these lackluster divisional winners?
Well, we’ll kick it off with an either/or of two potential new rules for the division winners:
Rule Option #1: If no other changes are made, teams have to have at least 10 wins to host a playoff game. Let the Washington Soon-to-be-Commanders and the Denver Tebows and the Seattle Beast Modes in, but, if the WC team has ten wins, make them play on the road. The fact that such an easy, straightforward change hasn't happened yet honestly wrinkles my brain.
Rule Option #2: If you want to get a little spicier, ten wins (or some sort of divisional winning %) becomes not only the threshold for a home game, but the threshold for an automatic bid too. If none of the four teams in a division can scrape together ten wins, why should that division have a playoff spot reserved for it? So, in short, 10 wins + a division crown guarantees a home playoff game. Anything else and they're thrown into the mix with the rest of the WC hopefuls, with the WC team with the best record then becoming the de facto four seed. No reason a 10-6 team should sit at home in January when a 6-10 team gets in because of some kooky alignment scheme cooked up two decades ago.
Now that first change helps prevent bad teams from being one of the top four seeds, but that alone isn't good enough for two reasons. First, as we just saw in 2021, terrible squads can still get into the playoffs as WCs. And second, while it helps, it doesn't fully address the fact that quality teams can get boxed out from the field. Because it's imperative we not only keep the Smythie out of Ron's hands, but we have to give every eligible Leslie out there the chance to get her paws on it, too. Meaning it's not sufficient just to keep bad teams out, we need to also make sure all deserving teams get into the dance. It’s a knotty proposition, for sure, but let’s see if we can’t tinker around with the rules concerning the number of playoff spots to accomplish this.
Tinker the Second - Number of Playoff Teams
Let's start with the most obvious question: In its two years of existence, is there any evidence to suggest that the number of playoff teams should stay at 14? 2021 screams 'Not on your life!,' with those abysmal Steelers and Eagles teams each shitting their respective beds in blowout losses. But let's jump back to 2020, as it presents a much more interesting case. Because, while no one outside of Illinois would care if the 8-8 Bears had been excluded, the 11-5 Colts (as much as it pains me to say) had every right to be there. So, yes, three out of four seven seeds have been bad, but does anyone really want an 11-5 team to miss the cut? Not at all, and that adds an extra layer of complexity to an already difficult undertaking.
So then what’s the right number? Should it be lower in an attempt to be discerning, but also potentially forcing quality teams to watch from home? Or should it be a higher number and risk watering down the competition some years? Is trying to include playoff-caliber teams like the 2020 Colts worth suffering through 2021 Pitt/Phila and 2020 Chi teams making it?
It’s a conundrum, no doubt, but there has to be a way to improve the current system, right? A way to let in the exact number so that the playoffs rewards teams for an excellent regular season while not tainting the field with sub-par competition. Because we know if we go back to six teams per conference, we’ll have to stomach the fact that good teams (like the 2021 Colts) will be watching from home some years. But if we keep it at seven, well, we already know that most years we'd be lucky to just get one dud and not two or three.
Now, you could drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out. You could pour over previous years' fields. Analyze trends in the league. Stress over the fact you can’t reasonably predict how the season will play out in 2023, much less 2033. But, you only need to look at these past two postseasons to realize there's no perfect answer–because there is no perfect number. But what if it was never a number we were searching for in the first place. What if 'playoff entrants' isn't a constant, but a variable.
Because if the sole purpose of the playoffs is to reward teams who excelled in the regular season, why not just let in however many teams had an excellent regular season. Why can’t we simply get rid of the standard number and replace it with a playoff field that fluctuates year to year–where the number of entrants for the NFL playoffs equals the number of playoff-worthy teams that season produced.
As with the divisional change, it makes sense for the threshold to be ten wins (especially with a seventeen game schedule). This could supersede the previous rule, so not only does ten wins make a team eligible for an automatic berth and a home game, but it’s the barrier for entry for a Wild Card spot, also. If only five teams in a conference can muster ten wins, then that conference will have a five-team playoff field that postseason. The four seed plays host to the five seed on WC weekend, and the other three teams get a bye. Should that same conference have eight ten-win teams the next year, the playoff field will swell to eight teams, with no byes on WC weekend. And if it has nine, the same elimination mechanisms that exist now kick in to get it down to eight teams.
So how might this play out in a real season? I’ll skip over 2021, because, again, 2020 is a better example of how cool this could be. For a refresher, take a quick peek at the end of season standings and the playoff bracket.
Using these standings, the NFC only fields five teams, because neither the WFT nor the Bears make the cut. So that makes the Bucs the four seed, playing host to the five-seed Rams as the only NFC game on WC weekend. The other three teams, the Packers, Saints and Seahawks all get a bye that week. Conversely, on the AFC side, the same seven teams would've made it as the same seeds, but the 10-6 Dolphins would've been included, too, as the eight seed. That means no byes on the AFC side, and eight deserving teams facing off on WC weekend.
Now I know some are going balk at this. I know some will think a change this drastic is patently ridiculous. But in my mind, it’s an unquestionable improvement over the current system–even if there are at least two credible objections I can see someone raising.
First, there’s the same drawback to this rule that there is to any new rule–any time you put something in a rulebook, you automatically create edge cases. For instance, I could imagine scenarios where it would behoove an eleven-win team to throw the last game of the season against a nine-win team–effectively eliminating a potential bye for a team in front of them in the standings. But we already have teams who take the last game (or two!) off. And we just saw the absolutely infuriating example where a nine-win Eagles team had nothing to play for the last week of the season. So this doesn’t create a system with skewed incentives, rather it modifies a skewed-incentive-laden existing system by improving where those skewed incentives lie. Because if it’s between a system where an eleven-win team gets to employ a little gamesmanship vs a system where a nine-win team has their playoff seed locked up, I'm going with the former every time.
The second objection someone might raise is that a team like the 2020 Chiefs doesn’t see a benefit (outside of home field advantage) from being the best team in a stronger conference, while three teams in NFC do benefit from playing in a weaker conference. I would counter by saying that ‘better’ doesn't always mean ‘more fair.’ And for the fans, this is clearly better, because watching Chiefs/Dolphins in 2020 would’ve been a lot more enjoyable for the average viewer than watching Chiefs/Steelers in 2021 (excluding us Steeler-haters, of course). So, sure, they would've been ‘punished’ by playing an extra game during their better year, but they’d also be ‘rewarded’ with a bye the next season when they weren't quite as good. Like everything, it’ll have this sort of cyclical element to it, with ‘rewards’ and ‘punishments’ doled out somewhat capriciously. But why does that have to be a negative? Were the '20 WFT/Bears and '21 Steelers/Eagles not rewarded somewhat capriciously in their respective years? At least this way, the punishment/reward balance benefits the fans and scrappy, determined teams like the '20 Dolphins (and then, of course, this whole argument could be turned on its head depending on your view of the ‘rest vs. rust’ debate–but I'll leave that tabled for the time being).
And this is where I said I would briefly touch on the owners’ bank accounts. It's simple, this system is plainly better, which means the league on the whole is better. A high tide raises all ships, and all. Yes, this year they would've lost the revenue of two playoff games. But, on the other hand, we wouldn’t have had to sit through the Bucs stomping of the Eagles or the Chiefs evisceration of the Steelers. I don't know what the ratings were–they were probably gangbusters–but if all people expect from most 2/7 future matchups is a shellacking, I can't imagine those numbers are going to remain high. Outside of the two markets involved, who wants to tune in for a foregone conclusion? To the contrary, in years when seven or eight teams have earned their way in, those games will take on a greater significance and garner huge ratings. So, with this implementation, they’re just exchanging a quick payoff for improved long-term fan engagement due to a better all-around product.
(For the really sure-legged sailors out there, check out my upcoming companion piece for an even wilder idea to make up the revenue lost)
And fan engagement should be their ultimate metric of success, and what they should be most wary of jeopardizing. Because with its current set-up (not to mention the possibility of an eighteenth game!), the NFL is at risk of squandering two of the best things it has going for it–scarcity and urgency. And if, over time, a decent portion of casual fans start to tune out on the watered-down regular season because it's all a crapshoot about who makes it to the postseason, anyway, the revenue from one or two extra playoff games won’t begin to cover those losses. But these suggested rule changes automatically reestablish the scarcity and the urgency that expansion–both the regular season and playoff varieties–undermines.
Take, for example, an imaginary run-of-the-mill 6-6 team. And let’s just say this team lucked into both having a two game lead over a weak division and being in a weak conference. With the current ruleset, they could just sit back and twiddle their thumbs, because they most likely figure there’s either an automatic bid or a seventh-seed WC spot waiting for them. And that outlook, I would bet, is pretty much the opposite of what a casual fan wants from late-season matchups involving potential playoff teams. Now, if the league were to implement what I’ve suggested, this 6-6 team would still have to hustle their asses off to get to 10 wins. And if they can't: tough titties. Because just like Ron Swanson should never win a Smythie, single-digit-win teams have no business being in the fucking playoffs, anyways.
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