NCAA to discuss ways to curb faking injuries:
The art of faking injuries in college football
The art of faking injuries in college football
THERE ARE almost always a few sideways glances and awkward moments when players are asked about it.
Even when they've left the college ranks, they aren't comfortable saying anything unless granted anonymity. But once that's a given, the floodgates start to open up. One player grins as if he's been waiting all day to peel back the curtain on an inside joke.
How often do players fake injuries?
"In a game?" he said. "Oh, all the time. All the time."
He paused for a moment.
"Have I ever faked one? Once."
It was a few years back. He was playing Texas Tech, and the defense was in trouble.
"
Pat Mahomes was the quarterback, and you know how that offense was. Our coach said if we looked to the sideline and somebody gives us the finger" -- the gun signal -- "one of us has to go down."
He saw his cue and leapt into action.
"I just went, 'Ah!' like I had a cramp" -- grabbing his upper hamstring -- "and went down."
The ref told him to stay down, so he did.
"I looked up, and all my teammates automatically knew. It was like, 'Thank you.'"
He waited a bit before jogging off the field with a pretend limp. "You gotta sell it," he said. Teammates would heckle his Razzie-worthy performance during film review the following week, albeit with a wink and a nod.
"I think it helped the team get our feet back under us."
It might not be pretty, but he called faking injuries a "gray area" of the game. And of the defensive players we talked to, everyone agreed. Maybe some haven't participated -- or won't admit to participating -- in it themselves, but they certainly understand why it's done.
Sometimes the signal comes from the sideline, they said. Other times, it's players who take initiative.
Maybe it's because the defense doesn't have enough players on the field. Or maybe players just need to catch their breath or give coaches time to figure out the next play.
But whatever the case ...
"If you don't have or can't waste a timeout, somebody needs to go down," one player explained. "It's not someone who is necessarily expendable, but someone who can go out for a play."
Said another player: "If you are going to fake an injury, make it be good. Don't get right back on the field. ... You have to play it off."
And another: "I don't think it's looked down upon because overall you're sacrificing for your team because that person has to come off the field."
While that attitude might be prevalent among defensive players, it's not shared by all.
There are those within the game who believe the mandatory one-play exit for injured players isn't enough to disincentivize those who would fake being hurt in order to slow down opposing offenses. They don't look at it as a gray area at all. It's black and white, and they're willing to call it as they see it: outright cheating that must be stopped.
And they're taking steps to do that right now, sending the message to coaches this offseason that either they put an end to it or live with the consequences.
COACHES, administrators and players gathered in late February at NCAA headquarters in Indianapolis for a full week of meetings. To start things off on Monday, they received player health and safety reports. Then, on Tuesday, the competition committee convened.
It was at some point that afternoon that national coordinator of officials Steve Shaw showed a video to the committee's 12 voting and three non-voting members.
The first clip featured a game from last season. At the top of the screen, three receivers are bunched in a trips formation, but only two players are in position to defend. Frazzled, coaches then mistakenly send a 12th man onto the field to make up the difference. But by the time they realize it and a defender starts running toward the sideline, it's too late. The offense is already in position to snap the football, which would trigger a 5-yard penalty.
Instead, the middle linebacker suddenly drops to the turf in a blatant attempt to force an injury timeout. "He just falls like he's been shot from the upper deck," Shaw said.
To make matters worse, a cornerback on the near side of the field starts to do the same exact thing. Only he sees the middle linebacker at the last second, scrambles up, loses balance and nearly falls over before steadying himself.
Larry, Moe and Curly would have been jealous. Only Shaw wasn't laughing.
The team in question, which Shaw refused to name, was able to escape the embarrassment of two players faking an injury at the same time. But other teams in the video couldn't. Another clip showed a defender running to a teammate and forcibly pulling him down to the ground in order to stop the clock.
There was nothing subtle about it.
Every clip featured a situation in which the defense wasn't ready or was unable slow the momentum of the offense.
"When you watch this video, it's" -- Shaw said, pausing for effect -- "bad."
The competition committee discussed and debated the topic. Then the rules committee picked up the conversation the following day, watching the same video.
At one point, one of the defenses shown to be faking an injury belonged to a head coach sitting on one of the committees. According to Shaw, the coach said he was embarrassed. He couldn't believe "this actually happened under my watch."
"A lot of this college football stuff in certain leagues is a joke. ... We're going to score because we trick you better than others. I personally don't want to spend my time tricking people."Power 5 head coach