A better targeting rule and 4 other proposals to improve college football

The rules of football change every year. Most of the changes are pretty minor, but the game isn’t a static image. However, sometimes change can be a little slow for our liking, and we just wish things would get shaken up a little now and then.

With that in mind, I’ve come up with some rule changes that range from serious and totally reasonable to “Listen, it might destroy the game as we know it.” Which ones are which are up to you. Also, please add ideas of your own in the comments.

This applies mainly to targeting penalties, but it would work with other personal foul penalties.

The current version of the targeting rule is widely hated, despite its good and essential intentions. Giving more discretion to referees is rarely a good move, but I would prefer to empower referees to rule targeting occurred, but potentially allow the defender to remain in the game, if a slippery field contributed or the contact was minor or what have you. That player receives a penalty and a warning, but not an ejection.

This would mean a hit like this, which was correctly ruled as targeting despite looking nowhere near as malicious as the hits we usually think of, could perhaps earn a warning rather than an automatic boot:

A player picking up his second personal foul of the game, regardless of type, would result in a red card and ejection. This would apply to all personal fouls, not just targeting. Like they can now, referees could eject a player with a red card on a first offense, if it was bad enough.

The rules that govern which players are eligible receivers on a given play are clear. It’s pretty rare that the ball finds its way into the hands of an ineligible player. (This isn’t referring to the illegal-man-downfield part of the rule, which plenty of teams have hacked.)

However, considering how much the world enjoys seeing big dudes with the football in their hands trying to make plays, I think this can use some loosening.

So how about this: if an ineligible receiver ends up with the ball in his hands via a tipped pass or act of desperation, it won’t be ruled a penalty so long as he can get a first down. Fall 1 yard short? Sorry pal, march it back, rules are rules.

This might not come into play often, but it’s one way to legislate more “Oh that was really fun, just let him have it!” into the rulebook.

Here’s an example that doesn’t perfectly fit, because the recipient isn’t even downfield, but just try not to root for the big guy:

“The ball! I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make-nooooooooooo!”

And please excuse this use of an NFL play for the purpose of illustrating this play. Seeing a big fella make a glory run, just to slide short of the first down, was too good to pass up. I’m bending the rules here too, you see.

Drop kicks are still in the American football rule book, but it might as well be against the rules. It’s relatively risky compared to a standard field goal, and there’s no reward for trying it compared to just setting up with a holder.

Kids don’t learn how to properly execute a drop kick -- wherein the ball is dropped and touches the ground before being kicked -- so it’s just something that doesn’t happen.

However, in football’s spiritual cousin, rugby, drop kicks happen all the time. People can drop kick with great accuracy, and it’s been used time and again in high-pressure situations. One of the most memorable was this last-second drop goal by England fly-half Jonny Wilkinson to clinch the 2003 Rugby World Cup over Australia.

To sweeten the pot, let’s award five points for successful drop goals, rather than three. Football players are dynamic athletes, and I have little doubt players could learn how to kick a reasonably accurate drop kick. Five-point drop goals would drastically change red zone strategy and would be fun as hell to watch.

The more elongated shape of the American football compared to a rugby ball may present some difficulties, but hey, adjust.

While we’re on the topic of kicking, let’s talk about regular field goals.

One of the biggest crowd-pleasers is when a kick doinks off the upright, usually to bounce out and result in no points. It’s great for a laugh, but it’s kind of cruel when you think about it. There’s so much empty space out there, and the kicker managed to hit the ball off one of the two thin poles sticking up in the air. It’s actually pretty impressive.

So, in our brave new world, a kick that hits an upright is worth one point. If that kick hits an upright and ends up going in, the point gets added onto the three for the field goal. If the kick manages to bang the crossbar and an upright, you get a point for each post.

This won’t do much to change in-game strategy, but it’s fun, and that’s reason enough.

Chin up, my kicking friend! You may not have gotten three points, but that’s worth one!

And if we turn the physics off and a kick somehow contacts both uprights and the crossbar and goes in, that team automatically wins.

(Also, we’ll install Jimbo Fisher’s upright lasers to ensure no Duke-Indiana Pinstripe Bowl situations occur again.)

College football’s overtime format is nearly perfect. Each team getting a chance at least once, plus erratic kicking, means every year we’re treated to at least one 3OT-or-higher thriller.

But one thing could use some tinkering: where each team starts with the ball. Teams currently start overtime sessions at the opponent’s 25-yard line, but that means they basically start in decent field goal range.

If a team didn’t move the ball an inch, it would still have a 42-yard attempt, which is tough for a lot of college kickers but far from impossible. If you moved the starting spot back to the 40-yard line, that 42-yard field goal becomes a 57-yard attempt, which means most teams would have to get at least a first down before they could feel good about kicking.

However, in order to prevent Wake Forest-Virginia Tech from lasting a whole week, let’s move the ball in by 5 yards after each frame. Eventually, somebody will be close enough to score.