America At Large: After the yellow flag flew through the air with just under nine minutes remaining in the first half of last Sunday night's Patriots-Bills game in Foxboro, referee Ron Winter stepped off five yards against the home team.
The NFL official switched on his field microphone and announced to the 68,567 on hand at Gillette Stadium that the Patriots were being penalised for having committed "an unnatural act". In the TV booth, the ESPN broadcast team vainly attempted to suppress guffaws. As I sat bolt upright in my chair two thoughts flashed to mind: (1) Did I miss spotting a sheep in the huddle? (2) Didn't anyone tell Ron Winter gay marriage is legal in Massachusetts?
Only after the game did we get a full explanation. The more elaborate description of the transgression in question was "performing an unnatural act, not common to the game, in an attempt to get the offence to false-start", and it had been assessed against New England linebacker Mike Vrabel, who had attempted to confuse the Buffalo offensive line by shouting out a sequence of numbers even as quarterback Kelly Holcomb tried to go through his snap count. That such "unnatural acts" are against the rules had apparently never occurred to Vrabel, a nine-year NFL veteran, but if he'd asked me, I could have told him.
My own encounter with this obscure section of the rule book came on a Thanksgiving morning several years ago. I'd been dispatched to cover one of those high school games that are a tradition in Massachusetts, and during the play one of the teams was penalised for an infraction so obscure that after the game I sought out the referee for an explanation.
It turned out that when one team's quarterback began to enunciate his signals, an opposing lineman had taken to barking like a dog in an attempt to disrupt the snap count. It made for what I thought was a cute little story, though I can't recall a word of it apart from the fact that the headline included the words "Woof! Woof!" I thought no more about it, but several months later I received an irate letter from the boy's parents, who chastised me for having turned their son into an object of ridicule in the pages of the Boston Herald. Evidently some of his class-mates had taken to barking aloud each time he passed them in the hall, and the young fellow had become so traumatised by what had become a daily experience that he was now in danger of flunking out.
I filed this information away as a reminder that sometimes teenage athletes should be treated a bit gentler than their collegiate and professional counterparts, and to the best of my knowledge I haven't written anything since that might imperil the high school graduation rate. But it's a pity that in the half-dozen years I've known him I never shared that story with Mike Vrabel.
While it seemed important at the time, as it turned out Vrabel's "unnatural act" didn't cost the Patriots, who rallied in the second half to pull out a 21-16 win. The victory left the defending world champions 4-3 on the year, which in the misbegotten AFC North is good enough for undisputed possession of first place.
Although the divisional lead was in the offing, the outcome was almost an afterthought to Sunday night's game, which also marked the return of Tedy Bruschi to the football field.
Bruschi is an inspirational, undersized and overachieving New England linebacker who was a key component in the Patriots' three Super Bowl wins over the past four years. Last February, days after playing in his first Pro Bowl, he was rushed to hospital after suffering a stroke. Later in the spring he underwent surgery on a hole in his heart. It was widely assumed he would never play football again.
Even when Bruschi announced he would sit out the 2005 season but hoped to play next year most of us nodded and said, "Yeah, sure," but a few weeks ago word came he had obtained medical clearance to begin practising with the team. Decimated by injuries, the Patriots had stumbled badly coming out of the gate this season, and he believed he could help to right the ship.
Were Bruschi a boxer, the testimony of all the doctors in the world wouldn't, in all likelihood, suffice to get him his licence back. And a boxer would at least have the argument that he was being deprived of his livelihood. The Patriots were prepared to pay Bruschi his $850,000 salary this year whether he played or not.
That he was not only on the field but actually participated in 76 plays last Sunday night was treated as the feel-good story of the year. We're still not entirely persuaded of the wisdom of the exercise, but in the end it's his life and his call.
(It was suggested the Patriots had demanded a medical waiver absolving them from responsibility if things didn't go well, but the team denies this.) Bruschi, who just eight months ago had difficulty walking (and seeing; his vision was also impaired by the stroke), was on the field for virtually every defensive snap (and since Buffalo had the ball for the preponderance of the game, there were a lot of them) in addition to playing on special teams.
Three plays into the game Bruschi was in on his first tackle. He quickly sprang to his feet.
"Normally I'm a guy who gets slowly to his feet after each hit," he recalled. "It's partly a matter of taking inventory, partly a matter of conserving energy. But I knew my wife was watching in the stands so I wanted to bounce right back up."
He was in on seven tackles, two of them solo, modest totals by his own lofty standards, but the important thing from his perspective was that he was able to play - and with his usual abandon.
He seemed embarrassed to be the centre of attention. "Sometimes," he said, "you've just got to pick yourself up off the ground and get back to living your life. That's all I'm trying to do."
