The 30 Greatest Sports Conspiracy Theories of All-Time - Elliott Kalb [116]
So what makes this a conspiracy as opposed to just a really questionable call? Well, according to some conspiracy theorists (not all of whom are Raiders fans), the NFL may have had a vested interest in seeing the Patriots prevail.
EVIDENCE SUPPORTING A CONSPIRACY
As a New York Giants season-ticket holder and passionate fan of pro football, I’ve watched hundreds, if not thousands, of football games in my life. And the first time I had ever heard the phrase “Tuck Rule” was the evening of January 19, 2002. Sure, I’d seen plenty of calls overturned because of a quarterback’s arm moving forward—that’s well-worn territory—but until that night I had never seen a quarterback stop his throwing motion, put his nonthrowing hand on the ball, lose the ball, and not have it called a fumble. It was almost like the officials came up with the rule on the spot. But don’t just take my word for it. I may have seen a lot of games, but I’m a fan, not an expert.
Tom Flores, however, is an expert. By 2001, Flores had spent close to forty years in pro football as a player, coach, and broadcaster, winning two Super Bowls as head coach of the Raiders. Working this game for San Francisco’s KSFO (560 AM) alongside play-by-play man Greg Papa, Flores expressed astonishment at Coleman’s call.
“Oh no!” Flores shouted from the broadcast booth. “I don’t believe that,” adding, “I’m just surprised. I’m just surprised because Walt Coleman overturned his own call.”
If a guy like Flores, who had spent most of his life in football, and who had reached the pinnacle of his profession, could be surprised by Coleman’s bizarre reversal, then maybe (just maybe) there’s something more to it than meets the eye. Granted, Flores was hardly an impartial observer in this scenario, but it’s also doubtful that his reaction in the booth that night wasn’t genuine. It was a call informed by forty years of pro football experience. It was also a call echoed by color man Phil Simms, a former NFL quarterback of fourteen seasons, who had a similar reaction in the CBS television booth that night while calling the game with his partner, Greg Gumbel. And the next day, while calling the play-by-play for the Baltimore-Pittsburgh divisional game, CBS′s venerable Dick Enberg quipped “How can you call a pass incomplete when the man doesn’t want to throw the ball?”
If you were to ask Al Davis, the cantankerous 80-year-old owner of the Raiders, he’d likely tell you it’s because the league has been out to get him for years. Decades. In fact, Davis has been feuding with NFL management going back to the days before the AFL-NFL merger which, for the record, he opposed (and was not party to). Known for his litigiousness as much as for his relentless “commitment to excellence” (the man once tried to sue the Carolina Panthers because their uniform colors included both silver and black, which Davis argued infringed on the Raiders’ brand) the self-styled “maverick” had long been a thorn in the side of NFL Commissioner Pete Rozelle and later his successor, Paul Tagliabue.
In 1980, when Davis attempted to move the Raiders from Oakland to Los Angeles, Rozelle had him blocked by a court injunction. In retaliation, Davis filed an anti-trust lawsuit against the NFL, and in June of 1982, a federal district court ruled in Davis’ favor. Davis was also the only NFL owner who supported the fledgling United States Football League (or USFL) when its members filed an anti-trust suit of their own against the NFL in 1986 (see chapter #22). And after playing in Los Angeles from 1982 to 1994 (and winning a championship in 1983), Davis moved the Raiders back to Oakland in 1995 and again sued the league, this time claiming that the NFL deliberately sabotaged