#(as in a penalty try is an automatic try points haul to the team without the need to kick for the posts)

[6ebe]

Football needs an equivalent to a penalty try like if a foul that stopped a most likely goal occurs surely something more than a penalty kick which can be stopped by the goalkeeper is warranted otherwise players are incentivised to foul in the penalty zone

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Concept: RED Spy is down, his watch damaged and the knife blasted from his hand by a clever strike from a BLU. His ribs ache from the force of being hurled bodily into the unforgiving soil of Teufort’s rocky ground, and he grits his teeth into a snarl. 

He can fight without his knife, he lived this long as a Spy prior to this whole mess of a contract... but it would not be easy. His ankle feels damaged, twisting as he rolled and Spy curses at the misfortune; still, his arms were hale enough to enact a chokehold when the opportunity arose. 

The sun disappears as looming shadows block the light, and hearty chuckles linger in the air, the malice behind the sound sending a shudder through the espionage agent. He understood, this was... well, it was personal to a degree, if he had a downed BLU then of course he would think nothing of enacting some quick revenge for a past death/insult.

But it was also their job. He hoped to take at least one down with him, if possible... but it would not be the end of the world to die here and now, later he could hunt them down and delight in the gurgled screams as his butterfly knife pierced their spinal columns. 

Blood dribbled slowly from the shallow indentations in his bottom lip wheren a few teeth had pierced accidentally during the heavy impact. Spy’s tongue darted out automatically to catch it, equally thrilled and revolted by the taste of the coppery substance... 

He grunts as a heavy Texan boot digs into his side, and two voices laugh uproariously as if the world’s wittiest joke had just been exchanged. They would pay for tha-...

His vision flashes sharply a second later, pain radiating through his face like an explosion as a steel-capped boot makes contact; without even consciously registering it, Spy knows his nose is broken. That was a sensation he had become all too familiar with in the past. 

He cries out as something heavy crunches down on his legs, efectively trapping him. 

“Aw, don’t be such a wuss Spah, I manage to carry that around when it’s full all’a the time!” the BLU engineer coos, his expression worryingly unhinged, though not unfamiliar... the RED Engineer had made the same face a truly disconcerting number of times in the past. 

Indeed, the toolbox weighed more than one would suspect, and if his ankle had not been shattered before, it certainly was now. There was only one solution, if he could but find it... where was his-...? 

“Oh laddie, don’t go looking for your pretty little pistol... our spook went and knicked that when ye blacked out for a second, like the delicate little crossaint ye are.” BLU Demo taunted, crouching down over the RED. 

Spy did not recall blacking out, but that’s not generally a good sign...

“You are, as ever, outclassed here, mon frier.” came a smug voice so like his own that it irritated to no end, as the BLU Spy faded into visibility.

If this had been the first death of the day, or even the twelfth, then perhaps he would not have stopped trying to find a solution. Beady blue eyes darting subtly around until some ingenious escape plan came to light and he could be freed from this mess...

But it wasn’t, and he was so, so very tired. Between the Pyro, Sniper and a number of rather lucky swipes from the BLU Medic, Spy had been dying all day long. He would love for this to end quickly... but given the location, and the unlikelihood of help arriving in time to curb the enthusiasm of the currently losing team surrounding him... Spy felt that things were not in his favour this day.

Hovering gently across the room, the intel gleamed innocuously, cruelly. A beacon that lured them all to their deaths day in, day out on these damn capture the flag campaigns; a beloved sight for both the teams’ benefactors. 

And so they died, day after day, for nothing more than a glowing briefcase with an ever-changing array of useless paper inside. Why, last week there had been a recipe for some fried chicken with eleven herbs and spices... useless, though Engineer had been eager to try it, as had another fried chicken afficiando on the team. 

The week before? A number of magazines, a short story about some science fiction show he was certain may have been written by one of the Pyros, and a crudely drawn map to different households that Spy could not make heads or tails of...

A slap snapped him back to reality, sending fresh waves of sizzling pain through his face as the damage to his nose once again took his full focus. 

“Looks as if he’s back with us again.” BLU Spy said, radiating smugness from every pore as he flicked out his knife with unnecessary flourishes. “Good evening Monsieur, seeing as you will be staying with us for some time, I would hope you will be an obbliging guest... and not miss out on the festivities. Such as,” he said, pointing the blade directly at a blue pupil, “when I remove your eye from its socket, hmmm?”

“Hey, I called dibs on ‘im first boyo.” BLU Demo exclaims, swatting at the blade-wielding hand, and trying not to look too pleased as it scored a deep groove across Spy’s face. Spy hisses at him through clenched teeth, loathing the man. “He needs those eyes to see what ol’ eyelander and I are gonna do tae him, aye?” 

“Just don’t go hogging him, I’ve had to rebuild a dozen sentries today because of him. Not to mention my back’s achin’ somethin’ fierce from all the damn backstabbing the little red weasel’s gotten away with.” BLU Engie interjected, groaning as he stretched, fingers and spine making awful audible pops. The man flexed his gloved hand and the mechanical whirring sent chill straight down the Spy’s spine. “Now see, I’m thinkin’ that fair’s fair only if’n I get to pull yours right on out of that body of yours. Whatcha think about that, you filthy RED?”

It would technically fall under ‘fair’, but not anything Spy particularly wanted to experience. Before he could open his mouth in his own defence, with a smooth ‘Gentlemen, please...’ the mechanical fist slammed in from the side. Bile rose automatically in his throat at the sensation of a tooth dislodging and blood filling his mouth. The BLUs seemed wildly unhinged today, beyond their normal bloodlust... but they had lost all week long, so they may be getting sanctions and penalties from the Administrator.

His head whirled. When was the last time he’d had more than a few hours sleep this week? The last time he drank some actual water or ate something substantial? Maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess if he’d not insisted on skipping the team lunch during ceasefire, in order to do some covert surveillance in the enemy intel. 

Consciousness flickered. 

There were delighted but angry voices jabbering back and forth about ‘waiting their turn’, and ‘going a little easy to start because the french fry had to last’...

And then, there was screaming.

It was almost like a bad horror movie, with the sounds of screaming, crunching and swearing flickering in and out. Little snippets of a full scene that he could not comprehend as his battered head swam...

In the sudden silence, loud and grotesque for the heaviness of it, all that could be heard was a sharp, angry series of breaths.

Spy blinked frantically, trying to ascertain what had happened, trying to cling to the here and now when all his body & mind wished for was to give in to the swirling darkness. 

A figure coalesced before him, eyes seeming to glow with a feral light, body and bat completely splattered with blood and gore, expression half in shadow. 

“S-Sco-...?” Spy tried to get the word out around damaged molars and a outhful of blood. Everything throbbed, but the silence was a symphony of hope to his ears.

“Don’t worry, they won’t fuckin’ touch you again, Spy. I got ‘em.” growled an unusually serious Scout, his fist shaking around the bat’s handle. He seemed frozen, a figure in a portrait surrounded by the broken corpses of the BLUs, uncertain what to do next.

A wheezey exhalation from Spy seemed to snap the runner out of it, and he knelt to shove against the toolbox pinioning the espionage agent to the ground. It clunked to the ground with a heavy metallic finality, and Spy sighed at the sudden freedom. 

“Ya look like shit, Spook, so we gotta get ya out of here before those guys fall outta respawn lookin’ for revenge.”Scout says, mouth running while his eyes dart over the mess that the normally immaculate espionage agent made. He slips an arm under Spy and they slowly work the man into a sititng position.

Ankle’s definitely shattered, Spy notes with a true lack of enthusiasm.

“Scout... just prop me against the wall there and take the intel. Once it is secured, they cannot touch me anyway, as the humiliation round will keep me safe.” 

“And just who the fuck do you think you are ordering me about like that?” Scout objects, eyes never once leaving Spy’s face. 

“Someone who wants to win as much as I do?” Spy hazards.

Scout leans back on his haunces, crouched by Spy. He tilts his head, “Ya a real bastard, ya know that? I don’t care about the intel, we gotta get you outta here. But if it means that much to ya...”

In a frankly ridiculously fluid movement, Scout is up, across the room and back again before Spy could blink. The intel snapped to his back like a magnet.

Spy is hauled to his feet with minimal protestations, an arm over Scout’s shoulders and the runner’s other one about his waist. The majority of his bodyweight was resting on the runner, and Spy felt rather despondent about their chances of surviving like this.

He said so.

“The others are coming, don’t worry about it.” Scout grinned. 

Heavy machinegun fire could be heard above near the BLU spawn, along with delighted maniacal laughter. The REDs were here, and judging by the beeping of a sentry, they were spawncamping like no tomorrow.

“See? We got this. So don’t worry about it.” Scout shrugs as they begin the slow ascent up the corridor and hiopefully towards a dispenser. Spy lurching along and trying to think of other things as each jostling movement created little discomforts. 

In a momentary pause, he looks to the runner. “Merci, mon... fils.” 

The words felt too big for such a narrow corridor to hold all at once.

Scout laughed, half in delight and half from awkward nervousness. “Yeah, yeah, you better thank me. I saved ya butt in there!”

They continued hobbling towards the rest of RED for a long moment, before Scout said, looking anywhere but at Spy. “Don’t worry about it... Dad... I got ya.”

Spy could not help but smile through a mouth of bloody, broken teeth. Suddenly, the world felt a little brighter... 

The End

[junker-town]

College pass interference rules are better for DBs than the NFL’s

The NFL’s illegal contact rule and spot enforcement of pass-interference penalties makes life hard on defenders.

College football’s pass interference rule is similar to the NFL’s. But the punishment for breaking the NFL rule can be a lot worse, and the professionals also have to deal with an “illegal contact” rule that changes how pass defense works.

What qualifies as interference is basically the same in college football and in the NFL.

There are other, related rules. We’ll get to those. But pass interference is simple.

The NCAA’s college rule starts like this:

Defensive pass interference is contact beyond the neutral zone by a [defensive] player whose intent to impede an eligible opponent is obvious and could prevent the opponent the opportunity of receiving a catchable forward pass. When in question, a legal forward pass is catchable.

It’s not pass interference in these cases:

When, after the snap, opposing players immediately charge and establish contact with opponents at a point that is within one yard beyond the neutral zone.

When two or more eligible players are making a simultaneous and bona fide attempt to reach, catch or bat the pass.

When a [defensive] player legally contacts an opponent before the pass is thrown.

There’s another thing about weird special-teams plays in there, but you get it.

Incidental contact can happen while a defender and a receiver try to make a play on the ball. That’s not a penalty. Neither is contact by a defender within a yard of the line of scrimmage. Otherwise, you know pass interference when you see it, and so do officials.

The NFL rule on pass interference is not substantively different:

It is pass interference by either team when any act by a player more than one yard beyond the line of scrimmage significantly hinders an eligible player’s opportunity to catch the ball. Pass interference can only occur when a forward pass is thrown from behind the line of scrimmage, regardless of whether the pass is legal or illegal, or whether it crosses the line.

The NFL has a long list of prohibited acts here, but again, they include just what you’d expect: any “contact by a player who is not playing the ball that restricts the opponent’s opportunity to make the catch,” playing through a guy’s back, hooking his arm, cutting off his running path without playing the ball, pushing off him, etc.

Both college and the NFL also have offensive pass interference rules.

At both levels, the offense can’t block the defense beyond the line of scrimmage while the ball’s in the air. Receivers aren’t allowed to push off defenders. Certain kinds of pick routes, in which receivers get in the way of DBs while the ball’s in the air, are illegal. Those depend on how incidental the offense can convince the officials the contact is.

But there’s a big difference in what defenders can do at the two levels.

Both sports have “illegal contact” rules to punish defenders for GETTIN’ TOO PHYSICAL beyond the line of scrimmage. Illegal contact is pass interference’s rulebook cousin.

This is where the rules in the NFL are a lot tougher on defenders. In the pros, defenders can “chuck” or jam or joust with receivers for the first five yards. After that, they’re not allowed to initiate contact. The penalty for illegal contact is five yards and an automatic first down.

In college, the five-yard window doesn’t exist. Defenders can’t initiate contact with receivers while the ball’s in the air, but they can joust with them all the way down the field until the QB throws. DBs get to beat up on receivers a lot longer in college games.

The punishment for pass interference can be way more severe in the NFL.

In college, the penalty for defensive pass interference is 15 yards if the foul happened more than that distance downfield. If it happened closer to the line of scrimmage, the ball goes to the spot of the foul. So in college, if a receiver gets hauled down while trying to catch a deep ball 50 yards downfield, the offense doesn’t get those 50 yards. It gets 15.

In the NFL, the same penalty moves the offense to the spot of the foul. That’s why you see periodic 60-yard pass interference calls. The league considered moving to college’s 15-yard rule after 2017. It didn’t, though.

Both rulebooks have exceptions for pass interference in or around the end zone. The NFL puts the ball at the 1-yard line for defensive PI in the end zone. College puts the ball at the 2 if the snap came from between the defense’s 2 and 17. If the snap came from inside the 2, the penalty for DPI just moves it half the distance.

All pass interference carries an automatic first down.

In short: College DBs have it way easier than their NFL counterparts.

They can get away with more, and the penalty when they get caught doesn’t carry as much risk as pass interference in the pros.