Of course I am talking about the final play of regulation where the trailing team either A) fields a kickoff down a score, or B) initiates the lateraling sequence from the snap because they are out of field goal and/or Hail Mary range. Most recently I enjoyed the end of the 2005 Michigan-Nebraska Alamo Bowl (our NFL pals Mike Hart, Chad Henne, Steve Breaston, Mario Manningham and Jason Avant are all prominently involved):
The greatest thing about this play is that, at the point when the announcer says "And the ballgame is over!" the ball game was in fact not over. The announcer claims that the ball is caught by a Michigan guard (and then tackled by a Nebraska player), but the guard clearly never has possession of the football. So when Mike Hart picks it up and runs down the sideline, as the entire Nebraska sideline empties on the field, replay would have clearly shown that the play was indeed still live. Obviously, the refs could have ruled "inadvertent whistle" and denied the review, but it didn't matter in the end. Luckily, a couple of Nebraska defenders did not give up and tackled Tyler Ecker at the 15-yard line. Why Tyler Ecker did not fling the ball over his shoulder as he was being pushed out of bounds (for it to then possibly land in the hands of one of the five future pro athletes?) is one of life's great mysteries.
My inspiration for writing this post was this crazy high school finish I saw earlier today:
The best part about this is not the lateral sequence as the camera work is too amateurish to properly enjoy the nuances of each lateral or, for that matter, to tell whether or not anyone was down and/or threw the ball forward. The best part is that the team who pulled it off decided to go for two, making this the insanely rare combo of 'successful kooky lateral play' + 'go-for-two for the outright win'. This actually might be the only time such a combo has occurred.
(Note: The second best part of this video is the guy off-camera screaming "get off the goalpost!" to the idiot kid who decided to help 'celebrate' the TD by dangling from the crossbar for whatever reason. Get off the goalpost indeed.)
This is making the rounds as the high school version of Stanford-Cal 'the band is on the field!' play, which is fair. But to be honest, that play is iconic only because the band came onto the field, because the trombone player got leveled, and because the announcer's call is completely bonkers:
But in the pantheon of KLPs, in my opinion, it probably isn't top 3. For starters, it only lasts about 30 seconds and features just 5 laterals.
My personal favorite is probably the 2007 SCAC title game between Trinity University and Millsaps College. The athletes aren't as good but I've yet to see anything eclipse 15 successful laterals:
So what is it about the KLP that brings me so much joy? Why when a team does not employ the KLP, in a situation where attempting one is so clearly their only chance, am I filled with such anger?
I think it's because, at its core, it is indicative of what makes the sport of football itself so enjoyable. It's about all the strange rules. The gap between a hardcore football fan and a casual football fan is larger than with perhaps any other sport. And if you've ever had the pleasure of watching a KLP in the presence of a complete football neophyte, you've surely been exposed to their WTF moment, their 'how is this strange play even remotely connected to the previous three hours of action' facial expression. Because there is nothing in the KLP that is reminiscent of any other part of the game. OK, sure, the 'hook and ladder' (which is what I've always called it) and the double reverse are distant cousins, but neither are filled with the same type of manic energy.
There is a hopelessness in the KLP that is endlessly endearing. The team that employs it instantly becomes the team you want to win (if you had no strong feelings / money on the game to begin with). It can last 5 seconds or 2 minutes. I've been straining to find a comparable moment in the other major American sports, but to no avail. There's just nothing like it. You can't compare it to a walk-off grandslam because 4-run homers happen, relatively-speaking, all the time. You can't compare it to a 3/4-court buzzer beater because that shot is still worth just three points; it's just further away from the basket and it actually is attempted as a potential Sportscenter Top 10 moment at the end of most quarters.
So much needs to happen for the KLP to have a shot. There are a handful of (some might argue) equally thrilling ways to end a football game: the Hail Mary, the go-for-two, the crazy long field goal, the late game defensive touchdown, the kneel-down 'V' formation (not thrilling, but great if you're a fan). These are all terrific, but they lack whatever the kooky lateral play has. None of those instances has the capacity to turn grown football announcers into shrieking cheerleaders.
So the next time you're watching a close football game think about what needs to happen to set up the KLP. Note all the clock management decisions and defensive stops that need to happen (or not happen) for it to work out exactly right. Of course, I write this knowing you won't do that. It's because the KLP always just happens. It happens when you have come to terms with the fact that the game you are watching is over.
Only it isn't. Not yet at least.
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