What makes great sport?

Last weekend was superbowl weekend. A majority of Americans and a minority of everyone else were glued to their TV’s. Admittedly, some of those were more interested in Justin Timberlake or Tide adverts than the game. But some of us watched the game, every snap of it. And wow, what a game it was.

I was really surprised by the pundit reaction the day after the game. The consensus seemed to be that it was one of the most exciting games ever, but that it was far from the best, because the defences of both teams did not play well enough. I beg to differ. I saw many fantastic defensive plays. I also saw many other excellent attempts at defensive plays that were trumped by perfect offence. That is the way the league has set up the rules – perfect offence will usually win out, unless the defence take reckless gambles that ultimately cost more than they gain. For me, that was what we saw last Sunday, two strong and disciplined defences that somehow nullified part of two perfect offences but could not stop every play.

For me, this was not far off a perfect game, and perhaps not far off perfect sport in terms of its entertainment. It helped that I was partisan, because that always adds a dimension. As it happens, my team lost, but even immediately after the game I cared little about that, such was my awe of the spectacle.

So that got me thinking about what makes perfect sport. I qualify this in a couple of ways. First, I am thinking about watching rather than playing. For participating in sport, there would be an entirely separate debate. Next, I am thinking about watching on TV or another device rather than watching live in person. I love to attend live sports, an indeed at its best there is no substitute to being there, but a debate about watching live would bring in extra factors, such as proximity and practicality. Some sports are generally hopeless live – golf is a good example, because unless you are a caddy or walking with the players you are constantly hacking through mud to get some sort of view of some shots.

I came up with four factors that together create great TV spectacles. To an extent the factors overlap, and some elements could apply to multiple factors. But as a model I find it a reasonable starting point.

The first factor is intensity. It has to be apparent that the outcome really matters to the players and spectators. All the players should be clearly giving their full effort to win. This intensity has to be maintained throughout the event, not just ramped up for the last few minutes. And intensity is ruined by any suspicion that a contest might not be clean. Sadly, most athletics and cycling are now tainted in my eyes by the potential for doping, and cricket carries a similar risk because of gambling. Sports like wrestling, with partially fixed outcomes, are also doomed.

The second factor is athletic beauty. Some plays have to take the breath away. There has to be a sense of awesome excellence that is beautiful to behold, something that obviously takes unlikely talent and practice to execute. For it to be called a sport rather than a game, part of this must be physical, involving the brain and also other parts of the body. So chess or poker lose out on this criterion. So do snooker or darts, they are not physically demanding enough, even if the ability to perform reliably can be awesome.

The third factor is drama and tension. There have to be sustained times during the game where we are short of breath, glued to our sets, and with our minds racing through a wide range of eminently possible outcomes. Ideally, these should often build up over seconds and minutes or even over hours. The tension has to obvious among participants and spectators, and the most successful players should be the ones able to navigate the emotions involved. There cannot be long periods lacking such drama. It helps to be a partisan to be able to capture the tension. Baseball and cricket share slow build ups of tension before explosions of drama, but these periods can seem deadly dull to those without an interest in the outcome.

The fourth factor is an element of strategy, where the brain is tested as well as the body. This is much easier to achieve in team sports, where a key element of strategy is to optimise team performance. The best teams should be able to transcend what appears to be attainable by the individuals involved. Team sports should enable specialisation among players, and also open up a variety of different ways to win. Such sports also tend to evolve over time, as new strategies emerge.

The best NFL games combine intensity, athletic beauty, drama, tension and strategy as well as any sport I know. If the teams are well matched, have different strengths, and where I am rooting for one to win the combination is superb, even more so with the added intensity of the playoffs. The beauty of a perfect pass or a diving catch, the strategy behind play calling, the drama of so many close finishes and rules favouring risk taking, and the intensity behind every play – the NFL has every element required for compulsive viewing. It is a shame the game is so complex and takes a while to fully understand, but part of that is necessary for its depth of strategy. A bigger shame is the danger involved for players, including brain damage from concussions. I think a way can be found to radically reduce that without losing any of the magic.

What about other sports? Rugby Union can be fantastic at the highest level. It helps that rule makers started to favour beautiful attacking play – thirty years ago I recall Bill Beaumont uttering the commentary “in international rugby, the purpose should always be to boot the ball off the pitch whenever possible”. Rugby League, Aussie Rules and Hurling all share similar positive elements and can be gripping as well.

What about soccer? It is certainly athletically beautiful. There is often drama and tension, and strategy too. However, too many games lack intensity, either because the teams are ill matched, or because one team is trying to prevent good play rather than create it. Rules could be improved to reduce this aspect.

Cricket and baseball are wonderful games, but without partisanship they really lack drama. Many games also lack intensity, either because of inadequate consequences for players or because they are so long. Long form games have their place for aficionados, but short form games can widen their appeal.

Basketball lacks strategy for me. Ice Hockey has everything, but is flawed because it moves faster than the eye can follow – I need replay for everything.

Then there are the individual sports. Tennis too often either lacks intensity or becomes such a war of attrition that it compromises the other factors. Golf lacks intensity, with the exception of the Ryder Cup. For me, athletics lacks either intensity or strategy depending on the event, and swimming rarely has drama except in relays. Skiing is beautiful but lacks everything else.

Some sports that we see rarely appear to have promise. I enjoy volleyball and badminton, especially the women’s games, which seem to encompass more strategy. There must be other wonderful sports out there if we only got a chance to see them. I guess one reason we don’t is that broadcasters realise that familiarity is important to understand strategy while partisanship helps drama, and both these factors can be lacking from small doses of coverage.

This model certainly helped me reason out why I love some sports more than others. Perhaps something similar could help rule makers improve their sports. It certainly helped me understand why the superbowl last week was almost unmatched as a sporting spectacle in my experience. I could not tear myself away from the beginning to the end. The only thing missing was the right result.