Overtime in Kentucky's 36-30 loss to Florida on Saturday night was thrilling and controversial, exhilarating and heartbreaking.
It just wasn't football.
You know, football, the game in which there are kickoffs and punts and kick coverage and field position and a chance for the defense to actually do something that would decide the outcome.
You know, the game of football that is played on a 100-yard field and is timed.
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College football's overtime is a truncated version of the actual sport, one that is more gimmick than game.
Example: the confusion in some corners Saturday night with regard to the officials' controversial no-call in the first overtime when the play clock appeared to run out before Florida snapped the ball on a fourth-and-7 from the UK 9-yard line.
Because SEC Network replays showed the game clock at 0:00 and the play clock at 0, those not steeped in the complex overtime rules thought Jeff Driskel's touchdown pass to Demarcus Robinson should have been disallowed and Kentucky declared the 27-20 winner.
In fact, there is no game clock in overtime. It remains at 0:00. The play clock is still used, allowing an offense 25 or 40 seconds to snap the ball, depending on the circumstance.
So if delay of game had been (correctly) called, Florida would have been backed up 5 yards and faced a fourth-and-12 from the 14-yard line.
The confusion can be excused, however, considering college overtime is a conglomeration of made-up rules.
Are teams forced to go for two-point conversions after three or four overtimes? (It's three.) Do they play on the same end of the field or alternate? (It's a team's preference.) Can the defense return a fumble or an interception for a score? (No.) Do overtime stats count? (Yes.)
At least in soccer's World Cup, they play 30 minutes of extra time before resorting to the gimmick of penalty kicks to decide the winner.
Give me the supposedly "boring" NFL version, where football is played as football, starting with an actual kickoff.
I even prefer the NFL's old "sudden death" overtime rule in which the first team that scores wins. None of this politically correct stuff in which both teams get a chance to score. That may not be fair, but who says football is supposed to be fair?
What's fair about a college football overtime system that favors one side of the football? The offense starts each possession at the opponent's 25-yard line. Even if it doesn't gain a yard, the offense can always kick a manageable 42-yard field goal.
Other than forcing a turnover, the defense really doesn't have much of a say in the matter.
If college football ruled baseball, extra innings would start with the team at the plate having runners on second and third with no one out. Good luck, defense.
College football's overtime also shows little regard for player safety. At least the NFL regular-season overtime system has a definite conclusion. If there's no score after 15 minutes the game ends in a tie. Move on to next week. The college football overtime can keep going and going and going.
We saw that back in 2003 when Arkansas beat Kentucky 71-63 in seven overtimes. Kentucky ran 103 offensive plays. Arkansas ran 96. People claim that four-hour, 56-minute game was epic. Actually, it was exhausting.
My solution: Just play football.
Kick the ball off and cover the kick. The first team that scores wins. If no one scores after 15 minutes, the game ends in a tie.
There doesn't always have to be a winner or a loser. The rest of life is imperfect that way. Why does football have to be different?
And college football's overtime format is definitely not football.