The Do’s and Don’ts of Rushing the Field

A funny thing happened at the Georgia/Colorado game Saturday.

Late in the game, Colorado was clinging to a 29-27 lead, but Georgia drove deep in Colorado territory and appeared poised to at least attempt a game-winning field goal.

But Georgia's Caleb King fumbled, Colorado recovered, and then were able to run out the clock. Game over.

And then ... Colorado students charged the field in a frenzy.

Oy vey. Clearly, some quality control is needed in the art of charging the field, of rushing the court. Some rules need to be laid down. Grab a seat, Colorado students and readers at home. Take notes, because you're doing it wrong.

Okay, kids. I know charging the field is fun, and that's the main reason you do it. But discipline and good judgment are lamentably necessary here!

What does it mean when you charge the field? At its most basic, molecular level, it means, "Oh my! This victory is so important and/or unexpected that I cannot contain my joy in having achieved it!! I must frolic in the magnitude of such a victory!"

Colorado fans, this isn't even a conference game, let alone the Big 12 championship, so this does not qualify as a field-charging, important victory.

So was it an unlikely victory? Well, Colorado students, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I know Georgia has a lot of rich history and name recognition. But they kind of suck now. Did you know that they were only 1-3 coming into this game? Did you know they were mere 4.5-point favorites for this game? Question in the back row ... yes, I know that you can't score half points in football. See me after class, I'll explain.

So when you frolic in the magnitude, you're actually paying a fantastic compliment to that opponent. You're saying, "You're such a tremendous adversary that defeating you is just cause to rape, plunder, pillage, and burn our own couches. Huzzah!" If only most of us could experience such a comforting consolation to defeat — that the victors consider vanquishing us a crowning experience of their lives.

But Colorado fans, I beseech you to sets your sights higher! I know the last few years have been rough, but you were division champs just five years ago! Conference champs just nine years ago! National champions 20 years ago! This victory is, simply put, not up to field-storming snuff.

But maybe it's not your fault. If no one ever taught you when to rush the field, how can you be expected to know better? Allow me to lay down some ground rules:

1. You may charge the field or rush the court if you have won a conference or national championship. No division championships, no four-team early-season tournament championships in basketball. The only thing that counts is winning your conference or winning it all.

2. You may charge the field or rush the court if you were underdogs by 30 or more. Thankfully, the demarcation line is the same in football and basketball.

3. You may charge the field or rush the court if you beat your biggest (and only your biggest) rival and were underdogs by 15 or more. Beating your rival is big, so the requirements for charging the field/storming the floor are halved.

4. If you won the game in unlikely or spectacular fashion, you may not charge the field or rush the court if none of the three conditions above are satisfied.. I know this one is controversial. But I think back to a game I saw as a kid: North Carolina vs. Iona in basketball. Iona was tough and UNC only won by hitting a buzzer-beater. The students didn't rush the floor, but the UNC players started jumping up and down and celebrating like mad. And I thought, "Well, if you're Iona, you can take solace in the fact that UNC is going nuts because they beat you."

The same principle applies to this rule. UNC's reactions should have been embarrassed relief, not jubilation. At the end of the day, you want to look like you at least suspected you were going to win all long.

5. (Special to administrators — football only): If one of the first three conditions are met, let your students tear out the goalposts and carry them out of the stadium. None of those awful automatically lowering-goal posts. No greasing the uprights so students can't get a grip. This is tradition here. Factor the destruction of one or two sets of goal posts into the annual athletic budget.

Any more questions? You, in the back. I told you I would explain that after class. Fine. The rest of you, I will see you again when you are 30-point underdogs.