Is the NFL Rigged? Why Football Sometimes Feels Like WWE

The referee—apparently the dumbest human being alive—would turn his back on the two enormous men whose behavior he had been specifically hired to monitor.

Then someone would grab a steel chair.

WHAM.

Chair over the head.

One guy was unconscious. There was a folding chair lying in the middle of the ring. Twenty thousand people had just watched the crime take place.

The referee would turn around.

Huh.

Wonder what happened here.

One.

Two.

Three.

Match over.

I sometimes feel this way watching the NFL.

The Josh Allen Fourth-Down Call I Still Can't Get Over

I'm a Buffalo Bills fan, which means I have voluntarily chosen a fairly ridiculous way to spend portions of my life.

During the AFC Championship Game against Kansas City in January 2025, Buffalo was leading 22–21 in the fourth quarter.

Fourth-and-1.

Josh Allen took the snap and drove into the pile.

Watching it live, I thought he made it.

Then came the replay.

I still thought he made it.

Actually, after watching the replay, I thought it was even clearer.

No first down.

Okay. Fine. That's why we have replay.

They reviewed it.

Still no first down.

And I remember thinking:

What the fuck are we doing?

We were watching the same replay over and over.

Even CBS rules analyst and former NFL referee Gene Steratore thought Allen had reached the line to gain.

Didn't matter.

Kansas City got the ball, scored a touchdown and two-point conversion, and eventually won 32–29.

Once again, the Chiefs went to the Super Bowl.

Once again, Buffalo went home.

And somewhere in my childhood memory, a wrestling referee was turning around just in time to discover a mysteriously unconscious man lying next to a folding chair.

No, I Don't Think the NFL Is WWE

Let me be clear.

I don't have evidence that the NFL is rigged.

I don't think Roger Goodell is sitting in an office writing:

CHIEFS WIN. BILLS LOSE. TAYLOR SWIFT REACTION SHOT. COMMERCIAL.

But sometimes football has a different problem.

It can feel wrong.

The NFL has cameras everywhere. Instant replay. Slow motion. Rules experts. Millions of people watching from every conceivable angle.

And somehow, in the biggest moments of the season, we're still arguing about where a guy holding a football landed.

If the Bills lose because Patrick Mahomes makes an unbelievable play, fine.

I hate it.

But I can live with it.

He beat us.

But when I'm staring at my television thinking, Didn't we all just see the same thing?

That's different.

Maybe I'm Asking the Wrong Question

For years, moments like that made me angry.

Then I started thinking:

Why am I allowing any of this to make me angry?

I am sitting on a couch in Virginia.

Josh Allen does not know me.

Sean McDermott has never called asking for my advice.

No NFL official has ever reconsidered a spot because Lou LaMedica was screaming at his television.

I have exactly zero control over any of it.

And yet sports convince us otherwise.

We say we won.

We say we lost.

We say we need to stop the run.

No.

They need to stop the run.

I need to make sure I don't burn the wings.

Caring Isn't the Same as Control

I don't think the answer is to stop caring.

That would miss the entire point.

I want to watch the Bills with my son. I want to yell when Josh Allen escapes three defenders and somehow turns a broken play into 25 yards. I want the anticipation of a playoff game. I want to believe that maybe—finally—this is the year.

That's the fun.

But I'm much less willing to hand the outcome control over my happiness.

Because that's a terrible trade.

The same thing happens everywhere else.

You can prepare for the interview.

You can't make someone hire you.

You can build the business.

You can't make the customer buy.

You can teach your kid everything you know.

You can't play the game for them.

At some point, your part ends.

That's an important line to recognize.

Enjoy the Game

So I'll keep watching the Bills.

I'll keep rooting for them.

I'll probably keep yelling at the referees, because I'm not a monk.

And if Buffalo ever wins the Super Bowl, I will undoubtedly behave like an idiot.

But I'm trying to remember what actually belongs to me.

The anticipation.

The people I'm watching with.

The food.

The ridiculous plays.

The hope.

The fun.

That's mine.

The final score isn't.

Maybe that's the trick with a lot of things in life.

Care deeply. Do your part. Enjoy the experience.

And when you've reached the point where the outcome belongs to somebody else, let it belong to somebody else.

Even if that somebody is an NFL referee staring directly at a steel chair.

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Lou LaMedica

Is the NFL Rigged? Why Football Sometimes Feels Like WWE