Best examples of Rules Lawyering?

Upon Sam Pollock’s death last August, this story which is part of Canadian hockey’s lore was recalled numerous times.

After the 1969-70 NHL season, Pollock, who was at the time GM of the mighty Montreal Canadiens, had traded to obtain the 1971 first-round entry draft pick of the Oakland Seals, which he felt would finish last in the standings the following season, thus earning the Habs the first pick overall.

A few weeks before the end of the 1970-71 season, though, the renamed California Golden Seals were neck and neck with the Los Angeles Kings at the bottom of the NHL. So what did Pollock do? He slightly weakened his own team and greatly strenghtened the Kings by sending them skilled veteran Ralph Backstrom for practically nothing. Result: the Kings finished above California, and the Canadiens had the first pick.

Who was some frail kid by the name of Guy Lafleur.

In the same vein, a couple of years ago, Lou Angotti, who was coach of the Pittsburgh Penguins in 1983-84, kind of admitted that his team did all it could to finish last that year and grab Mario Lemieux in the process.

Of course, most professional sports leagues now have draft lotteries to prevent that kind of stuff.

I did. The theory there is, I believe, that the only way you’re going to get a double play on a dropped pop-up with only a force at second is if the batter doesn’t run, or dogs it down the line, in which case he deserves to be out. In other words, the time for pop-up to go up in the air, come down, be dropped, picked up, thrown to second, and relayed to first should be more than enough for a runner to make it to first with normal effort.

The rule book doesn’t say anything about not throwing a potato in a game!

Middle school. My brother, my best friend, and I all playing Monopoly. Strictly by the rules. My brother and my friend have succumbed to my edge in property and are slowly bleeding out. Then my brother, with properties already mortgaged to the hilt, hits my Pennsylvania Ave with Hotel. It’s clearly over. I point out that he’s in bankruptcy, and must turn over all his assets and property to me. He refuses.

“Hey, Chris,” he says to my friend. “I’ll sell you all my property and money for a dollar.”

I object, pointing out that the rules forbid one player giving money to another, and you can’t “sell” a $50 bill to someone for a dollar, since that’s effectively giving money.

“Ok,” he says. “Chris, I’ll sell you all my property for a dollar.” I object again, but he says, correctly, that clearly the rules permit someone facing a huge rental payment to sell property, even at a loss, to get cash – and clearly they don’t say anything about how much the player can ask.

At least I’ll get his cash, I think, paltry though it is. Nope. “Chris,” he says a moment later, “I made a mistake. I’d like to buy back the Water Works, there, for all my money.”

Done. Then: “Chris, how would like to buy Water Work sfor $1?”

Done.

Then he handed me a dollar and said, “Yup, I’m bankrupt. Here.”

So, Bricker, who won?

In high school or college football, interfering with the receiver will cost you a 15-yard-penalty. So, if you’re getting burned and it may result in a TD, it’s better to interfere. 15 yards is better than 6 points.

As a DB, it saved my bacon more times than I’d like to admit.

In the NFL, the penalty is assessed at the point of the interference.

I lost; Chris won.

I ended up writing to Parker Brothers, and they made a ruling that forbid a player facing backruptcy from selling property for less than face value. They pointed out that he still could have sold all his property, but at least I would have collected the cash.

I laminated the letter and stuck it in our Monopoly game box, where it lasted at least 20 years!

The reverse pitch video was removed. Could someone describe it? I couldn’t find anything with Google.

In golf, however, you can use a penalty shot to your own advantage. Let’s say you have a short putt, but you momentarily freak out and your putt goes racing by the hole, off the green, and into the rough, from which it’d be a miracle to get up and down in two shots – or it’s so far away you just don’t want to walk that far. You can declare your ball unplayable, take a one shot penalty, and place the ball where you originally played it – that is, near the hole – and try your putt again and not have to worry about getting up and down. (I saw that one on NBC’s coverage of the PGA Championship this year, if memory serves.)

When I was a kid I read a story about a baseball player-manager who would find loopholes in rules. At the time, to make a substitution, the manager had to clearly announce the change to the umpire. A time came when an opponent popped up a ball near the player-manager’s dugout: the manager ran out from the dugout, yelled “Walter Smith now catching for the Beltsville Sluggers!” and caught the ball for an out. The rule was later changed to make clear that the announcement had to come while the ball was not in play. (Unfortunately, I can never remember the manager’s name.)

The usual hero of that story is Michael J. “King” Kelly, a colorful catcher and manager from the Nineteenth Century. I’m very skeptical that the story is true. I’ve never seen a date or a contemporary source for his alleged feat.

That’s correct. The infield fly rule is designed to prevent double force-outs on the basis. When there is a fast runner on first base, no runner on second, fewer than two outs, and a slow batter at the plate, allowing a pop fly to drop would be very legal and very smart. (Not to get a double play, of course, but to force the slow batter to replace the fast runner at first base.) One wonders why it isn’t done more often. I’ve seen it done, but only rarely and never recently.

Crikey, who can forget Smokey Yunick? I never realized that the wheel well story was about qualifying vs. racing. I just thought that he was messing with the other guys’ heads.

Don’t forget the thin Pyrex windshields, acid-dipped bodies and shaved drip rails, running an alternator off a fan to avoid belt drag, holes in the headers to make a primitive air injection, running the engine backwards to improve traction coming down onto the straight… I think he was busted for every one of these though none of them were in the rulebook.

Errors are probably the worst thing that can happen to an infielder’s career. I’m not surprised that they just catch the ball instead of sacrificing their personal stats for the sake of the team.

An excellent example of “legal but frowned on” comes from a 1981 one-day cricket match between Australia and New Zealand. Australia’s bowler was set to deliver the final ball of the match, from which New Zealand needed 6 runs to tie the score (IOW, the NZ batsman had to try to hit the ball past the boundary on the fly).

To prevent this, the Australian captain ordered his bowler to roll the ball - an unheard-of measure that effectively made the six impossible. It was entirely legal (at that time) but caused a huge outcry.

Kiwi fans saw it as an epitome of the perfidy to be expected from the win-at-all-cost mindset of the depraved residents of the West Island. The Prime Ministers of both countries weighed in on the matter. It will not soon be forgotten in NZ. One consequence is that underhanded bowling is now illegal in cricket.

In hockey, there is the concept of a “good penalty”, in which a quality scoring opportunity is stopped by a hook or trip (a 2 minute minor), hopefully in a way that doesn’t lead to a penalty shot.

The idea is that a breakaway like that becomes a coin flip between the goalie and skater (or if there’s even more men rushing, well beyond 50%), but a team can kill a penalty 80 - 85% of the time.

In Rugby (both codes) they have the “penalty try” to offset this tactic - if an offence by the defending side prevents a probable try, the referee can award one anyway. The general principle is that if you deliberately commit an offence with the intent of standing the resulting penalty rather than the consequences of playing fair, you get hit with the next severer punishment.

One of my favorite plays in college football is a (sort of) failed attempt at this. I don’t remember the exact teams involved, but I think at least one of them was in Texas. Anyways, a running back had been running all over the other team. He looked like he was breaking another big run down the side line, when out of nowhere someone tackled him. Turns out that “out of nowhere” was from the side lines. One of the guys on the side line for the defending team just tackled the running back as he went by. The referees ended up deciding that the running back would have scored without the interference and awarded a touch down.

No error is charged when you get a force-out at second base.

Dick Moegle of Rice, tackled by Tommy Lewis of Alabama in the 1954 Cotton Bowl.

That wasn’t rules lawyering, that was flat-out illegal.

Can you elaborate on those two a little bit?

That’s the point: It was an attempt to receive some kind of penalty (whatever the penalty is for a player not on the field interfering with play) that would be less bad than the score. If the rules had been worded slightly differently, it might have succeeded.

ETA: Ok, from the article, it appears it was explained as just a player’s emotions getting the better of him. But such a thing could have been attempted.