A quick glance at the top of the NFL standings reveals something unsettling. St. Louis, Detroit, the New York Giants, Seattle; the list goes on. There is more turnover at the top of the NFL than in a bakery.
The NFL's current parity has been building since the early '90's, when the league became the first of the four major American sports to institute a hard salary cap that truly limited how much teams could spend. A league laden with dynasties during the first 25 years after it merged with the AFL has suddenly become as wide open as Charles Barkley's mouth. But is this a good thing?
In many respects, it is. With the salary cap limiting teams' abilities to stock up on all-pros, large and small markets are able to compete on a somewhat level playing field. In addition, it is hard to maintain dominance for an extended period of time, a fact that the 49ers, Cowboys, Broncos, and Packers are now facing. Franchises can no longer afford to add high-priced young talent when they are already paying their veteran stars.
These financial realities have led to a current situation in which parity reigns supreme, and each week is stranger than the next. Green Bay loses once in 34 home games and then goes down at Lambeau Field on consecutive weeks. The Lions lose Barry Sanders and go 6-2; the Jets lose Vinny Testaverde and go 2-6. The NFL is as unpredictable as Florida's weather, which leads to more competitive football during the regular season and a reason for fans of most teams to remain interested well into the season's second half.
However, despite the great benefits of competitive balance and close playoff races, much is lost due to the new system. Most glaringly, the NFL is now without a dominant team. The sport is largely characterized by the legendary squads that have graced its fields in years past; dynasties along the lines of the Packers of the '60s, the Steelers and Cowboys of the '70s, the Niners of the '80s, and the Cowboys of the '90s. Interspersed between these dynasties were single seasons of unparalleled dominance, such as those of the '72 Dolphins, the '85 Bears, and the '86 Giants.
All of these dominant teams elevated football to a higher level, to the point where a victory over one of them could make another team's season. They were talented for sure, but they all developed their own identities, be it the toughness of the Steelers or the brashness of the Cowboys. Americans could grow to love or hate these dominant forces - a fan could have as much fun rooting against them as for his own team.
Now, though, the NFL has nothing close to a dominant team. Jacksonville? Miami? St. Louis? None of these teams inspire any real fear and any team in the league can take the field feeling like it has a chance to beat them. Among the many reasons for this lack of supremacy is the absence of depth from even the best teams.
One of the things that made the Cowboys of the early '90s so good was their ability to make situational substitutions. They were deep and talented at every position, particularly defensively, which allowed Jimmy Johnson to utilize rested athletes whenever he wanted. In addition to being better than other teams, they were deeper, and they simply wore down many an opponent over the course of a game.
The cap killed that strategy, though. As soon as the young Cowboys who had been sharing playing time became eligible for free agency, they bolted for more money and larger roles. Key starting defensive players like Russell Maryland, Robert Jones, and Darrin Smith all took off for more money. Career backups like offensive lineman Ron Stone left for big bucks and a starting job. Dallas' youth and depth quickly disintegrated, and its stars - Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin - got old. Now, Dallas is a shadow of its former self.
What happened to the Cowboys now characterizes the majority of the NFL's top teams. No one has the across-the-board depth that the old Steelers possessed. The salary cap makes it impossible to afford top-flight backups. The 49ers could afford to pay both Joe Montana and Steve Young, so that an injury to either one would not cripple its chances to the Super Bowl. Now, the Jets lose Vinny Testaverde in Week One and are forced to spend the rest of the season in the basement of the AFC East while Rick Mirer attempts to throw the ball farther than 20 yards. Teams have no safety valve to protect them from the threat of injury, and Super Bowl dreams can be crushed with one misstep on artificial turf.
So, while the NFL's situation is clearly better than the absolute lack of parity in Major League Baseball, where only a handful of teams can compete each year, it is far from perfect. Fans are denied the beauty of watching a team that takes football to another level, as well as the excitement of rooting against such a powerhouse.
Moreover, teams that appear "ready to win" cannot afford an insurance policy in the form of quality backups. Perhaps the NFL should look into the idea of raising the salary cap a bit, so teams that have peaked can take the necessary final steps to procure a championship, while those that wish to rebuild can quietly stock up on youth without the pressure of attempting to win right away in a watered-down league.
After all, with the way things are going this year, can we even rule the Browns out of contention yet?
