Ball Don’t Lie: Tush Push goes overboard and more of the worst calls from Week 2

We're just two weeks into the NFL season, which means that players and teams are still in the process of knocking the rust off after a long summer. But they're not the only ones who need to get back in the swing of things: It's early for the league's officiating crews as well, and judging by how Sunday went, some refs remain stuck in preseason form.

Some of the weekend's biggest games were swung in whole or in part by ... let's just say "controversial" decisions from the zebras. Which stuck out to us as the very worst calls of Week 2? Let's dive in.

We need to have a conversation about the Tush Push

All offseason, I went to bat for the Philadelphia Eagles in their effort to keep the Tush Push off the chopping block. Sure, I may be a New York Giants fan who wants nothing but bad things to befall my NFC East rival down I-95, but outright banning a play simply because the rest of the league has yet to find a way to stop it struck me as anti-competitive at best. What was the difference between the Tush Push and any other way that teams and coaches have given themselves a schematic advantage over the years?

But outlawing a legal football play is one thing. Allowing one team to repeatedly and openly violate the rules of the sport is another — and after Philly's win over the Kansas City Chiefs on Sunday, it looks like we've officially tipped over into the latter.

Not only do multiple Eagles linemen start moving forward before the snap of the ball, but this particular play is illegal even before it begins: Look how far the center is leaning over the football, a neutral zone infraction that referees simply decline to enforce. If Philly were simply better at this particular thing than anyone else, I would tell the other 29 teams to just suck it up. But if the Tush Push has now become impossible to officiate, I don't see any other solution than to outlaw it entirely.

Controversial leverage call dooms Broncos

It looked like the Denver Broncos were about to move to 2-0 after Indianapolis Colts kicker Spencer Shrader missed a game-winning 60-yard field goal as time expired. But the officiating crew had other ideas: Denver was flagged for "leverage", a 15-yard penalty that gave Shrader another (far more manageable) shot at victory.

Shrader took full advantage of his mulligan, sending Denver back home 1-1 — and leaving Sean Payton and Co. fuming after the game. But just what is leverage, and did the refs get this one right? Here's the relevant portion of the NFL rulebook:

”Placing a hand or hands on a teammate or opponent to gain additional height to: (1) block or attempt to block an opponent’s kick or apparent kick, or (2) attempt to jump through a gap to block an opponent’s kick or apparent kick."

Did the Broncos line technically put their hands on an opponent in order to gain addition height? Sure, yes. But was it egregious enough to warrant a flag that literally swung the outcome of a game? I'm skeptical. If anything, this feels like the sort of contact that occurs on just about every field-goal attempt in the league, a penalty that you could call several times a week if you were to enforce things this strictly. There's a good reason why refs typically don't do that, and it's curious that this crew decided to at the most critical possible moment.

Travis Hunter flagged for playing what sure seems like great defense

The Jaguars let a golden opportunity to move to 2-0 slip through their fingers on Sunday afternoon, falling to a Bengals team that lost Joe Burrow midway through the second quarter due to a toe injury. But Cincinnati also got some considerable help on their game-winning touchdown drive, in the form of a ... highly questionable pass interference call on star rookie Travis Hunter.

There's some contact there, and Hunter doesn't get his head around to look at the ball until the very last moment. But this still strikes me as an awfully unforgiving call: Hunter has one hand on Andrei Iosivas, but that hand doesn't seem to impede him in any meaningful way, and face-guarding is not in itself pass interference. Iosivas wasn't trying to come back to the ball only for Hunter to get in his way; the only thing that prevetned him from making the catch was Hunter sticking his hand in and knocking the ball away, which is how playing cornerback is supposed to work.

George Pickens falls victim to the softest penalty of the year

Maybe the officiating crew in Sunday's wild Giants-Cowboys shootout were just trying to give one of these defenses half a chance at getting a stop. I can't come up with any other reason why Pickens was called for offensive pass interference here, when he just seems to be disengaging with Paulson Adebo in the way that receivers do countless times every weekend.

The Cowboys eventually prevailed in overtime, a true Ball Don't Lie moment if ever there were one. But this wasn't a full push-off, and Pickens' arms weren't fully extended. If receivers can't be allowed to make any sort of contact, how are they supposed to deal with physical coverage?

What is roughing the passer anyway?

I understand the league's investment in protecting its quarterbacks. Heck, I don't even begrudge it: It's the most important position on the field, and they are genuinely vulnerable while trying to keep their eyes downfield as several of the biggest, strongest athletes on planet Earth come flying at them with bad intent.

At this point, though, I'm not sure what defenders are supposed to do to avoid getting flagged. Sure, it makes sense that you're not allowed to go out of your way drive a quarterback into the ground with the full force of your body, but how is Josh Sweat supposed to avoid landing on Bryce Young here?

Roy Robertson-Harris contorted his body to land on the side of Dak Prescott and still got burned.

Football is a violent game, and quarterbacks are going to get hit sometimes; as Don Draper once said, that's what the money is for. I'm all for efforts to curtail the more egregious hits they face, but defenders deserve a level playing field. If they're doing everything they can to minimize the impact of a hit amid a fast and brutal sport, what are we penalizing?