The prevent defense. It’s something that I’m sure many of you have seen throughout your gaming ventures in the “Madden,” “Tecmo Super Bowl” or “NFL Blitz” series. This passive defense, which coaches often employ as a means of securing a game in the final moments against a desperate offense, in a word, sucks. It stands for the strategy of passivity in football, the counterintuitive notion of playing not to lose instead of playing to win.

This meekness reared its ugly head in a notable match-up between UCLA and Notre Dame this past Saturday.

In front of a pro-Irish crowd in South Bend, Ind., the Bruins had Notre Dame on the ropes for most of the game. UCLA had led for the entire second half and their defense was effective in stifling Notre Dame’s superstar trio of running back Darius Walker, wide receiver Jeff Samardzija and Heisman candidate/pretty-boy quarterback Brady Quinn. UCLA coach Karl Dorrell was on the verge of a momentous victory for his program.

With a little over two minutes remaining in the game, the Bruins, nursing a 17-13 lead, had the ball at their own 35-yard line on first down. Ten yards for UCLA would seal the game. Dorrell was going to finally establish himself and vanquish all the doubts that had loomed over his program since his first season in 2004. Ten yards. That’s all he needed.

So, what did Dorrell do? He called three unimaginative run plays up the middle, and UCLA subsequently punted the ball back to the Irish. Quinn rallied his Irish from their own 20-yard line for an 80-yard touchdown drive in less than a minute. 20-17 Notre Dame — game over.

What was Dorrell thinking? Well, he was playing not to lose. He decided to take the careful route, running three plays up the middle to unequivocally prevent the possibility of a turnover, forgetting that sophomore quarterback Patrick Cowan had already shown impressive poise and composure in front of the hostile Irish crowd. Dorrell just couldn’t bring himself to take the risk of throwing the football.

On the other side of the ball, the Bruins reverted to the prevent defense. They dropped everyone back, leaving only three linemen to rush Quinn. The Irish quarterback had an eternity in the pocket on his game-winning pass to Samardzija in what turned out to be a busted play. UCLA had all the receivers covered, but because Quinn had enough time to heat himself up a TV dinner while he stood in the pocket searching for a receiver, Samardzija broke free and ultimately dashed 45 yards for the victory.

It’s pretty clear what happened. As a coach, Dorrell took the easy way out. He decided to play it safe. He ran the ball, instead of throwing, and employed the prevent defense, which ironically prevented his team from winning.

Football is a sport that takes guts — a coach has to have the kind of attitude that winning is much more important than not losing. That’s how I learned that Cal coach Jeff Tedford (ugh) was for real. I recall watching one of the Golden Bears’ games a few years back when Cal had the ball in a similar situation. Everyone in the stands was expecting Tedford to call running back Marshawn Lynch’s number. It only made sense. But instead, he sent quarterback Aaron Rodgers on a bootleg, who threw to his wide open tight end, and the Bears clinched the game.

It’s that kind of fortitude that wins ballgames. Sure, the play could have failed, and the media would have gone after Tedford in the ensuing press conference. But that never entered his mind when he made the play call. He took a calculated risk. He was thinking about winning.

Say what you want about Tedford (he does coach at Cal, after all), but the man knows his football, and he knows how to win. A huge part of knowing how to win is being able to go for the jugular. Unfortunately, when you take a look around the country (ahem — Karl Dorrell and Mike Shula), many coaches don’t possess this trait.

Which brings me back to my point. Football, and sports in general, cannot be played counterintuitively. You can’t play not to lose — otherwise, you’ll never win.

I guess that a broader, universal imperative can be drawn from this. In life, the Jeff Tedfords will beat the Karl Dorrells every day of the week and twice on Saturdays. And as for the Walt Harrises of the world...

Let’s not go there.

Jack Salisbury is a freshman who believes in playing to win. Email him at jack24@stanford.edu.