Can You Pass the Football More Than Once? The Rules and Strategies Explained

Having spent years both on the sidelines as a coach and deep in the rulebooks as a sports analyst, I’ve found that some of the most intriguing questions in sports aren’t about the spectacular plays, but the seemingly simple ones. Take this one, which a young player asked me just last week: “Can you pass the football more than once?” It sounds straightforward, right? But the answer opens up a fascinating discussion about the very fabric of American football strategy, the limits of creativity, and how rules shape the game we love. It’s a question of constraints and possibilities, much like the narrative unfolding in Philippine collegiate sports, where after a decade and a half, University of Santo Tomas is back in the UAAP juniors basketball finals. That fifteen-year journey back to relevance isn’t just about talent; it’s about understanding and mastering a complex set of rules and strategic systems to create winning opportunities. Football operates on a similar principle.

So, let’s tackle the core question head-on. The short, definitive answer is yes, you absolutely can pass the football more than once during a single play from scrimmage, but with one monumental, game-defining caveat: only one forward pass is allowed per down, and it must be thrown from behind the line of scrimmage. This rule is the bedrock of offensive structure. Once that ball has crossed the line of scrimmage in the air going forward, the play’s forward passing phase is irrevocably over. However, and this is where it gets beautifully chaotic, you can throw as many backward passes, or laterals, as you want. There is no limit. You can lateral the ball behind you, sideways, or even after catching a forward pass, as long as the ball does not travel forward relative to the point of release. This creates those rare, heart-stopping moments of playground-style football we occasionally see on kick returns or the final desperate seconds of a half.

Now, from a strategic standpoint, why isn’t this multi-pass offense the standard? Why don’t we see coaches scripting elaborate series of laterals like a rugby team? The reason is risk. A lateral that hits the ground is a live ball, a fumble, free for anyone to recover. In a sport where possession is paramount, the risk of a turnover on a botched lateral far outweighs the potential reward in most conventional situations. I’ve always been a conservative play-caller at heart; losing the ball on a gimmick play is a surefire way to lose a game and the trust of your team. The data, albeit from my own review of several seasons, is stark: the success rate for designed multi-lateral plays outside of special teams is probably less than 5%. The failure rate, and the resulting turnovers, is catastrophically high. So, while the rulebook allows for this creativity, the practical, win-probability calculus of the game severely discourages it outside of utterly desperate, last-ditch scenarios.

This brings me back to that UAAP juniors finals story. UST’s return after fifteen years isn’t about them suddenly discovering a magical, rule-bending play. It’s about mastering the fundamental system—the equivalent of mastering the standard forward pass and run game in football. They built a program that reliably executes within the established framework. The “multiple pass” concept in football is like a trick play in basketball: a surprise element you might keep in your back pocket, but you cannot build a lasting dynasty on it. Sustainable success comes from depth, discipline, and executing the core strategies at a higher level than your opponent. The rule that limits forward passes but allows infinite laterals is a perfect metaphor for this. It provides a stable structure (one forward pass) that enables sophisticated planning, while allowing a tiny window for improvisational genius (laterals) when the structure breaks down or when the clock demands a miracle.

In my view, this rule is one of the sport’s elegant masterstrokes. It perfectly balances order and anarchy. It prevents the game from devolving into a chaotic, volleyball-like aerial show, preserving the essential physical battles at the line of scrimmage and the strategic value of the running game. Yet, it legally permits those once-in-a-season moments of pure, unscripted excitement that become instant legend. Think of the “Music City Miracle” or the laterals on the final play of the 1982 Stanford-Cal game. Those plays are unforgettable precisely because they are exceptions that prove the rule. They are the basketball equivalent of a half-court buzzer-beater to win a championship after a fifteen-year drought—a stunning departure from the norm that only matters because of the rigorous normality that preceded it.

So, the next time you see a quarterback drop back, remember the hidden architecture of that play. He has one precious forward pass to use, a bullet in the chamber. Everything else must move sideways or backward, a dance with risk most teams wisely avoid. It’s a system that rewards both meticulous planning and, in its rarest moments, sheer audacious creativity. Just as the University of Santo Tomas’s return to the finals was built on years of foundational work, a great football team is built on mastering the first forward pass, not dreaming of the second or third lateral. The possibility is always there, ticking in the background, a reminder that within the strictest rules, there’s always room for a little madness. And isn’t that why we watch?