One of the great mysteries of the video game business is the annual sports title. Every year without fail we get updated editions of Madden and NHL and NBA Live. These usually involve minor changes to the look or feel of the previous years' games, or very occasionally a full-scale overhaul of the previous offering. But most years most games are content merely to:

a) slap a new athlete on the cover;
b) update all the team rosters to account for retirements and trades and the draft, and;
c) toss in a couple of retro-funky uniforms for novelty's sake.

It is bizarre, the amount of money game publishers rake in year after year, selling old products in new products' clothing. You would think somebody would get wise and the house of cards would collapse, but no.

So here it is the first day of the new NFL season, and once again we find ourselves fiddling with a fresh crop of NFL games and experiencing vivid flashbacks of last year's crop of NFL games. In NFL Fever 2004, just as we might expect, we find that a bit has changed and much has stayed the same. As your tackles jog up to the line of scrimmage, little bursts of greenish dust rise up from the turf. That didn't happen last year, so presumably some poor animator spent much of the spring building and polishing the puff-puff routine. This is called "adding value," and is the reason your copy of NFL Fever 2003 is now worth $8.95.

That is overstating the case. Sorry. There is a neato network gimmick here called "XSN Sports," in which you and your pals use your computers and the Web to set up tournaments, and then use your Xboxes to play them. It is the sort of thing fantasy-sports geeks will die for.

There is also a new passing system here, and it is really a very impressive twist on the way armchair football is played. "Read and Lead," it is called. It works like this: After the ball is snapped, all your eligible recievers start running according to the play you have just called. Each has a little icon above his head corresponding to one of the buttons on your controller. You tap the button for the one you want to throw to, and then you use the controller's second joystick to move a little target on the field. When it is where you want it, you squeeze the trigger to toss the ball.

The idea is that you must read your receiver's progress and speed, and throw ahead of him ("leading," if you will) to where he will be by the time the ball completes its arc. You want him to be able to catch it without breaking his stride and without slowing his run. This is a miserable nuisance to master, but once you get the hang you will find yourself wondering why nobody thought of it years ago. It is the best pass control system yet to appear on the home gridiron.

In a sleekly polished title like the state-of-the-art Madden or the similarly glossy ESPN NFL Football (formerly known as NFL2K), Read and Lead passing would tip the competitive balance for an entire season (or possibly for two, given the sluggish evolution of the genre). But NFL Fever is not at the same level as either Madden or ESPN. Its animations are bumpier. Its ball seems to hover in the air a little too long, as if it were pumped full of helium. Its punt returners signal a fair catch way too often. The flow of its game overall is choppier and much, much less exciting.

Any given year, you might forgive any of these flaws in isolation. But much of what's wrong this year was also wrong in NFL Fever 2003, and even in 2002. Would taking a year off to get it right really hurt so much? No it would not. It might even mean the correct number on the cover for a change.