RUN THE DAMN BALL!

I WILL have some thoughts about the recently-concluded NFL season here (aka The Year The NFL Couldn’t Do Anything Right) in a few days. There has been a abundant amount of naysaying and critique going on about at the way the league conducts its business, pretty much all of it well-deserved, but after all of the chaos and tumult and all of bureaucratic idiocy the NFL has displayed, the best thing possible for the league took place on Sunday night in Phoenix – a great Super Bowl. A legendary Super Bowl. An instant classic. Arguably the best of the 49 Super Bowls ever played, and certainly the one with the most confounding ending. And this game also allows the league brass to wriggle off the hook for at least a little while, in that while most critiques of Goodell & Co. focus upon a negligence in regards to handling CTE and off-field issues, the immediate critique of this game goes instead to pure, old fashioned incompetence on the part of the Seattle Seahawks brass.

In short, RUN THE DAMN BALL!

A Super Bowl eerily similar to this was the infamous ‘Wide Right’ of Super Bowl XXV, when the New York Giants defeated the Buffalo Bills 20:19. In that game, the Giants held the ball for over 40 minutes. The Patriots’ Bill Belichick was the defensive coordinator for the Giants at that time. Now, I happen to think Belichick is the best coach in NFL history, and I’ve never had any animosity whatsoever towards the Patriots, but this suck up to Belichick article on Grantland featured a wondrous case of historical revisionism. That game, 24 years ago, had pretty much nothing to do with the Giants defense and everything to do with an offensive strategy in which the Giants milked every second possible off the clock to keep the Bills record-setting offense off the field. The Bills gained 20 yards a minute when they had the ball. They simply ran out of minutes, and they still could’ve won the game with a last ditch FG.

Fast forward 24 years, and the Patriots’ patient, relentless strategy of ball control through the short passing game was brilliantly conceived and exquisitely executed by Tom Brady – and the Pats needed every second of their more than 33 minutes of possession, as it turned out, because their defense got gashed. The Seahawks averaged 5.6 yards per rush and 11.8 yards per pass. Had the outcome been different, most of the second guessing would’ve been heaped Belichick’s way for his choosing not to use his timeouts in the final minute, thus saving more time for Brady to work after the Seahawks scored. Trusting his defense in that spot – a defense which had absolutely imploded in the 2-minute drill in both halves – was something of a curious move, if not out-and-out foolish.

But Belichick doesn’t have to face up to any scrutiny today, because the Seahawks didn’t RUN THE DAMN BALL. Instead, with :30 to go in the game, on the Pats 1 yard line, with a power-rushing offensive line, with the best RB in football and the best running QB in football in the backfield, the Seahawks inexplicably decided to throw a slant pass to the goal line to Ricardo Lockette, their 4th WR, and Pats backup DB Malcolm Butler jumped the route:

Behold the worst play call in NFL history.

And calling it anything short of that does it a disservice. So much on the line, so many things going for the Seahawks, the Patriots seemingly being complicit by not stopping the clock, and the Seahawks run that play? WHAT? You’re going to run a double stack on the goal line and try to pick Brandon Browner, the most physical CB in the NFL (who promptly blows the play up by standing his ground, giving Butler time and space to jump the route), and throw the ball into the defense to a backup WR? Are you serious? To hell with that. RUN THE DAMN BALL!

And before we go any further here, let me introduce a new feature that I was already planning here at In Play Lose, the Tool of the Week, which this week goes to Seahawks offensive coordinator Darrell Bevell.

Bevell not only called this terrible play, but then threw Lockette under the bus, saying repeatedly to the press that the Seahawks WR “should’ve been stronger to the ball.” Hmm, methinks Bevell should’ve been stronger in his decision making. Bevell obviously has the makings of a college head coach, since he’s already speaking like one. One of the fortes of college coaches is finding ways to blame the players when you fuck up on the sidelines. In college, the coach has total control, of course, and dissent is pretty much nonexistent. That doesn’t work so well in the NFL, however, which is a players game, and the Seahawks players were less than pleased:

“I don’t understand how you don’t give it to the best back in the league on not even the 1-yard line … We were on the half-yard line, and we throw a slant. I don’t know what the offense had going on, what they saw. I just don’t understand.” – LB Bruce Irvin
“Um, yeah. I mean, I really don’t know. I still haven’t figured it out yet.” – WR Doug Baldwin, when asked if he was surprised by the call.

The reporters stationed near the tunnels said many of the Seahawks players were echoing these sentiments when they left the field. The Seahawks true leaders manned up in the aftermath, with Carroll saying the blame was on him, Wilson saying he felt like he lost the game for his team, and Lynch refusing to point fingers by saying “it’s a team game.” Players make mistakes on the field all the time, but they also bust their asses and their bodies trying to make plays. The last thing they need is some smug guy with a headset and a clipboard trying to cover his ass after the fact. That pisses players off.

Damn you Auto Correct!

And they should be pissed off, because this play call was absolutely stupid. Pete Carroll did try to explain the logic that went into this play after the game. And I’m going to give him some leeway here, since this was right after what was, without question, the most soul-killing defeat anyone involved had ever experienced. Trying to come up with sound explanations in the aftermath of defeat can be difficult, especially when you know that you just blew it. Logic doesn’t always work so well in that instance. (The bizarre comment by Mike McCarthy about 20 second-half rushing attempts in the aftermath of this disaster falls in that category.) But here is the logic Carroll put forth:

The Seahawks wanted to try and kill out the clock completely, give Brady as little time as possible after they score. (To be honest, I think they were surprised Belichick didn’t call a timeout, since there was all sorts of uncertainty as they lined up on 2nd down.) They have one timeout left. If they throw a pass on 2nd down and it falls incomplete, the clock stops. If they run, and they don’t get it, they have to burn the timeout, which cuts down the options for what to do on the next play. The Seahawks plan was to throw a pass on 2nd down, run on 3rd, call a timeout if they don’t make it, and run on 4th. Furthermore, Carroll said the New England went ‘heavy’ with a goal line defense, which made running the ball more of a challenge, and the Seahawks felt they had a bad matchup with the Patriots defense, which is why they switched it up.

OK, there’s the logic. And my answer to that is RUN THE DAMN BALL.

And full marks to Butler, the Pats DB on the play, for sniffing it out. It was pointed out in a fave Seattle media outlet of mine that Butler got torched by the Patriots scout team on that exact play, and got lit up by Belichick for doing so, so when he saw the formation, he was looking for the play which the Seahawks ran. This speaks to excellent preparation on the Pats part, of course. While it’s a stretch, in my opinion, to say the Pats ‘knew’ the play was coming, film study and preparation suggested to the Patriots that this play might happen.

Which just makes the play call even worse. Not only were the Seahawks stupid, but it turns out they were also somewhat predictable.

But let’s go back to that logic Carroll was using for a moment. First of all, running the ball on 2nd down and not getting a TD and being forced to use a timeout isn’t that big of a deal. You’re still a yard from the end zone. You have the most mobile, agile QB in football, one who is very likely to score himself if you spread the field on 3rd down and give him a host of run/pass options. 3rd and 1 takes away the Lynch power run, but there are, in fact, even more options available and the Patriots have to account for even more possibilities. Wilson can roll out, can run a QB draw, all of that sort of stuff. The Patriots have spent the entire game trying to minimize Wilson’s edge game for a reason: Russell Wilson, on the move, in open space, is a mismatch for every single member of the Patriots defense. Instead, the Seahawks essentially made it easy for the Pats to defend Wilson by giving him a play call, on 2nd down, where there is ONLY ONE OPTION, which is to throw the slant. There is no Plan B there. There is no check down.

And as for the defensive alignment, well, the Seahawks kind of got it wrong. Sure, there are eight in the box playing the run, but the Pats also have 3 CBs in the game. There is no reason to have three corners in the game if you think you’re getting nothing but power run. That defensive alignment suggests the Patriots are, in fact, hedging their bets – if not out-and-out selling out – by looking for a pass play. So, whatever logic being used based by the Seahawks, based upon was the Pats defense was doing, was faulty from the get-go.

Science, bitches! Now run the damn ball!

And this is where some nifty Game Theory comes into play, which gets complicated by the clock. If the Pats use 3 corners on 2nd-and-goal, and the Seahawks go with a power run formation, New England probably has to take a timeout, because they’re outmatched. This is good for the Seahawks, who are dealing with under a minute of game time. Any clock stoppage while they have the ball is good for them. The clock is the Pats’ ally, but only until Seattle scores, when it becomes an enemy. As it stands, the Pats’ 3 CB look is the right defense on the field for what they think Seattle is going to do (which the Seahawks then did). Now, probably the right move here for Seattle is for Wilson to audible out of the play call, but doing so takes time off the clock Seattle cannot afford to waste.

It’s triumphing in situations like this which makes Belichick the best coach in NFL history. Pete Carroll is a terrific football coach, but he got beat by the best. I’m reminded of a conversation I had several years ago after the Louisville-Michigan NCAA basketball championship final, a game which turned when Louisville put their best player, Russ Smith, 30 feet from the basket in the second half, which took him out of the game but also created good 1-on-1 matchups and opened up the Michigan defense, who had to have a guy chase Russ Smith around as he acted as a decoy, stand 30 feet away and take themselves out of the play as a consequence. The person I was explaining this to then said, “so Michigan got outcoached,” and I said, “well, Rick Pitino’s in the Hall of Fame for a reason.”

But to hell with all of that game theory stuff. RUN THE DAMN BALL! The Seahawks rushed for more yards this season than had been seen in the NFL since 2006. Marshawn Lynch is arguably the best all-purpose back in the sport, and the team is based upon a power run game, which keys Wilson’s fleet feet and sleight of hand in the passing game. Everything the Seahawks do is predicated on the idea that they just line up and flatten you and run over you. So do it, damn it! IT’S WHAT YOU DO BEST! The Pats didn’t stop the run worth a damn the whole game, whereas the Seahawks had been unable to get anyone open in the passing game, which consisted mostly of throwing the ball up for grabs and having it work out from time to time. Where was Chris Matthews all season for the Seahawks? Wow, that kid was terrific. (Conversely, New England DB Kyle Arrington was absolutely horrible on the coverage. He got repeatedly toasted and got promptly benched by Belichick at halftime.) I was somewhat shocked the Seahawks didn’t use Lynch as a receiver more, and they didn’t use the tight end for anything more than being a 6th lineman. The Seahawks gained a helluva lot of yards with a passing game that didn’t really work very well. Given two drives with chances to salt the game away on two separate drives, the Seahawks either missed open receivers or dropped the ball. Hell, the fact that Seattle was at the goal line with a minute to go was miraculous to begin with:

Yes, that actually happened

But how do you not trust your best guys to do what you do best when you’re a yard away from the end zone? What the hell is that? What the hell are you thinking? WHERE IS YOUR BRAIN?

We were having some good-spirited banter at the start of the game, and the Pats fan said “they’re gonna run the ball,” and I said, “Brady’s going to throw the ball 50 times in this game.” You’re playing the best defense in the NFL, and you’re telling me you expect LaGarette Blount to win the game for you? Bullshit. This ain’t the Colts toreador run defense you’re facing. And you have Tom Brady, one of the best QBs in the history of the game. I’m taking my chances with that guy, especially with three DBs for the Seahawks already playing hurt, and two more injuries during the course of the game hindering the Seahawk defense even further. Sure enough, Brady was 37-50 for 328 yards, and Blount was watching the game from the bench. The Pats put the ball in the hands of their best player. The Seahawks, meanwhile, tried to be clever and outsmarted themselves.

RUN THE DAMN BALL! Have Russell Wilson shake hands with Lynch, and then have Lynch shake everyone’s hand after he scores. RUN THE DAMN BALL! It’s really not that complicated, so don’t make it complicated. Hell, if they’ve got three corners, audible out of it, and spread the field. And don’t throw a slant! The Seahawks suck at running the slant. They botched the slant repeatedly against Green Bay, who basically dared them to throw it and caught more of those passes than the Seahawks did. The defense is probably going to guess slant, since you only need a yard, they have no safety help, and they have to pick their poison. For fucksake, don’t give the defense a chance to make a play. Throw the damn thing to the pylon if you have to. Throw it way up high to Matthews or the big tight end. No, forget the pass entirely. RUN THE DAMN BALL!

And what the fuck was this? That Nationwide ad was the worst Super Bowl ad that I ever seen. Who is the nimrod in the Nationwide marketing department said, “Hmm, I don’t know, I think we need more dead kids in this ad, because dead kids are always a wonderful way to sell a product.”

And now I’m completely exasperated, so I’m going to run a gif of a dancing shark while I regain some composure:

The dancing shark who doesn’t know the steps, and who gives no fucks, is my new hero.

And now that I’ve thought about it some more, I think my opinion is RUN THE DAMN BALL!

And this is not to discount the Patriots’ performance in any way. They were terrific. Honestly, the whole game was terrific, featuring an amazing ebb and flow as the Pats held the ball and held the ball and held the ball and then BAM! Seattle would make some big plays. It was an incredible football game to watch. But people who try to minimize the impact of this goal line gaffe by saying that there is a bunch of stuff that goes wrong here and there over the course of the game completely miss the point. In a game that comes down to who has the ball last, you can’t make the last mistake. And for the Seahawks coaching staff to go completely brain dead at the end like this is unconscionable.

And this is a tough one for the Seahawks to overcome, but if there is a team that could do it quickly and reestablish dominance, it is them. They’ve got a loaded team. They’re younger than almost every other team in the NFL. They’ve got a Whiz of a GM, salary cap flexibility, and not a whole lot of contract issues to work out. Indeed, the Vegas oddsmakers already fancy their chances for winning it all a year from now. But jeez, this one is a doozy. Last year’s title cushions the blow somewhat, but for a franchise that’s often seemed star-crossed, this defeat is an extraordinary tough and bitter pill to swallow.

And what a baffling, stunning, remarkable series of playoff games involving the NFC. Every successive game featured an ending more confounding than the previous one. First the Lions, then the Cowboys, and then the Pack, and then this. Wow. Words fail me at this point.

Well, I can think of four more words. RUN THE DAMN BALL!