Painting By the Numbers

“Somebody said that Mark Sanchez is basically JaMarcus Russell." My friend was not pleased with the idea, and a month ago, that would have stuck with me, too. I’d have argued against it, looked at the numbers, probably wrestled with the doubts about this rookie who had been trusted with my team’s future, and settled into a comfortable state of refusal to even consider the possibility for the sake of my sanity. Now, I read the article and smile, because I know, like I know what color the sky will be tomorrow, that the comparison is ridiculous. That’s what happens when you grow with a group of people, and I grew with this Jets team. I watched Shonn Greene become the new “IT” running back, a title that he deserves for his mix of explosive speed and power, making him a battering ram of a human being. I watched Jericho Cotchery go from a reliable safety valve to the best hands in the AFC. I watched Dustin Keller finally get right on the edge of being the next great pass catching tight end (which I look forward to him finally achieving next season). I watched Braylon Edwards…well, not everyone is built for personal or professional growth at the same time.

Spend all season with a team, and you’ll come to appreciate the feel of the organization. Spend all season with a team that forces you to invest some real emotion in them, because you actually believe they could be something special, and you come to appreciate the individuals that make up that organization. It’s something like the difference between how you and a physicist understand gravity. This is true with these Jets for nobody more than Mark Sanchez. Believe me, I was there for the 20 interceptions. I watched them all. But I was also there as he started to make smarter throws. I watched him respond to a media that loves nothing more than shattering the idols it creates (a la the article in question) by smiling, continuing to tweak his throws, and become more comfortable. Then, this past Sunday, I watched him do everything he could to win a game in which his defense was completely shook (not the first time this has happened when he’s played up to his lofty expectations, mind you) and his run game was hobbled (Greene getting hurt had a much bigger impact than anybody seems willing to admit). As with other games (the Dolphin losses stand out), Sanchez’s best wasn’t going to be enough, and yet it felt different. Those losses ended with question marks. This one, coming at the end of the season of doubt and turmoil, left no room for any answers other than the ones given on the field. Mark Sanchez is capable of leading a team. He is able to make use of all of the tools in his arsenal (and could we please acknowledge that this team still, years later, doesn’t have a slot receiver?). In short, he’s come a long way from the rookie who was learning the ropes the same way every quarterback learns the ropes in their first year, and the same confidence that had been a liability is now the thing that will make him deadly as he matures and becomes more comfortable with his receiving options.

Yes, the numbers improved a little, but looking at the numbers and nothing else is for people who could just as easily watch a Madden simulation. Without the feel for what actually happens over the course of a possession, a game, or a season, the numbers signify nothing. What we lose in objectivity as fans, we gain in a more real understanding of how a team finds itself or a player grows into the stats he produces. This doesn’t mean I don’t watch the numbers, or that I don’t think they’re important. Quantitatively, I could easily dispute the Sanchez/Russell comparison, considering that Russell was already in his second year when he started his 15 game season, he had a team full of speedy wideouts (say what you will, but the Jets started the season with David Clowney as their only speed option), and for all the talk of the evenness in interceptions, Sanchez threw 12 over the span of three games (including a 5 pick special) while Russell spread his out over the course of the year. The former indicates a player who has awful single games (which, last I checked, is OK for rookies); the latter indicates a player who fails to progress (which is a much worse sign for rookies). Oh, and did I mention that Sanchez had only two INTs in his last 5 games (including one broken route by the aforementioned Clowney and compared to 4 TDs)? Throw in Brian Schottenheimer’s unwillingness to craft a basic pass attack (outside of play action passes) to balance out the rush game (as opposed to the overly cute trickery that hinders the vertical attack as much as it protects Sanchez), and there are PLENTY of quantitative points to debate here.

And yet all of that isn’t the point. The point is that none of those things are the first things that come to mind when the Russell/Sanchez comparison is made. In fact, Mark Sanchez doesn’t come to mind at all when I read this article. Because for all the panic that the writer attempts to thrust on to his career, and for all the panic that the media has tried to attach to his journey through this season, the fact is that the picture they paint with the numbers doesn’t fit with the reality I saw play itself out, particularly in this last game. And if that doesn’t make sense to you, then maybe you understand how I feel when I look at an article comparing the quarterback I saw progress and grow into my team’s leader to a quarterback I saw regress into the shadows of obsolescence. The quarterback they construct with the numbers they’ve chosen sounds like a shaky, unreliable person; lucky for me, that’s not the Mark Sanchez I know.

2010 AFC Championship Preview

New York Jets at Indianapolis Colts, Sun 3:00 PM


We talked about this earlier, but Peyton Manning is PISSED this season. He’s pissed that he’s consistently put up the greatest statistical performances of an quarterback from any era, yet we still compare him to riff raff like Brett Favre. He’s pissed because he knows, just like everybody else knows, that this team had as good a shot as any at running the table to go 19-0, and instead gave up history for victory. He’s pissed because despite having a team that has never lost with its starters playing, and having beaten more varied opponents in more varied types of games than any other team this season, we all thought the Ravens had a shot last week, and people are talking about a Jets team that’s lucky to even be here as if they were a legitimate challenge and not a cute sideshow. So this Sunday, I expect that the Colts, taking a cue from Manning, along with his capos Freeney, Wayne, and Clark, will show up Sunday with the attitude of a team that has something to prove, regardless of their status as favorites for both this game and the Super Bowl. Truth be told, we haven’t seen this talented a team this angry since the 2007 Pats, and that team wasn’t anywhere near as likable as these Colts. After making short work of the Ravens, another brutal ground game with a focus on defensive football, there’s not a doubt in my mind that the Colts’ mission for this week is to send yet another message to the doubters, taking another dark horse contender and leaving their heads on spears for four quarters.


But believe me when I tell you the following: There isn’t a team in the AFC playoffs that the Colts wanted to see less than the New York Jets. The Bengals were too worn down to compete, the Pats had already lost Welker and were playing too injured to pose a threat, the Ravens don’t have a receiver quick enough to confuse zones, and the Chargers were too baby soft to win a shootout with the single deadliest vertical passer in the league. Any of those guys walk into Indy, we’re seeing strong faces masking shaking knees, and rightfully so, because this Colts team is the horror movie villain that won’t die. The Jets, on the other hand, aren’t just playing with house money; they’re making it rain on the dealers. Consider this: The Jets have executed to perfection for three games in a row now. For all the talk of them being one dimensional, isn’t someone going to have to prove they can stop Thomas Jones and Shonn Greene before we can call that a liability? Meanwhile, two straight quarterbacks have decided that they’re not scared of Darelle Revis, and both have paid dearly for it. The man is making passing offenses work with a hand tied behind their back, and Rex Ryan’s athletic blitz attack has prevented quarterbacks from thinking fast enough to make up for the difference (Bart Scott, in particular, deserves credit for confusing QBs as to whether he'll drop back, which he's athletic enough to do, or attack, which he loves to do). The whole thing has been loud, chaotic, yet surprisingly tight in its execution. Basically, it’s been the best party around for three straight weekends.


Still, it’s hard not to feel like the party might be over. Philip Rivers and Carson Palmer will go down as good quarterbacks; Peyton Manning, on the other hand, may get his very own Sphinx statue in Canton when it’s all said and done. I have trouble believing that this blitz attack supported by suffocating man coverage is going to faze Manning for any extended period of time. If he executes, the Colts will execute their game plan, and eventually, they’ll be able to answer the kind of slow, grinding touchdowns that the Jets have proven capable of creating with their run game. If the Colts have run into the first opponent that won’t be scared of them, the Jets have run into the first opponent with no reason to be scared of them. Manning is going to move the ball, regardless of how much time he has, and in a 17-14 squeaker, he’ll be the one engineering the final scoring drive. This is destiny, and the sands in the hour glass run only one way, people; it’s inevitable.


Except I’m not as convinced that the "inevitable" is, in fact, inevitable as it was a month ago. All week long I’ve heard about how this is the game where Mark Sanchez shows his true colors: A rookie quarterback nervous to be on a big stage and a little too bold considering his limited experience. The turnover is inevitable, and Braylon Edwards isn’t going to be there when it counts. I’m pretty sure Mike Francesa has devoted this entire week to reading his burn book entries on B-Easy and El Guapo. Great, but let me read the situation in a way that is equally truthful: The Jets have beaten a divisional champion and a Super Bowl contender without their quarterback or hyper talented receiver having good games. Mark Sanchez is due? You’re damn right he is; he’s due to make a team pay for pushing all their chips in on stopping the run. Somewhere, Braylon Edwards is repeating the words of his own father doubting him and getting pissed about his drops, and knowing that he, too, is due to taste the explosive game that inevitably comes to players of his talent.. And maybe, just maybe, this is that week. Sure, the Colts can beat the Jets we’ve seen up to this point, but that assumes that Edwards, Sanchez, and even Keller and Cotchery aren’t incredibly dangerous weapons in and of themselves. Mark Sanchez isn’t sick, and he isn’t a liability, and this week, this is the game where Mark Sanchez shows his true colors: A first round pick with the arm to make every throw, the talent to use his physical gifts, and the guts to take shots when he thinks they're there, with a receiving corps built on elite talents (Keller and Edwards) and the best hands in the AFC (Cotchery). And if THAT is the Jets team that the Colts need to beat, one that is ACTUALLY executing to perfection (and not just playing the really, really effective single dimension game that the media has mistaken for perfection), then I’m not sure even Peyton Manning can drag his squad to that finish line. Can it happen? Yes. Will it happen? Some might say it’s inevitable…

Endgame 2010 - Indianapolis Colts

If the Colts Were a Song:

Jim Jones - "Only One Way Up"



Who Are the Colts?:

It must be strange days for Peyton Manning. Not so long ago, there was no doubt he’d fall short of ultimate success; now it seems inevitable that he’ll have everything he’s ever wanted. Statistical achievement, marketable fame, and now the chance at victory, repeated, sustained victory. Strange days for those of us who watch him, too. We’d all gotten used to the post 2006 Manning, the one who had tasted victory and was all smiles, finally looking like he’d been satisfied. Silly us and sillier him for thinking that the angry, insecure monster inside truly great competitors goes away when it’s been fed. Any pretense that this season was any less desperate than his playoff runs before the ring went away when we saw his face as 14-0 became 14-1 as he sat on the sidelines. Anger, hot, burning indignation at the sting of defeat, particularly defeat that he couldn’t control, told us everything we need to know about the Colts this season. As much as this year has looked like destiny finally taking shape for the Colts, and for their leader, this team has fought every bit as hard for their chance at the title as their remaining opponents. They did it because as much as their opponents want their first taste of victory, these Colts don’t want to let it go. You think it’s hard being the barbarians at the gates? Try being the emperor, when everybody wants what’s yours almost as badly as you want to keep it. That Manning and his two or three peers in talent on this team have kept control of their division, and really their conference for this long is a feat that must have required equal parts talent and anxious, frantic, clinging tension.

It almost makes you feel sorry for a team that never lost when its starters took the field. Almost. Make no mistake, though, the Colts are the favorite to win this thing. They have been since the playoffs started. I’d imagine they resent you for ever thinking the Ravens had a chance, and are even more pissed off that you think the Jets are going to make them worry for a second this Sunday. Much of that dominant attitude traces back to Manning. Enough has been written on just how good he is, but if there was ever any doubt before, he’s clearly the best quarterback to play the game. Not the most successful, by any means, but if you don’t believe there’s a difference, then you’re reading the wrong blog. This year, with a team that would otherwise be mediocre, Manning threw the team on his back and made them not just winners, but elite. All of this is not to say that he hasn’t had help. Dallas Clark never gets his due when people refer to him as a “safety valve”. He’s every bit the weapon that Antonio Gates is, perhaps even more of a weapon thanks to his ability to work from various spots in the formation and beat defenses underneath or over the top. He has the same sixth sense for Manning’s preferences that made Marvin Harrison the best receiver in the league for so many years. On the other hand, what Reggie Wayne lacks in consistency, he makes up for in destructive potential. Those rare misfires between him and Manning? More often than not, it’s because Wayne is a step further ahead of the coverage than Manning expected (GASP). You don’t become a top five receiver and the one player to put the scare into Revis Island without being hyper talented and devastatingly precise in execution (Wayne will carry Marvin Harrison’s legacy as an incredible receiver through the destruction of Harrison’s character in the courts and the media). Oh, and Pierre Garcon (I can’t find the squiggle under the C in word, but you know it’s there) is scarily fast, and Austin Collie is Michael Crabtree with a more reasonable price tag. The end result is a pass attack that is second best in the league and able to attack quickly on all levels.


This is a very good thing for the Colts, because for a team that everyone expects to win, there’s not a whole lot of reliable components in this machine. The run game, for starters, needs to find a better word than “abysmal”. Last in the league, it’s a credit to Manning and his receivers that this team doesn’t turn the ball over a whole lot more. Meanwhile, this defense, though breathtakingly fast (Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis, on any other team, are perennial Pro Bowlers), is surprisingly soft in the middle (24th against the rush) and vulnerable to getting picked apart through the air (14th against the pass). All of this makes for an interesting matchup against the Jets, particularly because as one-dimensional as the Jets are accused of being, this Colts squad is equally one dimensional. When the pass attack works, the Tampa 2 defense effectively limits opponents’ points, and the Colts win. If it doesn’t…well, we haven’t had to figure that out yet this season.


Do you understand how hard that has to have been? This team has had these same flaws since last season, and they still managed to run off a ridiculous streak of regular season wins. Hell, they had to DECIDE to lose. They have the kinds of flaws that make their peers ordinary, and yet there is no doubt that the Colts are extraordinary, and have been extraordinary, and, barring and major changes, will remain extraordinary. So it makes sense that Manning, the undeniable leader of the gang, has seemed tense. Because this team will go as far as he and his fellow two or three rare talents can take them, and he knows it, the same way he’s known it since he arrived in Indianapolis. It’s wearing on him, which could be a shame, because it’s rare in any sport for a player to achieve this level of success year after year on the strength of his own will to make his team great. But for as long as it lasts, this team will remain special. Maybe that’s what we’ll remember about this team when their run inevitably ends. In a league built on the stars aligning for an entire team in order to achieve victory, two or three special players on this team have elevated an entire organization to their level, and have imposed their will on the rest of the league. This stands in stark contrast to the rest of the league’s elite, where systems and coaches take, and frequently deserve, the credit. The fact that those players were willing and able to take that responsibility on themselves, to decide they could and would change the course of the league on their own, makes this favorite as compelling as any underdog, and probably more significant.

Endgame 2010 – Minnesota Vikings

If the Vikings were a song:



Who Are the Vikings?:

Am I a bad person for not rooting for the Saints? Scratch that; am I a terrible person for actively rooting against the Saints? I’m aware that every Saints victory rebuilds an orphanage in New Orleans, but this far removed from Hurricane Katrina (and yes, I recognize that there is still an unbelievably pressing need for repair and revitalization work to be done in the community affected), am I really supposed to believe that a football team is “good for America”? I can’t be the only one who watches Drew Brees channel “300” in his pregame chant, or hears about Reggie Bush’s marriage promise to Kim Kardashian if he wins the championship, or listens to Jeremy Shockey talk about being undervalued, and gets the overwhelming feeling that in spite of the amazing things this team and the individuals it contains can accomplish, they’re kind of…well…douchebags. That’s why I’m thankful for the Vikings. In their construction and success, they’ve given us something that the Saints can never be due to their circumstances and composition: An antihero. Put it this way: If you root for Superman, then the Saints are your team, “Boondock Saints” is a cinematic masterpiece, and “The Buried Life” will be a life-changing television show. If, however, you think Superman maybe, even if he IS a nice guy, kind of has an ass kicking coming, then the Vikings are your team. Meet the Bizarro Saints, people; Vikings am built for win.

Let’s begin at the beginning; ESPN has ruined Brett Favre’s legacy as a football player. In force feeding us the image of a freewheeling man-child whose smiles added to his QB rating, the WWL has made a polarizing caricature out of a physical freak who should be undoubtedly respected for his skill set. Go back and look at what he did to the Cowboys and act like he’s not making throws that maybe two other quarterbacks in the entire league can make. Hell, that Greg Lewis last second TD pass from earlier this year that everyone was so ready to chalk up to “just throwing it up for grabs” might be the best long pass of this season OR last season. Knocking on 40’s door, Favre has put together his best statistical season (33 TD to 7 INT), and has done so without losing the pocket shiftiness and ability to improvise that have always made him an elite offensive weapon. Oh, and I know it’s no longer popular to say it, but is it so bad that he looks like he enjoys the game? The league has enough joyless football robots (every QB since 1998 has been doing a poor Peyton impression); why not sit back and enjoy a guy who looks like it’s not all a well choreographed dance? Compared to Brees’s methodical, precise attack, Favre’s think on the fly style (complete with a nasty chip on his shoulder) is practically Jazz out there.

Whether it starts with Favre or not, that same loose, split personality style goes to the rest of the team, making them either a flawed reflection or a nightmare matchup for their upcoming NFC Championship opponents. Sidney Rice is a southern fried Marques Colston, swallowing smaller corners in his shadow and using his body . Oh, and he might have better hands than Colston, too. Reggie Bush looks at Percy Harvin and gets upset about being drafted two years too early. Even Bernard Berrian fits, as the sort of speedy second option that the Saints seem to clone year after year (quick, where was Devery Henderson three years ago…my point exactly…). Throw in a defensive front that is built to give the Saints problems (strong middle combined with freakish athleticism around the edge that has led to a league leading 48 sacks...seriously, is there an end besides Mario Williams more freakishly athletic than Jared Allen?), and there’s no reason the Vikings shouldn’t win this.


Unless, of course, they get caught up in a shootout instead of an ugly war. Ugly wars are made for the Vikings, with their fear inducing defense and matchup advantages on the individual level. Shootouts, however, are the stomping grounds of the Saints. Given enough possessions, the system corrects itself, and starts to execute toward perfection. Which means the following: Adrian Peterson needs to be too fast to stop in the middle, too strong to stop around the edges, and every bit the unsolvable riddle that he is when he is at 100%. Forget Bizarro; Adrian Peterson needs to go Doomsday on the Saints defenders. If he has another game where he can’t break 100 yards, the Saints are eventually going to get the time they need to outscore the Vikings the way they can outscore every offense in the league. If Peterson keeps the clock moving, however, and forces a surprisingly opportunistic secondary to stay home in the middle of the field, I’m not sure the Saints will have an answer for Peterson. True, Favre may have helped shape this team’s identity as a championship contender, but Adrian Peterson has been waiting since 2007 for this stage, and at this point, the only thing that can stop him from taking what he wants is himself. Angry, deadly, and terrifying, and potentially self destructive…say hi to the bad guys.

Endgame 2010 - New Orleans Saints

The way people have been talking about the Saints, you would think they got beat by 800 points instead of a combined 10 in their two losses that counted (that Carolina game was a rest week, an issue whose debate was officially closed by Wes Welker). Certainly, the Saints wish they could have their last month back, in which they caught a tough loss to a Cowboys squad with everything in the world to play for and a divisional rival that desperately wanted to buy its young, likable coach one more year. The result is that a team that was once and has every right to still be a media darling has become an afterthought, not unlike the city they’ve represent. And while I generally eschew the idea that its best to enter the playoffs showing signs of weakness (history shows that peaking at the right time generally beats being the better team), I’m not so sure the return to the shadows is a bad thing for the Saints. For all the talk about how many weapons this team has, it is built around one man, and the Saints will survive only as long as his unique abilities and tactics go unchecked by opponents. Which brings us to the million dollar question: How do you stop Drew Brees?


If that seems like an exaggeration, check Brees’s stat sheet, the real punchline to the joke that is Peyton Manning’s latest MVP award (if the excuse for robbing Christ Johnson was that he didn’t win enough, what’s the word here, sportswriters?). Highest quarterback rating. Sixth in yardage (and Matt Schaub, Aaron Rodgers, Peyton Manning, and Tom Brady all throw so much because their teams have no choice). Finally, an ABSURD 70.6% completion rate on 514 attempts, and in case you think he’s dinking and dunking to that number, his average yards per attempt is 8.54. Throw in a league leading 34 touchdowns to just 11 interceptions (again, on over 500 pass attempts) and the picture is clear: Drew Brees is the Saints. Despite the plethora of weapons on this team, no weapon operates as effectively, or perhaps operates at all, without him. A glance at the receiving statistics over the course of the year reveals that despite having the leading pass attack in the league, the Saints don’t have a single top 15 receiver (although Marques Colston deserves credit for giving the Saints the crucial matchup problem that prevents teams from simply going to man and attacking Brees up the middle ruthlessly).

If Brees is the tangible cornerstone of what makes the Saints great, then precise execution is its intangible engine. This is what makes him so difficult to stop with conventionally constructed defenses. Edge rushers, the poison of shakier quarterbacks and the weapon of choice for some defenses, don’t faze him; his release, quicker than any quarterback except for Warner, makes teams pay for removing defenders from his line of sight. Leaving more defenders back only lets Brees cycle through his copious weapons, inevitably finding the passing seam he needs to allow his receivers to take advantage of the time they have to work. Brees, perhaps better than any other quarterback, knows how to use the weapons at his disposal quickly and precisely. It helps that his weapons are a team of pass catchers that would be top targets on their own for any other team. Devery Henderson might be the best second receiver in the NFC. Jeremy Shockey is over his hangover, or at least his metaphorical hangover, and finally seems at home in the Saints’ multifaceted, pass first offense. Robert Meachem is proving that the three year rule for wideouts, particularly ones whose promise lies in syncing physical gifts with technique learned by experience (did you know he had 9 TDs and over 700 yards?). But the “and” credit goes to Marques Colston (9 TDs, 1074 yards), who thinks that the three-year learning curve is for baby soft kids born with spoons in their mouths. It is to Colston’s credit that he stands out on what would otherwise be a really, really, really well choreographed dance by virtue of his nasty refusal to be tackled. He’s the bread knife in the kitchen set, not the prettiest, but without it you’ve just got shiny metal for show.

The way to stop Drew Brees, then, is not to mess with his control; you won’t take that from him. Rather, it would appear that the secret to stopping Drew Brees, one that teams may or may not have figured out in the last month of football, is to strike at that which he never controlled in the first place. Brees’s height, long the only physical gift believed to be missing from his arsenal, rarely comes into play against conventional defenses. However, when defenders have been able to attack the middle of the line, behemoths holding their hands high and creating a wall that Brees must go around, not through, the precision of Brees’s attack has seemed off. Not that he’s looked bad, but instead he’s looked human, which, for opponents of the Saints, is about as good a result as one can expect. Unfortunately for Brees, the road to the Super Bowl is filled with defenses built around punishing defensive tackles, along with linebackers capable of attacking offensive lines at their center. There’s a reason Osi Umenyiora and Justin Tuck didn’t faze Brees, but Jay Ratliff gave him fits, and it has nothing to do with the combatants and everything to do with the field of combat.

All of this is to say that while the Saints are Drew Brees, and have lived and died by him since his arrival in 2006, their hopes this postseason will travel only as far as perhaps the most forgotten man on their roster. Make no mistake: Reggie Bush needs to punish defenses on screens, flats, and quick outs. If defenders are free to leave him only minimally accounted for and crush Brees’s field of vision in the pocket, the Saints will have a very hard time beating elite competition. If, however, Bush does enough to keep linebackers honest and defensive ends from stunting to the middle consistently, teams may not have the opportunity to exploit the emerging weakness of the once infallible Saints offense. It’s really that simple; with the skies clear, nobody is stopping the Saints. Without that clarity, the ground game is mediocre and the defense (still bad statistically despite all the press to the contrary) can’t keep up with opponents. After years of hiding from the focal point status that ought to be required of his draft selection, and the Saints building their team around the surprising rise to power of a previously underrated veteran, Bush either becomes the title that was forced on him or irrevocably cements his reputation as a mistake. I guess the Saints really are a team of destiny, after all.

Endgame 2010 - Dallas Cowboys

If the Cowboys Were a Song:

Discovery - "I Want You Back"



Who Are the Cowboys?:

Looking at the favorites of this year’s NFC playoff crop, the big names of the Vikings, the aerial fireworks of the Saints, I wonder if the Cowboys don’t grin just a little. After all, what have been stunning turnarounds for the head of the NFC class are really just old hat for the league’s most storied franchise. Celebrity? The Cowboys INVENTED celebrity football, and as recently as last year had two of the league’s most polarizing figures leading their offense. As for offensive firepower, well, the Cowboys never met a passing scheme they didn’t like, with Tony Romo behind only Matt Schaub and Peyton Manning in terms of yardage, and Miles Austin sneaking into the league’s elite as the third best receiver in terms of yardage in the league. So it’s refreshing to see this year’s Cowboys leave the popularity contest game plans to their rivals and embrace a graceless, chaotic, and ugly style of play that leaves opponents struggling to find their footing until it’s too late to do anything about it. After years of being Tom Cruise, the Cowboys are showing a little Mickey Rourke this year, and the change is paying dividends.

Perhaps this is most apparent in the defensive front, where the Cowboys have exchanged name recognition for a scowl that is at once unfriendly for the cameras and significantly more effective than anything they’ve done up to this point. This is due in no small part to a rush defense that has beaten back a slew of rush attacks (4th in the league in yardage allowed) thanks to a corps of linebackers that fills gaps and frequently disrupts plays in the backfield. Yet the real change defensively has to be the shift from athleticism that keeps up with plays to burst that may allow more plays through the air than it has in the past (20th against the pass in yardage), but demolishes offensive cohesion when it succeeds. The Cowboys put up 42 sacks (7th in the league) and had 36 tackles for a loss. Furthermore, Jay Ratliff has become the sort of elite defensive lineman that can swing a game on his own disruption, acting like a bull in the china shop of opposing offensive backfields. With the LB corps taking advantage of the freedom Ratliff gives them to attack from all angles, one is hard pressed to imagine any offense getting into a rhythm against these guys.

The offense carries a similar air of disruption. Where the run game was once another token of Jerry Jones’s excess, coordinator Jason Garrett seems to have finally given the hydra of Barber, Jones, and Choice the balance it once lacked. That is to say, while there is a clear hierarchy (Barber, then Jones, then Choice), each back seems to finally have a clear role that allows him to capitalize on his talents (Choice has been particularly effective spelling Barber in short yardage and goal line situations). The result is a run game good enough for 7th best in the league in yardage, even with a well documented and potent pass-heavy attack (note that the Jets, Panthers, Dolphins, and Titans, all teams that live and die by the run, are ahead of them), never letting defenses find comfort in schematic matchups.


Of course, the pass is still the weapon of choice for this team, regardless of how many top tier rushing talents the team stockpiles. Romo’s progression is no surprise; he’s gotten more confident as a passer, particularly in a division full of disruptive defensive fronts, with every year. Witten’s dominance in the middle of the field is equally unsurprising; he’s always been the Antonio Gates of the intermediate pass, and has a punishing form after the run that compliments his ascension to the top of the receiving options nicely. What has been truly surprising, and what has given the Cowboys pass attack the rough edges that have made it so difficult to predict this year, is the development of Miles Austin. As was mentioned above, the man is the third best receiver in the league, besting Moss, Wayne, and any number of old school darlings in yardage. If this were due to his remarkable athleticism, that would be one thing, but what makes him such an interesting weapon is his ability to shift from gear-to-gear quicker than any receiver in the league. His stutter steps and first moves are like land mines, ripping apart coverage schemes once defenders bite, allowing him to find holes even in bracket coverage and frequently placing him behind safety help. The result has allowed Romo to make better use of Patrick Crayton (who is still quick enough to take advantage of single coverage) and even Roy E. Williams (who will play a role in these playoffs if the Cowboys are going to beat one of their elite competitors). It’s not necessarily an entirely different song the Cowboys are playing on offense, but thanks to Austin, it’s got danger in place of beauty, which in the NFL is beauty in its own right.

So the offense swaggers with the confidence of a chopped and screwed remix and the defense has learned to floor the pedal of its high motor talent rather than pace it. The question, then, is whether or not the Cowboys will run into an opponent that will take advantage of boom or bust disruption scheme on defense that comes from a high power line and a questionable secondary. With the unfortunate exception of their opponent this weekend, there has to be a legitimate question as to whether or not that kind of opponent exists in the NFC (and the Eagles are like a bizzaro Cowboys, making this upcoming game difficult to predict and potentially fantastic). So as the elites of the league spend this weekend on a bye and watch the rabble play for the right to compete against them next week, I imagine that this will be the one team they genuinely hope fails, because unlike the rest of the field, when it comes to championship football the Cowboys are doing all the right things. The difference this time is that unlike the last few illusory years, they’re doing them the “wrong” way.

Endgame 2010 - Cincinnati Bengals

If the Bengals Were a Song: Air France - "No Way Down"



Who Are the Bengals?:

There is a little part of all of us that needs to believe these Bengals can win this year. We all love the idea of a longsuffering team and fan base finally turning the corner and achieving success, but this goes beyond that. That would be true of any underdog in any season. To say that this year’s Bengals are another iteration of the same sad story that has been told and retold in Cincy for the last decade would be to ignore the fact that this team experienced loss in a waythat hasn’t been paralleled in a long, long time. Their defensive coordinator, who deserves the lion’s share of the credit for this team’s success this year, lost his wife in the middle of the season, and didn’t miss a beat in terms of his coaching responsibilities. Unbelievable. As if that weren’t enough, the team lost Chris Henry to a still unthinkable chain of events resulting in his sudden death. I can’t think of any comparison other than what happened to Sean Taylor, and this story somehow seems even more tragic because of how low Henry had sunk in his life and how close he seemed to becoming a healed, mature adult. For this team to have made it this far, dominated their division rivals, and earn a spot in the playoffs after all that is the kind of feat that is objectively admirable, regardless of rooting interest. Suffering remains the single most unifying concept we understand as people, and it is this understanding that connects us to this team.

It is this same understanding of suffering that makes the Bengals so hard to peg in terms of football talent. The numbers point to them being a legitimate threat against any potential opponent. They’re tough against the run (7th in the league), and even more deadly to passing attacks (6th in the league) thanks to a cornerback tandem that was shamefully overlooked in Pro Bowl voting (Jonathan Joseph deserved to go, and Leon Hall DEFINITELY deserved to go). Meanwhile Cedric Benson, who knows a thing or two about longsuffering (both tolerated and inflicted) rushed for over 1200 yards despite missing three games, putting up a yards per game average of 96.2, second only to Chris Johnson and making the ground attack 9th in the league in yardage. It’s ironic that this team faces the Jets in a first round playoff matchup, as the team will be looking into a mirror image of its newfound brutality.


Unfortunately, the mirror also reflects similarly uninspiring results through the air. Let me make one thing very clear: Nothing was going to make up for the loss of an athlete and player like Chris Henry. His absence has left the team without a big target in the red zone, and without a big play vertical threat. That said, there is no excuse for this team being as bad as 26th in the league in passing yardage. You’re telling me that Laveranues Coles, Andre Caldwell, and that other waste of space they drafted in two years ago can’t help Chad Ochocinco put up more yardage than this? Hell, Ochocinco alone ought to be worth more yardage, thanks to his underrated speed and precision in his cuts. The blame, then must return to the man who will be at the center of the Bengals’ postseason chances, and the man who has yet to prove he can overcome adversity such as the kind surrounding this season, Carson Palmer. Once destined to be the league’s next elite passer, Palmer appeared earlier this year to have shed the self-imposed pressures that had turned him into a psychological trainwreck earlier in his career, only to once again look somewhat shaken under center. For such a talented passer to have only 21 TDs and a pedestrian 6.64 YPA suggests that either the scheme has given up on his ability to stretch the field, or he’s given up on his own ability. Either way, without a marked turnaround this postseason, the Bengals will simple be too predictable to survive in a playoff filled with potential wildcards.

Still, I keep coming back to that game against the Chargers the week of Chris Henry’s tragic death. Faced with a matchup against the smart favorite to win the Super Bowl and the most unfair emotional burden placed on any team in the league, the Bengals played a beautifully run game and took the Chargers to the wire, losing to a field goal in the last seconds. Palmer threw for 314 yards, the multifaceted receiving corps kept the defense on its heels (five receivers had at least three receptions), and if an unbalanced run game (Larry Johnson was still being worked into a role) would have been more settled, who knows what could have happened? Prior to that point, the team looked ready to sink into a familiar mediocrity; after that game, they had found an edge that they will desperately need against the league’s elite teams. That’s the other thing about suffering; nobody quite knows how people emerge on the other side of it. If the Bengals have their talent executing at 100%, there isn’t a team in the AFC that can match them; at 85%, there might not be a team in the AFC they can beat. At the start of this season, I wrote that the Bengals had all of the tools to be the AFC’s most varied offense and most brutal defense. After a season that has done everything it can to break this team, I still feel the same way, which has me terrified as a Jets fan, but hopeful as a human being.

Endgame 2010 - Green Bay Packers

If the Packers Were a Song:

Lloyd Banks - "The First Me"



Who Are the Packers?:

Remember how early on we all liked this team as a potential dark horse for the Super Bowl? The Packers are offended that you think they need your condescending nods toward them being “potentially good” or “sneakily talented.” This team is great. It was built to be great. Hell, it was built to be obviously, over-the-top, scoreboard turning and headline grabbing great. Yet for some reason we all ignore all evidence to the contrary and relegate this team to some sort of feel good story, as if Aaron Rodgers needed our pity or Charles Woodson needed a pat on the back for being such a trooper in his old age. Except this isn’t a nice traditional team that plays the game respectably; rather, this is the same kind of unconventional, sometimes flashy and sometime infuriating behemoth that the Pittsburgh Steelers became en route to the Super Bowl last season. And make no mistakes, this team will have every right to be disappointed if they don’t see similar results.

We should start by getting the obvious out of the way: Aaron Rodgers is bigger than the Favre beef. Yes, Favre has put together an amazing season in Minnesota, but he also has a top tier offensive line, a big target to throw to, and either the best or second best running back in the league. Rodgers, on the other hand, has been sacked a league leading 50 times, doesn’t have a receiver over 6’1”, and is stuck with a mediocre rush attack that benefits from a spread offense and a lack of respect from defenses (Rodgers averaged more rushing yards per attempt than any of his backs, and had more attempts than all but one, Grant, who put up a pedestrian 4.4 yard average). Through all of that, Rodgers has put up 30 TDs to a ridiculously low 7 INTs (tied with, ha ha, Brett Favre for the lowest among full season starters), and has a 4th best yards per attempt average of 8.20 (and he threw more at least 27 more passes than everyone ahead of him). More importantly, he’s evolved over the course of the season from a QB with eyes bigger than his internal clock (many of the early sacks were as much his fault as his line’s) to a mobile, quick release field general who has learned to look for receivers breaking into open zones. Far from being an adequate Favre replacement, Rodgers is performing at a more efficient level than Favre could possibly have performed in Green Bay, and with each game since the Tampa Bay debacle has picked up the kind of swagger that comes with a mean chip on his shoulder.



Of course, Rodgers owes much of his success to one of the most underrated receiving units in the league. Certainly, nobody on this squad except for Jennings brings any elite skill to the table. Donald Driver is fast, but is 34, and the rest of the gang ranges from B to B+. Even Jennings lacks elite speed, though he makes up for it with quickness that still gets underrated by defenders. Yet taken as a whole, the result is something akin to a swarm of bees, overwhelming a defense by its lack of a defined focus, turning a million little stings into poison for coverage schemes and zone defenses. It’s almost a perfect reflection of the 2007 Patriots offense (Driver = Stallworth, Finley = Watson, Jones = Gaffney, Nelson = Welker) with the only exception being Greg Jennings. Before you point out what a big difference that is, watch what Jennings can do to closing corners and safeties after the catch or breaking into routes with a simple twist in his hips, and ask yourself if maybe his ability to work underneath makes him more fit for this offense than Favre’s much cherished Randy Moss.

The defense is an opportunistic nightmare for quarterbacks. The league’s leading rush defense dares offenses to take to the skies, only to find that the pass defense is equally talented (7th in the league overall) and thrives on the kinds of mistakes pass happy offenses inevitably make (1st in the league in INTs). The LB nightmare trio of Hawk, Barnett, and Matthews allows blitz schemes that most teams can only dream about. Meanwhile, Charles Woodson and Atari Bigby are out to prove just how soft receivers are, manhandling pass catchers and taking them out of position just long enough to beat them to their marks. Even with Harris injured, Bigby has more than stepped in to keep this secondary every bit as mean as when it was run by two grumpy old corners, something that bodes well for the future.


All of this has led to an 11-5 record that matches all but two teams in the NFC. Yet we doubt the Packers because they’ve committed the sin of being a traditional team that defies the league’s great traditions. Pass attacks are for the flashy showboats, not for the pillars of the shield (go ahead and look at the last few Super Bowl winners…it’s OK, I’ll wait). Oh, and without an offensive line, a quarterback doesn’t have the safety to comfortably sit back and plot out his attack, as all quarterbacks must do (ahem…BEN ROETHLISBERGER 2008...). Certainly, none of these criticisms are without merit. The ability to grind out a ball game helps in cold weather games…except the Packers may very well play every playoff game in a covered stadium. And for all of the woes at offensive line, Rodgers seems to have learned to excel within its unique (read: chaotic) framework. At the very least, this team has moved beyond being a right-way tourney entrant just happy to be there (see: Bengals). And whether they win or lose, lets all agree that we’re done talking about this squad as though they were anything other than a firework of a team, built for spectacles (see: the pass attack and the secondary) and not for sustained simple joy (see: the o-line and the injuries/age at corner). They’ve earned the right to be appreciated as the fever dream they are.

Endgame 2010 - New York Jets

Welcome to TiT's own spin on playoff previews. Over the next couple of days, we'll be taking a look at each of the postseason participants, what they've accomplished, and what they mean to the rest of this year's story.

If the Jets were a song:

Maino - "Gotta Love Me"



Why Do the Jets Matter?:

I’m not one to feign objectivity, so I won’t try here.

For this entire season, I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel about this Jets team. On the one hand, I’ve damned them with the title “more talent and less heart” than any team I’ve ever cheered for, but the more I watch them play, the less certain I am that this fits.

Thinking back to the 2006 playoff team, a favorite of mine held together by creative play calling and Chad Pennington’s mind, that team didn’t need to care; every win was a surprise, and the team made the whole affair look fun. By contrast, this season has been anything but fun. Surprising, sure, but fun? You think it’s fun believing Mark Sanchez can be as good as he’s looked earlier in the year only to watch him make stupid rookie mistakes that lose games? You think it’s fun watching Braylon Edwards use his size and speed to beat defenders only to have him bobble a sure touchdown? You think it’s fun watching this defense put up an elite statistical performance for the year only to melt down at key moments in gut wrenching losses (the Miami and Jacksonville games stand out as particularly painful)? For the first time in years, I’ve had games where I needed an hour afterwards just to cool down before I could behave sociably around anyone. This past Sunday, with the playoffs on the line, I brought a little stress ball with me in anticipation of what could have been yet another stomach punch on the season. Believe me when I tell you that none of these things are “fun”.

The thing is, caring isn’t fun, and unlike the majority of the Jets teams of this past decade, I actually care about this team succeeding, as opposed to just trying hard or, at worst, not getting embarrassed. This is because this team seems to care deeply about itself, despite all the chatter about unfocused quarterbacks or wannabe models or loudmouth coaches. When the media turned on it and the fans embraced the pessimism that comes with wearing green and white, this team never let go of the great expectations that accompanied its early performance. It’s the reason that Rex Ryan cries, the defense gets genuinely upset at its losses, Braylon Edwards looks stunned at himself on his drops, and Mark Sanchez looks like life has punched him in the face after every interception. It’s the same reason we drink and listen to sad songs after a breakup, or kill ourselves trying to figure out why we didn’t get the promotion we thought we’d earned. The problem is that caring requires a little faith in the thing you care about, and when that little investment of faith is proven to be a mistake, or even shaken in the slightest, it hurts. And that is why this team has been so hard to root for; because I care about it, and caring usually hurts.


But caring for a team is what makes supporting a team worthwhile in the first place. I’d almost forgotten that, with 2006 being such a breezy, pleasant surprise and everything after it feeling like such an obvious mess. When Mark Sanchez connects with Braylon Edwards, it doesn’t feel unexpected; it feels like they’re finally figuring out what role they play in each other’s development on offense, and their resulting happiness carries that additional significance. When Rex Ryan shouts praises at his defense from the sideline, it’s because they are proving themselves to be just as unyielding as he knows they can be, and I find myself shouting at the television as well, because I believe just a little bit more like Rex does. For better or for worse, I am invested in this Jets team like I haven’t been invested in a long time, because they’ve gotten me actually thinking they can pull off the crazy things they’ve been saying they can pull off all year long.

That’s not to say that this team is some insane pipe dream. The fact is that the number one rushing offense combined with the number one overall defense (complete with the best passing defense in the league) is going to be a tough pill for any opponent to swallow. If Mark Sanchez has learned more than the media seems to think he has (and judging from how he kept the ball in places where only his guys could get it last week, I believe he has), it’s going to be very hard to score on this team, and very difficult to get the ball back from them. These are the statistical facts, and they’re good for the Jets, particularly if this team is so pissed off from the talk that they don’t deserve to be here that they decide to execute their game to perfection for four games in a row. Still, I’m not here to tell you about the hard data that confirms what I’ve come to believe about this team, or that they can actually shock some people this postseason. That’s not what makes this Jets team special. I’m here to tell you that this team actually got me to care about them putting up those numbers and achieving the success they have this year. Which means that as much as this season has disappointed me at times, the satisfaction I have watching this team now more than makes up for it.