What Dreams May Come – Demaryius Thomas

(For the soundtrack)

I really, really hate bringing another prospect down to highlight a personal favorite’s talent, but it’s really the only way I can get my point across here. Dez Bryant, pretty much the consensus first WR drafted in the upcoming draft, had his best year as a sophomore in 2008, when he put up 1480 yards on 87 receptions (17.0 avg), and caught 19 TD. He stands 6’2”, weighs 215 pounds, and despite so-so top end speed is a very difficult tackle to make for smaller cornerbacks. He has all the tools to be a Derrick Mason or Anquan Boldin caliber possession receiver, and I want to say up front that ANY team should, at worst, be happy to get that in the first round (and THRILLED with that later in the first and beyond). You knew all of this, though, because you’ve heard of him thanks to ESPN reporting his various “scandals” (his suspension this past season was officially when I turned on the NCAA as an exploitative labor organization) paired with a major college program’s offense being built around him. He’s a star, and there are many good arguments to be made that he deserves this status.

Why, then, aren’t we talking about Demaryius Thomas as an unquestionable top 10 pick? Well, the problem quite frankly, is where Thomas comes from, specifically an option offense, which limited his opportunities to prove his potential. On physical tools alone, he’s bigger (6’3”, 229 pounds) and faster than Bryant, and he comes from an equally well known program. His statistics are equally impressive by comparison. Yes, Thomas put up 1154 yards, over 300 fewer than Bryant. What that doesn’t tell you is that he did so on just 46 receptions, just slightly more than half of the number Bryant got, for an NCAA leading 25.1 yards per catch. Oh, and he had 8 TD to boot on that paltry number of attempts. Yes, it’s dangerous to extrapolate statistics outside of context, but does it really take an unreasonable stretch to say that the numbers actually point to Thomas being much, much better as a prospect than any other receiver on the board?

(For the highlights)

And really, context is what is sorely missing from any analysis of Thomas as a football player. The victim of the most drastic system shifts in NCAA football, Thomas went from being the top target in a pro style offense to a nifty toy in Paul Johnson’s team building, yet individual masking option offense. Josh Nesbitt, a QB who will make an interesting project for some NFL team, is no elite passing prospect, making those throws that did go Thomas’s way often off target, making Thomas’s statistical consistency in a grounded offense (he had 8 games with a TD, never failed to catch a pass in any game, and had 10 games of 70 yards or more) all the more impressive. Looking at how often Thomas had to adjust his body to make a play on the ball, and even then was able to use his size to lose defenders, you would think that the media would be talking about what Thomas could do given enough air and opportunity. Yet it is precisely those tools that made him a success that have scouts doubting his ability at the next level. Questions about his route running, and even the fact that he hasn’t had to master a pro style offense, all show a refusal to see beyond the context, as if it was Thomas’s security blanket instead of his prison. I highly doubt Thomas begged for a system that wouldn’t teach him to be a pro caliber WR, and yet somehow the fact that he didn’t rail against change makes him too raw for success at the next level (remind me, what do position coaches do again?). Of course if he did make an issue of his system, not only would that have hindered all of us the opportunity to see undeniable talent (regardless of the context), but it would also have made him a “problem child”. That’s the thing about context; the outside observer can shape it in their mind, but those on the inside can never truly escape it.

All of this is why I’m hoping that some team with a need for real vertical athleticism that has both the coaching staff and the possession receiver support to help Thomas grow into the details of the pro game will take a chance on Thomas in the first round. Because the only way for Thomas to rise above the context of his past is to arrive at a place that needs him as much as he needs them. We’re big on “freedom” for talents in the NFL, and only the freedom of desperation mixed with hope will let Thomas prove himself as a pro (instead of a “limited” college player) and grow at a natural pace (because yes, he will need to learn the ins and outs of NFL receiving…JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER WR IN THE DRAFT). If a team doesn’t have the inclination to take Brandon Marshall (which they really should have by now), isn’t this the natural next move for the kind of vertically limited teams that are looking at Marshall. Isn’t Seattle all about creating a new image now, starting with a more threatening passing offense? Isn’t Cleveland desperate for an over the top physical deep threat to finally turn their underrated possession receiver mob from bland to devastatingly effective? Just about every first round skill position talent in the NFL draft comes from an offense built around them. Their context was tailored to their immense potential. In Demaryius Thomas we are looking at a player that maximized his potential during his time in college, and could actually view the NFL as a place to roam MORE freely. Get over the option problem, scouts; a wise man once said that it ain’t where you’re from, after all.

What Dreams May Come 2010 - Ndamukong Suh

We’ve become far too comfortable with the term “monster”. In an effort to keep us afraid, the 24 hour news cycle has started labeling anything evil, or even just bad in some cases as the result of monsters, as if people doing monstrous things are monsters by definition. This is, of course, no truer than saying that a business traveler who flies with frequency is a bird. Mere men as monsters makes them seem distant and easy, as if they succeed only because we don’t know what they’re doing. But real monsters, the kind that existed in myth before we needed to make everyone afraid of everything for financial or political gain, are monsters because they will not be stopped by our knowledge or tactics. They will not stop at all; it isn’t in their nature. Monsters just keep coming, keep attacking, keep hunting you, and the worst of them are always a step ahead of you, meeting you with teeth bared as you change direction to escape or laughing at an attack that they always knew was coming. We fear monsters because of not only the things they do, but also the terrifying way they are. Ndamukong Suh, then, has the potential to be the scariest monster in football.



All of this is to say that the Rams stand at the doorway of making this year’s stunning draft mistake, the biggest since the JaMarcus Russell debacle. They’re about to take Sam Bradford because while Ndamukong Suh is the greatest talent in this draft, he doesn’t fit the need that they have at quarterback, the “most important” position. If you would give me just one moment, I can’t think of anything stupider than the idea that because one position is perceived as more important than another, that somehow makes up for a huge disparity in talent between two players. If anything, shouldn’t that make a team LESS likely to draft a quarterback who could be “good” with the first overall pick? Meanwhile, Suh could change the position of DT (this sounds more hyperbolic than it is; the first overall pick should do something uniquely special at his position). Suh’s physicality (5.03 second 40, 35.5 inch vertical, and 32 reps on the bench press) is such that he has the ability to shift gears and use the threat of his direct attack to create chaos by dropping back. In zone coverage, he has the quickness of a linebacker, finding ways to disrupt passes and throw off quarterbacks who think they’ve found timing. Even Albert Haynesworth, the most highly regarded DT in the league, doesn’t have this proficiency in the defensive backfield. Suh is a Predator in a DT landscape filled with Mike Myers clones, able to spring traps as easily as he can aggressively shatter the safety of the offensive backfield.

Of course, this versatility is the twist that makes Suh unique; what makes him a monster are his pass rushes. His beautiful, terrible, deceptively simple pass rushes. Watch the video and witness the terrible truth that he doesn’t stop. Whether the play lasts three seconds or thirteen Suh is always advancing, always attacking, and always present in the quarterback’s state of mind. There’s good reason for this; Suh is scariest when he appears to have been lost in the play. His ability to manhandle offensive linemen is something that happens so often that it becomes almost commonplace (ALMOST…I want to be clear that there is nothing commonplace about his physical dominance on the field), making the image of him forcing linemen back and closing in on a quarterback like Poe’s pendulum lose some of its rightful terror. What you never really get used to are the plays where it looks like the offense has shaken him, only to have him pop into the action from out of nowhere. Watch the highlight reel for the plays where he vanishes from sight and then suddenly reappears to pounce on the ball carrier seconds later. THAT is some monster action right there. The same relentless pursuit that makes him push through blockers is what has quarterbacks shaken even when he’s not around. They know he’s coming, because they’ve seen the same tape we have, and they know that he’s not going to stop until they act or get crushed. He’s Jaws, or maybe even death itself, closing in and terrifying even when he’s not immediately visible simply by virtue of his existence. Ask Soren or Ivan what that sort of proximity to death does to a man.

If the thought of Ndamukong Suh wreaking havoc is exciting, then the thought of him entering the league feeling slighted has me thrilled. This sort of versatility combined with relentless, unstoppable power and pursuit hasn’t been seen on the defensive line since Jason Taylor, and Suh is stronger than Taylor ever was. He thrives off of both his actual ability and the fear that that ability creates in opponents. It’s that fear that sets the tone of every play in which he’s involved. He doesn’t go away when you change or tweak; you still need to run, because he’s only a step away from being on top of you. That, my friends, is what makes a monster.

What Dreams May Come 2010 - CJ Spiller

I tried not to start 2010’s “What Dreams May Come” series with CJ Spiller. Really, I tried. It’s much sexier to write about the obscure player whose gifts, once brought into the NFL game, will come through more clearly than they ever did in college. Chris Johnson’s speed, Aaron Curry’s tackling, these are the sort of singular talents that can only be appreciated when seen in the context of the highest level of competition in the sport, giving impressive substance to what in college is just ethereal style. The problem is that, with CJ Spiller, this appreciation for otherworldly singularities might just be going mainstream. Curry’s selection at the fourth pick was something of a “total package” pick, one based in a stunning physicality rather than in what actually made Curry special on the field (not that they are entirely separate, but it goes to the distinction between potential and performance). Chris Johnson was, at the time of his draft, considered a huge reach by the Titans. CJ Spiller, on the other hand, is almost certainly going in the first round, and it isn’t because he has a prototypical build for his position or because some team will take a “crazy” chance on him; it is because he is the standard bearer for the league’s embracing flashes of brilliance as endpoints in and of themselves instead of just markers of a player’s journey to becoming “complete”. The way has been paved by his peers, and Spiller will be the first test case of whether this change in focus can have the results we’ve always believed it should.

If that sounds esoteric, it’s only because CJ Spiller represents something that this blog has particularly hoped for since its inception. By anybody’s objective standard, however, CJ Spiller is a phenomenal talent. Last season, taking the lion’s share of the work for the Clemson offense, Spiller gained 1212 yards on 216 carries (5.6 average) and 12 TD. He also caught 36 passes for 503 yards and 4 TD. He also handled kickoff and punt duties to the point where teams simple avoided giving him the opportunity to hurt them as often as they could. He showed an ability to take a game over on his own ability, with 7 games of over 100 yards of total offense. Furthermore, he could take games over in a variety of ways. Yes, he was graceful in his crushing of Florida State (165 yards and 1 TD rushing, 67 yards and 1 TD receiving), but perhaps his most impressive effort came in a loss (they always seem to around here…) to Georgia Tech, in which Spiller singlehandedly kept Clemson within a score of defeating a talent laden team thanks to his 233 yards and 4 TD on the ground. Spiller’s quickness translates into any offensive capacity, and time after time, he proved that he could use it to punish teams in whatever way they would allow him to do so.




Spiller’s drawback in any other year would be his size, standing just 5’11” and 195 pounds. Thankfully, this is where the shift in focus comes in. In part because of the incredible workouts given by stars in recent years and in part because of the incredible workouts given by busts in years past, teams seem to be focusing more on how a player’s gifts can be built around in an offense, instead of seeing them as signs that a player can be made “whole” and THEN use his incredible gifts within a rigid scheme. It’s the reason we now have running back platoons; the “complete” player is now seen as the unicorn it always was. It is in this league that Spiller can shine on an offense. Percy Harvin found success in his first year as a part of the Vikings offense, all because Brad Childress recognized that he had the opportunity to tailor his system to have a new aspect of versatility that it hadn’t had before and that opponents had not yet seen. Spiller has every gift that Harvin has and more. Spiller ran the 40 in 4.37 seconds, has a 36 inch vertical leap, changes direction as quickly as any back available, and has hands that make him a threat on passing downs. He won’t have to take every carry or block on every down because teams don’t expect players to do that anymore; they expect them to be sufficient enough with their weaknesses so that they don’t create huge problems when they are on the field, and simply use someone else when those weaknesses would come into most sharp relief. In short, the league has evolved into a place that tailors to an offensive player’s unique gifts so that they can be used most effectively, and there is no offensive player in this draft with gifts like CJ Spiller.

Watch Spiller’s highlights and tell me you don’t think that speed and quickness will translate into an NFL passing game, where he’ll be matched up against slower linebackers or safeties that are out of position for his ability to change direction. He could just as easily be a threat on the ground, taking surprise handoffs to go outside of the tackles or hit an apparent hole in the line to get to the second level, where his top gear gives any play the potential for disaster. With defenses still figuring out ways to account for a wave of NFL offenses relying on two backs, and therefore on fresher, quicker legs, Spiller could be the ultimate tool in exploiting the fatigue levels that come from defenders reacting to backs moving consistently more quickly than they’ve moved in years past. Spiller would then be the result of the positional shift that we’ve seen in how teams balance systems and individuals. Years after the Reggie Bush “failure”, teams have learned to build around what they have instead of expecting “incomplete” players to succeed in ways they never could at the expense of their natural abilities. The fear of the singular talent is, it would seem, finally dead. Good thing, too, because a league in which a firework like Spiller gets to have his game focus on the explosions rather than making them a quirky sideshow, and it is the reason why CJ Spiller is rightfully the most important offensive player in the 2010 draft.

Offseason Curl Routes #1.5 (Bengals!)

It struck me that I forgot to mention just how excited I am to watch the Bengals play football next season (if you're not following me on Twitter, and why would you, you missed my 140 character freakout about this). I have loved the way this team has decided to view last year's ground game renaissance as a strengthening of the offensive foundation rather than a total shift in philosophy. Certainly, Benson and Scott (who sound like an early 90's cop duo) give this offense the much needed hard-nosed credibility they've historically lacked, but to focus on them would be to give up too quickly on the ethereal dream that Carson Palmer and Chad Ochocinco have worked all these years to make real.

So to say that I'm pleased with the signing of Antonio Bryant (and MATT JONES because WE DO NOT FORGET MATT JONES) would be an understatement. The move represented not only an acquisition of weaponry, but also admirable discernment in choosing the less heralded, less easy-on-the-eyes game of Bryant over the celebrity of T.O.. Owens will land someplace (I hope), but Bryant represents the final piece of the matchup nightmare jigsaw killer trap that the Bengals have quietly been constructing. Defenses that choose to focus on Ochocinco now will find themselves spread awfully thin against Antonio Bryant (who can go down the field and force safety attention), Matt Jones (who has the tools to do the same, except with more speed and size), and the underrated Andre Caldwell (the sneakiest slot man in the game last season). Throw in Jerome Simpson (whose vert is going to get respect sooner or later), and the supporting cast should finally give Ochocinco the room to do what he does best: Humiliate defenders with the ability to run complex routes with a quickness and precision that might not be matched in the league. The 2007 Pats proved that frustration is as effective an offensive weapon as any one player, and this team has the versatility to keep defenses on their heels.

If you think this sounds like a fantasy, just remember that the Chargers have had one of the most potent offenses in the league on the strength of mismatches at WR alone, and they never had the ground game the Bengals did last year working in tandem with those mismatches, nor did they have the combination of size AND speed that the Bengals will have in Cincy. If Marvin Lewis's culture of hard lessons leading to redemptive growth (which has done wonders for Cedric Benson and Tank Johnson) can be translated to something as graceful as the passing offense Carson Palmer was born to run, last season's success will go from a fever dream to a frightening prelude. In the sequel, the monsters can fly.

Offseason Curl Routes #1

Because not every single offseason move has been one that either you or I find interesting enough to devote the usual attention to…

- SENECA WALLACE, FREE! Yes, I understand it’s a pipe dream, but I’m glad to see he’ll actually get a shot with team that isn’t racked with injuries (like he sort of did last year in Seattle…when he outplayed Hasselbeck…). It’s a very smart stopgap move at QB for a team facing bigger needs at WR and a weak QB draft class, and could have some very high upside.

- Next up on the freedom trail, FREE TROY SMITH! Seriously, a 5th rounder is all it will take. A FIFTH ROUND PICK! Bills? Raiders? Panthers? NONE OF YOU THINK THIS MIGHT BE WORTH LOOKING INTO? I understand Wallace getting taken first, simply because he has starting experience in a West Coast Offense. Still, Smith might have even more upside at even less cost, thanks to his similar athleticism, his bigger arm, and his willingness to operate from a pocket this early in his career. The fact that teams are buying spectacle with their dollars and not developing growth is why I hate the way spectacle runs this league's roster moves.

- Look, nobody is saying that Julius Peppers hasn’t underachieved, or that it’s a great idea to pay him over $40 million in guaranteed money. Still, facts are facts, and these are the facts: In eight seasons, Peppers has had only two where he had fewer than 10 sacks, one of which was an injury bugged 2007 season. Four of those seasons saw Peppers put up 11 or more sacks, and he is only one year removed from a career high 14.5 sacks in a single season. In 2009, an “off” year, when teams had no reason to throw that much, Peppers still managed 10.5 sacks, good for 10th most in the league, and 8th most from a defensive end. Furthermore, you have to overpay at least a little (and yes, this is more than a little) to get him. Bringing him on to a defensive unit that already has a centerpiece and leader (Urlacher returns this season unquestionably makes your defense better. Personally, I’m excited that two prodigies at their defensive positions have united for the long road back to elite recognition, under a couple of defensive coaches who could use some redemption of their own.

- I’m definitely a little biased, but how are the Jets not the clear winners of the offseason right now? Antonio Cromartie is a 25 year old Pro Bowl caliber corner with excellent hands to match his physical gifts, and he’s our SECOND cornerback? No, I’m not concerned about his extracurricular activities. Not at all. We’re standing at the door of a defense built as much on fear as it is on actual talent (who wants to throw, even in a passing league, on this defense?).

- I’m OK with Kerry Rhodes being gone. I can’t say I’m not sad, but he hit a rough patch that he was either unwilling (what I think happened) or unable (what he should hope didn’t happen) to overcome. Ryan’s schemes require a strong safety to do more than play centerfield and make a fun delay blitz every once in a while. Rhodes, on the other hand, is built to play back and use his considerable athleticism in reaction. He could easily wind up being worth more than a 4th and 7th rounder to the Cardinals, but he wouldn’t have been worth that for the Jets. A rare win-win.

- I have no such complex feelings about the Antrel Rolle signing. The Giants just made an above average safety who wasn’t even the best on his own team the richest safety in the league. Feeling like you need to crush the market is what leads to stupidly high contracts like this…

- Finally, I’ve written how much I respect Andy Reid for sticking to his guns and claiming McNabb as his guy. It’s the sort of loyalty backed by logical understanding that is incredibly rare in the league. That said, if the Eagles go into next season without having gained a single asset for either McNabb or Kolb (there is no Vick market, despite what the team believes), this offseason has been a monumental failure. Nobody is paying two first round picks for Kevin Kolb, and nobody is paying as high a pick as the Eagles apparently want for McNabb (a 1st rounder is the rumor). so figure out that the only thing worse than not getting what you want is getting nothing at all and make a move, Eagles. Personally, I think trading Kolb (FREE KEVIN KOLB) is the obvious choice. I’m not sure why McNabb being 33 somehow guarantees that he’s in the twilight of his career, but he certainly has enough left for the team to develop another replacement. If the front office is going to give Reid his year with his disciple, they should give him a year fully devoted to success with that system, rather than keeping Kolb around for some future that neither Reid or McNabb are clearly contemplating yet.

Offseason Moves – Nate Burleson Activates Megatron

Wide receivers are pack animals, despite what you may have heard. Certainly, there are alpha dogs in any pack, but by their nature they are as dependent on the pack as the pack is on them. There’s a reason the “lone wolf” is a cute idea for thirtysomethings and a cautionary tale in nature. For all of the talk about it being a glamour position, smart pass attacks rely on the interplay between bodies in motion, regardless of mass or velocity, and not merely any one part of the larger equation. It’s a beautiful illustration of Hume’s physics; units do not initiate of their own reason, but rather have each of their actions connected to other actors. This is not to say that the tired adage of “a chain is only as strong as its weakest link” is infallibly true; great football talents define their greatness by making up for the weakness of others around them. However, it does indicate that there must be a reasonably designed “chain” before any real accomplishment can result from one link’s strength.

The Detroit Lions offense has, for the last year and a half, essentially been Calvin Johnson as a steel ring linked to ropes of sand. Last year saw Megatron put up 67 receptions for 984 yards (14.7 avg) in just 14 games, and yet it all felt very pedestrian, particularly with only 5 receptions going for touchdowns. By contrast, Johnson’s rookie campaign had 4 touchdowns on 756 yards and 48 receptions (15.8 avg), and his 2008 statistics were otherworldly considering that he had absolutely no support once Roy Williams left. Indeed, since Williams’s absence, Calvin Johnson has seemed like more of a monument to what Calvin Johnson could be than anything else, either pouring transcendent performances into mundane team losses at best or straining to break free at worst. Much of this can be traced to the fact that Johnson has no support. Brandon Pettigrew started to emerge prior to his season ending injury, but adding a dynamic receiving tight end didn’t so much end Johnson’s existence on an offensive island as much as push that island further down the field, opening short range work but leaving Johnson’s unparalleled deep threat gifts with no outlet.


Enter Nate Burleson. If Johnson is the heralded coming of the new great receiver, visibly dominating matchup nightmares, Burleson is a passing league’s best kept secret. Quiet as kept, Burleson put up 812 yards on 63 receptions (12.9 avg) while the Seahawks didn’t realize he was their best target for half the season, with a broken down Matt Hasselbeck trying to force the ball to beta-in-alpha’s-clothing TJ Houshmandzadeh and no run game for most of the year. Unlike every playmate Johnson has had since Williams, Burleson also brings another important plus to the Lions pass attack; he plays the same deep game that Johnson does, he just plays it differently. In place of Johnson’s visible dominance, Burleson has a sort of sixth sense for the ball, finding it at the last second and preventing defenders from turning away from him to intercept, then taking angles after the catch that unfold as though he’d had weeks rather than seconds to plan them. Combined with the speed to make these gifts work downfield, Burleson’s old school savvy should find itself paired with Johnson’s new school mutation in the long range aerial attack.

All of this is to say that we may finally get to see the return Megatron as mythic titan instead of beast of burden. Burleson is the deep target who can and will punish teams for devoting too much safety help on defense to Johnson. With Pettigrew working similarly beneath the field, we may finally get to see Megatron exist without the unnatural constraints that defenses have been able to put on him thanks to his solitude in the Lions offense. This makes Burleson’s immersion into the Detroit offense as a legitimate downfield weapon critical for the team’s success and for Johnson’s rightful claim to dominance in the NFL. As an also ran, Burleson gives Johnson little more than Bryant Johnson or Shaun McDonald (Stallworth in New England sticks out as well); as a core part of the offense, his success will only increase that of Megatron (think Housh and Ochocinco in Cincy). In place of the circus sideshow (we hate the spectacle around here), Detroit finally has found the planets necessary to create a universe, which is all Johnson, it’s sun, has needed to shine.

Monuments Aren't for the Present

After Will Ferrell and Tracy Morgan had left, the 2004 SNL season rolled around and the biggest draw left in the cast was Jimmy Fallon. Most longtime SNL fans never really warmed up to Fallon during his stint on the show, and this was their worst nightmare. They just knew that this goofy kid that never seemed comfortable and giggled his way through any good material was going to ruin everything…and then he didn’t. The show leaned on him for everything he could do, and he pulled out all the Nick Burns and Barry Gibb Talk Show and Gap Clerk that he could, and to everyone’s surprise he managed to carry the show on his back for a season. It wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t bad either, and it was what the show needed when it needed it. Anyone who was a fan of SNL at the time has to admit that as much as Jimmy Fallon may have never really suited their taste, he did a respectable job with the show during the time he was trusted with it. All of that is to say the following: Thomas Jones deserved more credit than I gave him as a Jet.

That isn’t to say that Jones wasn’t infuriating at times, particularly when he was piling up statistics and the team was winning. I’ve never seen a back with a worse grasp of his gifts. Jones, a natural power back with a nose for quickly finding his way through holes and punishing middle defenders, had an inexplicable penchant for dancing in the backfield. This tactic let to useless lateral moves that could generously be described as gradual, and frequently turned an otherwise consistent offensive tool into a novelty act. He had an equally frustrating tendency to disappear during the Brett Favre year, when he was racking up yardage anytime except for when it was most needed. Worse still for Jones was his joining the team the year after the 2006 playoff run, when offensive creativity in spite of the lack of a back of his caliber paved the way to the postseason. By contrast, Jones’s first year, with its over reliance on the back and lack of real offensive line strength, felt like an ugly retread of Herm Edwards at his worst, taking a system and forcing it into inert tradition simply because it seemed like the safe thing to do, making the team the Jay Leno of offenses (yes, I’ve been watching too much late night television). It was that year, in fact, that laid the foundation for my troubled relationship to the man who had been thrust into the center of our offense.


Yet while Jones did have his flaws, maybe I was too busy looking for what he wasn’t to see what he was. He didn’t ask to be the focus of the offense in 2007; Mangini just threw him there because he wasn’t clever enough to think of anything else. His disappearances in 2008 could just have easily been attributed to a coaching staff desperate for populist appeal, going to their celebrity quarterback instead of a running back that had proven he could get the job done (his 4.5 yards per carry led him to an AFC rushing title, yet the team went 9-7). He never asked to take touches away from Leon Washington (always the more exciting player) or Shonn Greene (basically a younger version of himself), but the team felt compelled to make him into the centerpiece they were paying him to be. To his credit, Jones did exactly what was asked of him. In the abysmal 2007 campaign, Jones still managed 1119 yards, good for 10th in the league. In 2008, on 20 fewer touches, he put up an even more impressive year. Is it fair to blame him for never being anything more than exactly what the team asked him to be when the team essentially asked him to be their rock on offense? Looking back, I felt like I was the only one who saw how Jones’s steady, unchanging nature was holding the team back; now I see less prophet and more drunken little league dad in those declarations, which missed what Jones was accomplishing every week.



This past year, with a rookie quarterback, no clear number one receiver for half of the year, and a brand new defensive scheme in place, Jones was once again asked to be the lead dog on our offense. I’m sure he knew that a lot of fans would hate him for it, with his boring, up the gut runs and his making bizarre footwork decisions in the backfield from time to time taking away from Mark Sanchez’s development as a passer or Shonn Greene’s development as a back or further removing Leon Washington as a dynamic offensive threat (something a broken leg would later accomplish). Yet Jones quietly carried the load with the same tempered rhythm that defined his tenure with the Jets, and he put up a career year in yardage. I hadn’t realized that until the season was over, that Jones had, in a year where the team was preparing to phase him out as their offensive leader, compiled his most impressive individual achievements in yardage (and his 4.2 yards per carry on a career high 331 carries is also a ridiculously impressive number at his age). That was the way it went with my perspective on Thomas Jones; somehow, it felt like he should be doing something different. Only in retrospect do I really appreciate what he did, as opposed to what he didn’t do. And so as he leaves the team, I can look back on his career and say that while I honestly never warmed up to his role on the Jets, that had more to do with me than with him, and I can say that when he was trusted with my team, he did what he was asked to do. We should all be so well remembered.