At the NFL level, where nearly every player has already won the DNA lottery, there are plenty of candidates to be effective tight-ends who can both run block like guards and get downfield like receivers -- or at least there are enough to be a force in the league and make every other team salivate (I'm looking at you Antonio Gates). At the lower levels though, finding one of these perfect specimens isn't so easy. And, with the rise of the spread, it is no surprise that tight-ends don't take the field quite as often as they used to. But reports of the demise of the position are overstated.
As an example, one coach recently asked, "Realistically, how much of a problem does a TE as a pass blocker pose in modern football?" He went on to say, "I say this because now that everyone's trying to go to some type of spread and put as many small, quick guys on the field as possible, TEs are becoming an almost endangered species on teams who want to throw." There were other observations about the ongoing usefulness of the tight-end position. Although I agree that just holding up a freak like Antonio Gates doesn't get you far (good luck finding those), I do not think the position is so useless or impractical as some have implied. (Beware, this post is kind of wonky and technical.)
Homer Smith discussed the role of the TE/H-back as a triple threat: he can block, release vertical (in a way that a back cannot), and can block for a few counts and release on a delayed pass, and therefore make two guys cover him. Here is what Homer Smith explained:
It takes a sixth frontal player (not counting the QB) to pull an identifiable pass defender into the front and to give the blockers something to work with to keep the center off the island. It takes the sixth, just as it takes him to deal with a blitz.
Which is a better sixth [blocker, a tight-end or a runningback]? A TE is more of a threat with the delayed pass that makes the pass defender on him stay at bay while the TE blocks the rusher. I think a TE is the better.
Anyway, this is not so black and white, RB versus TE. It's all shades: imagine lining up with a FB in the I. Now the FB cheats over; he lines up in a two-point stance, behind the guard at 4 yards. Now behind the tackle at 3 yards. Now he splits the tackle with his inside leg, at about 2 yards. What is he? A FB or an H-back? He can BOB the linebacker, no? He can still kick out for power, release into the flat, maybe even take a handoff if he comes inside enough. Now he steps over maybe another foot, etc. Now suddenly he's a tight-end/h-back all the way? And all those advantages are lost?
Also don't confuse personnel with position. You can put anyone you want there. I don't see why your RB is some invaluable pass blocker, despite the fact that he has to work on carrying the ball, catching the ball, and blocking in the run game, while the TE is just helpless?
Nothing wrong in HS in having a division of labor for these positions. On most teams I've been around, the TEs spend more time practicing with the OL than they do the receivers. If you want a glorified slot guy, then sub a receiver in and go from there. Or use a FB type (if you're got one).
Bottom line: it's an exceptionally useful thing, and don't be straitjacketed by black and white conceptions. The advantage of the four wide spread was a division of labor thing -- you could put four wides out there and get mismatches against the other team's base personnel, and often get them out of their base looks. You might not have a good TE or fb, so you didn't put one out there; you looked for advantages elsewhere. Nowadays with everyone being spread, is that really the case that just going four wide gives you all these mismatches? I'm not so sure; using a TE -- or alternating between TEs, FBs, and slot receivers -- seems to me the better move.
I consider my base offense to be 3 WR, 1 QB, 1 RB, and then a hybrid H-back position. That H-back position can be a true slot receiver (routes and jet sweeps), a FB, a true TE/H-back (either as a blocker or hybrid guy, though those are quite rare), or even just a 2nd RB. Depends on the guys you have, what you're trying to accomplish, and also your depth (can do a lot of great things if you have a couple of kids who fit the above descriptions and then just sub them in and out to give different looks).
But unquestionably, TE is maybe my favorite position. True, it's not always easy to find a good one, but it helps a lot. (And the two best formations in football might be trips closed and a TE/wing set, with a TE and a wing player to one side, and either a split end and flanker or a twins look).
Finally, one of the concerns was that a tight-end is in poor position to pass protect:
To me, a RB who starts out deeper in the backfield is in much better position to pick up blitzers, chip DEs, or even take a DE 1-on-1. . . . Now, compare that to a TE, who is always on the end of the line and is really only in position to pick up somebody coming off the edge. He also has far less time and room for error in diagnosing a blitz or stunt and getting his body where he needs to be.
I disagree; it is best not to overthink this. One, if you're having that many problems you can always back the TE up to be an H-back so he can see more. Second, you can make a very simple call ("solid") if the DE lines up on or outside the TE and the LB lines up inside. If both the DE and LB come (and don't twist) the tackle takes the LB and the TE takes the DE; if the LB doesn't rush then the TE passes the DE off to the tackle before releasing. You do get into the matchup issues, but it's not so ridiculous like he can't get there or will just whiff. It's just a simple area principle.
I am frequently asked why I don't more often discuss NFL offenses. Haven't many of these college gurus been chewed up by the NFL? Didn't the NFL "prove" that the run & shoot can't work? Isn't the NFL football's highest level, and doesn't it therefore have the most money and resources, the best people, and shouldn't the result then be that NFL football is the most strategically interesting?
Yes and no. There's several reasons why I devote less space here to what NFL teams do than for college teams. Far and away the most significant reason though, is that, somewhat counterintuitively, NFL offenses are surprisingly bland and homogenized. Not entirely, but as a rule of thumb, 80% of what NFL teams do on offense (or defense, really too) is extremely straightforward to the point where every team runs the same stuff. And the list is not that long. In an appendix at the bottom, I have cataloged basically the entire set. Most notably, the whole NFL's entire run game amounts to about four or five plays: the inside zone (also known as the "tight zone"), the outside zone (also known as the "stretch play" or the "wide zone"), power, counter, and some kind of draw, particularly the lead draw. No matter what cosmetic deceptions you see when you watch an NFL game (and remember, these cosmetics are supposed to be good enough to fool the opposing coaches who have studied film all week), you're seeing the same plays over, and over, and over again. There is some admitted monotony to this. Indeed, after today, having sketched out a great deal of this 80% of the NFL's offense, there won't be much need for me to come back to what a specific NFL teams do.
But what of all those stories of Jon Gruden or Andy Reid getting only 45 minutes of sleep a night (and of course sleeping in their offices), and all the film study, 500 page NFL playbooks, and lengthy gameplans buttressed by exhaustive statistical analyses. This is the other 20%, which often is interesting. But it is interesting in a very specific way -- within the framework of the basic, repetitive concepts that compose the other 80%. NFL coaches are understandably obsessed with "matchups," a word favored by every football talking head. The coaches spend an incredible amount of time focused on how to get this receiver to go against that safety, this blitzing linebacker against that tight-end, or this pulling tackle against that defensive end. It's an evolving, repetitive, circular, intensive battle.
Yet is of limited ongoing or generalizable significance. Let's say an NFL coach wants to run the counter trey, which is a run play where one lineman pulls and traps (i.e. blocks from the inside out), and another blocker (either lineman or tight-end) leads (i.e. goes up into the crease and looks to hit a linebacker). He might alter the assignments, or use a particular motion or shift or formation, because he wants the kick-out block to go against a certain guy and the lead against another. And, if successful, you, as spectator, probably won't notice what he did: the coach wasn't looking for a pancake block, just "success," which might be as simple as the blocker's getting in the way enough that the runner could get four yards. This "matchup" isn't always as dramatic as you might think. This does not demean its importance, but, from my perspective, does not always lend itself to lengthy, repeated examples.
Moreover, getting into this minutiae requires a great deal of digging and backstory. What have these teams done in the past? Who is injured this week? What is the history between the opposing coaches? I have discussed some of this type of thing before, for example, here. But again, this great complexity ironically flows from a rather bland and homogenous set. The NFL appears populated by eternal, diligent tinkerers rather than broad thinkers.
Television's role
There's a final reason, however, that I don't routinely get into detail with NFL offenses: I'm not convinced the NFL wants anyone to. Whether a marketing decision or one to placate paranoid franchises --word is guys like Mangini are exceptionally controlling of the flow of info, including requiring people to burn and destroy film or handouts -- NFL films does not actually make this footage available, and most of what it shows are such extreme close-ups that it is impenetrable from a strategy perspective. Part of the theory is undoubtedly the desire to overcome the fact that it is marketing a sport where all the players wear masks, something the NBA and golf and most other sports don't have to deal with.
Unfortunately, the result is that it's impossible to get a sense of what is going on during a play: the quarterback releases the ball, the ball floats magically in the air, and the receiver appears like an apparition out of nowhere to catch it. And the practical questions remain. What coverage were they in? What route did the receiver run? What complementary routes did the other receiver run? Who rushed the quarterback? Who picked up those rushers? It's impossible to tell. Take the clip below of the 49ers's dramatic, waning minutes victory over the Bengals in Super Bowl XXIII.
There's a couple of times where you can get a sense of a route or two, but there's not one play where I could (a) diagram the play in its entirety, i.e. all the receivers, or (b) more importantly, tell you what exactly the defense was doing, particularly the secondary. On the big pass to Jerry Rice over the middle, it's clear he ran a dig route, but it's not clear why he was so open. And then the voice-over goes so far as to tell you the actual name of the game winning touchdown play, yet could you tell me what any of the receivers besides John Taylor did on the play? Wouldn't the coverage on Jerry Rice, who would up MVP of the game, have been relevant as to why Taylor was so open? (Both Bill Walsh and Joe Montana later diagrammed the play in their books; there was actually a problem with the playcall as meshing with the formation.)
Fine, that's NFL Films. But what about watching the game on television? Yes, you get some replays, but generally it is not much better. You're lucky if you see the linebackers. Homer Smith once gave advice to people who watch football on television: Don't watch the ball, watch the defense -- you'll never miss where the ball winds up going. Yet he admits that with modern angles this advice is often impracticable. Ironically, too, the NFL, with more money (and likely its intent to market personalities) affixes its camera angles tighter than do college broadcasts My sense is that many college games can only afford a couple of cameras, so they pick a couple that can get a flavor for more of the field. The NFL instead overdoes it.
Why so simple?
That 80% of every NFL teams' offense consists of the same bunch of plays run over and over, combined with the inadequate broadcast techniques that robs the viewer of the ability to decipher the minute game-within-a-game adjustments that are going on, helps explain why it is not always worth it for me to discuss with great specificity what each NFL team does. But that still doesn't answer why NFL offenses are like this. (Defenses have the same issue of 80/20 blandness, though they will sometimes give incredibly exotic looks solely due to the freakish nature of some of the players. NFL cornerbacks can constantly play "press-bail" -- meaning they can show bump and run and yet be able to "bail" and play deep if necessary -- because they are so athletic, and I've seen guys like Ravens safety Ed Reed do miraculous things like line up directly on the line of scrimmage over a tight-end and then at the snap retreat and play deep half-field safety on the opposite side of the field. Other than the kind of stuff that you can only do if you've won the DNA lottery, NFL defenses all tend to be the same as well.)
Theories abound to explain the phenomena. Ones often trotted out: NFL coaches are closed minded; they don't understand the option/spread/wishbone/etc; the speed of the game is much greater than it is college; it's all some sort of conspiracy; and, finally, we have it all backwards, and this NFL-homogenity is actually somehow better, we're just missing it.
These can be dealt with in short order. The NFL has the most money and pressure at stake, and coaches have little job security. There is no reason for them to be so closed minded. And they certainly do understand the option. Many have coached at other levels before, and, though they might not be experts, it doesn't take long to explain how the option and the spread work and why they have been effective. The conspiracy stuff is bunk, and I think it can't be argued that the NFL is not homogeneous or monotonous, and, in theory at least, more diversity would be better, no? Most of the NFL offense defenders argue that the players make it worthwhile to do this, or the passing game is what makes it all necessary, or there is some hidden meaning we're all missing. (This argument is more common than might be initially guessed, and usually takes the following form: "The NFL is better because all that stuff is just a bunch of gimmicks," with "gimmick" being the derogative catch-all term for anything that breaks out of the 80% mold delineated in full below. As described below, one unfortunate plank of this argument is the reliance on the idea of "ideal" football.)
The speed argument is more difficult to discard, though I think for now we can ignore it. On the one hand, the idea that the defense is faster suddenly dooms all these schemes common to college seems bizarre considering that the offensive guys are (or should be?) faster too. Thus, relatively, there is no speed advantage. On the other hand, if NFL players are all both bigger and faster, then in practical terms the field itself has shrunk, even if the players are relatively the same. Yet on the other, other, hand, with more straight ahead speed and better quarterbacking, teams can better stretch the field vertically. On the whole, unless someone wants to do some real studies, I find this rather inconclusive.
There are three arguments that I think do help explain the NFL 80/20 blandness. Note however that not included in this list is the meme popular among the NFL itself (and those announcers!) that what they do is simply "better." The problem with this idea is that "better" begs too many questions: Better than what? Better how? Better as a professional offense with professional players, or better for high school players too? What is better considering that there is time to integrate any concept you want into your playbook? Isn't the "better" thing then just the more time and resources you have? So I leave this aside.
The three are:
Coaching incest. The NFL fraternity is too incestuous, and thus they don't get out of their comfort zone enough and don't seriously engage with what is going on elsewhere.
Lack of incentive to experiment.Related to above, but the idea is that, post free-agency, there is little reason for NFL coaches to "think outside the box," and when they do and fail, they will be ridiculed and fired. For example, Marv Levy famously went to the Wing-T offense with the Kansas City Chiefs in the late 70s and early 80s, and was promptly fired.)
The quarterback obsession. The money and necessity involved with NFL quarterbacks has so come to dominate the thinking and strategy behind the sport that it hampers both experimentation but literally what they have time to do. If you ask an NFL coach what he spends his time on, or why they don't use more run plays, and he will likely tell you that they spend all their time on pass protection and protection schemes, and this cuts down on what else they can do.
I think all three of those ideas have some merit. The incest idea sounds a little odd, but then you remember that the vaunted "Wildcat" offense was brought to the NFL by David Lee, former quarterbacks coach at Arkansas.
The second I think is underrated but important. Lost in the debate about who is more innovative, the NFL or college or high schools, is their institutional capacities. It doesn't surprise me that the most sophisticated zone blocking techniques or pass protection schemes -- or even five or seven-step drop pass patterns -- are usually developed in the NFL. The margins are quite thin there because the personnel is so good and every team has a salary cap. This stuff is their bread and butter, and they will constantly tinker with it.
But what incentive does an NFL team have to just say "screw it, I'm going to do something weird." Very little. Even the moribund Detroit Lions don't really have this need; the Miami Dolphins went from worst-to-playoffs, though with a little help by being different. Different helps but we're not talking about extremes.
In college or high school, however, you have teams that are completely downtrodden, as in winless in years downtrodden. There is no reason in these scenarios not to experiment. Of course, everyone knows that Rich Rodriguez's "zone read" offense was born at Glenville State where he said his entire goal was "just to get a first down." There are a lot of really bad Division I programs, but even more bad or obscure small colleges, and thousands more high schools. Indeed, for all the talk of the "Wildcat" as a "college thing," it really was a high school thing. Gus Malzahn ran some similar stuff while a high school coach, and insofar as Houston Nutt and others had their input the shotgun jet-sweep offense which the Wildcat is but one strand of is something that has exploded at high school level but hasn't really made its way to major college football. NFL coaches would do well to keep their eye on the lower levels to see what broad, new, general ideas spring forth. (A final X factor is the issue of practice time: Major D-1 colleges have just about the least practice time at any level, and high schools of course have to spend so much time teaching fundamentals that strategy is secondary. As a result there is what I call variation by hedgehog, meaning that you get variety by having a bunch of teams focus on one or two things they do really well, compared with the NFL where teams try to do a bit of everything.)
Finally, this third issue cannot be discounted. Bruce Arians, now offensive coordinator for the Pittsburgh Steelers and former quarterback coach for the Indianapolis Colts, once did a bit on defeating the zone-blitz. His basic thought was about protecting the passer: the importance of planning for the zone-blitz and protecting the quarterback at all costs. Then, at the end he wrote: "P.S. If your quarterback doesn't make $48 million then don't forget the lead option."
Coming from an NFL guy, that's damn near heresy. Of course the quarterback he was referring to was Peyton Manning (though I haven't seen Roethlisberger run any option either), but here's the thought, expanded out. Yes, quarterbacks are incredibly important, and must be protected. You have to spend a lot of time focusing on this protection, getting it right, and calibrating your matchups on top of it all when you have freaks of nature as pass rushers. (I wrote a lengthy article about pass protection here.) That's fine, do what you have to do to protect those guys.
But what Arians hinted at is something a lot of coaches believe: instead of focusing all your energy on trying to scheme your way out of all that crazy, myriad blitzing from everywhere that causes you to drop everything week to week and focus solely on that to the detriment of the run game, then why not focus on what might deter that kind of blitzing in the first place? Like option, or certain spread sets, or other things that college teams do a pretty solid job of right now. Sometimes, rather than bang your head against the wall, there's a better way.
Now this gets into the question about letting some team hit your quarterback, and involves other questions beyond the scope of this article. No one thinks running the option with Manning or Brady is a good idea, and their passing skills are so good that it probably wouldn't be worth it anyway. But is great passing ability exclusive of great running ability? And if it is not, then does running the option significantly increase the risk of injury? How much worse can it be than David Carr being sacked countless times in a season, mostly by being hit from the blindside mid-throwing motion? I'd probably rather be hit while running the ball than like that.
The wildcat and beyond
This is where the wildcat stuff becomes intriguing. The theme for this offseason seems to be that every team is studying the wildcat or looking to install it. There's strategic reasons for this and there's practical ones.
The strategic reason is that the arithmetic doesn't lie: When you run the ball and your quarterback stands there just watching the play, his defensive counterpart can assault the runner. And even if his counterpart holds back, the runner's counterpart remains unblocked; you win games by getting the defense to commit two players to one of yours and thus gain an advantage. The wildcat -- as with the triple option or shotgun spread offense where the quarterback is a run threat -- does this. That's why I predicted back in September 2008 that the wildcat would not be "gone within a week" as several commentators so confidently explained. Indeed, it appears to be gaining momentum.
The second reason is practical. The colleges the NFL drafts from are producing these kinds of multi-skilled players, and NFL teams ought to be able to employ some of them in these schemes without having to risk their $48 million quarterbacks as the bait. E.g., Pat White. That's why this concept has potential for growth, and NFL coaches seem to embrace it now. (How bizarre though that they seem to be embracing this one rather specific branch off what is a much wider and older tree of single-wing/spread/option football. Maybe its apparent newness allows them plausible deniability about having ignored what has been put to good use for decades.)
I will have a future post delineating how I think the wildcat will be used and expanded upon this fall. Unfortunately, I don't see the storyline being quite so rosy as the NFL finally breaking down and going all out with Eric Crouch types at quarterback. I can safely predict that some of the teams that are discussing their wildcat will be completely inept with it: they will do things like going five-wide with their quarterback split out, their runningback or wideout alone in the backfield, call for no motion or faking, and then expect him to plunge into the line for some kind of great effect. That team, its coaches and its fans, will declare the Wildcat a bust. Some other team, maybe the Dolphins again, will expand the package and see success with it. But then what? The worst case -- though possibly the most likely -- will be this:
The offense will fade from prominence, and will be relegated to NFL Films productions about the "WACKY WILDCAT" days of yore, where they will show somebody running free downfield while they speed up the footage and play Benny Hill music. Then they will show a clip of someone stuffing a particular play, and the voice-over will announce that the Wildcat, like all other gimmicks, was figured out and defeated. The NFL types will nevertheless congratulate themselves for having discovered it in the first place. Someone will be called on air to talk about how it was a travesty of the game, in some bizarre platonic ideal sense.
But there is a slight counter narrative. One is that the wildcat, as some kind of hype-machine and maybe even explicit look will die down, but the concepts will infiltrate the NFL and it will finally, and slowly, co-opt ideas that have been successful in every level of football elsewhere. Some will still deride the flashes as gimmicky, but seeing as that most didn't understand it to begin with, most probably won't even notice. Take a look at the clip below: the Ravens, using Ohio State quarterback Troy Smith ran the zone-read, and the highlight guys began a small war on what to call it. (Smith also takes a rather bizarre inside angle with his run.)
Conclusion
Time will tell where all this goes. For now, however, I expect the NFL Offense to remain as indicated, with just a flew flashes of the wildcat and other similar elements. But maybe with more, and cheaper, players who can execute these schemes the NFL will be forced to adapt them to its own ends. And maybe that will even help protect its quarterbacks.
APPENDIX - The NFL Offense
Formations may differ, as will motions and a few little quirks, but basically this is what every single NFL team does. They might have a wrinkle or two per week; they might adjust the formations so they get their Pro-Bowl receiver running the route they want; they might run each play from everything from a three tight-end set to a spread formation; but it is all there. It is a partial sketch below. There are some I have diagrams, and with others I have links to old articles either instead of or to supplement the diagrams.
(1) Run game
- Inside Zone, a.k.a. "tight zone"
- Outside zone, a.k.a. "wide zone" or "stretch" (either regular blocking (shown below, diagram courtesy of Trojan Football Analysis) or "pin and pull")
- Shallow series (for more on the drag and drive series, see here, and for a comprehensive look at the shallow stuff Mike Martz ran with the Rams, see here)
- Seam and square-in/other downfield passes like double-post
(4) Movement passes
- Bootleg. Everybody runs the same bootleg passes, one with the fullback faking the counter and running to the opposite flat, and the other the basic one with one guy to the flat after a count as a blocker and another dragging behind him.
(5) Screens
- Slow screen to RB and TE. Also will use double-screens or read-screens with the slow screen combined with either a sail or drag type route
[Ed. Note: This is Part 2 of Manny Matsakis's presentation of his "Triple Shoot" offense. Check out the tripleshoot website here.]
Part 2 - Run Game and Play passes
The general makeup of the offense includes a run game, play passes, drop-back passing attack and exotics. The following is an overview of each area of the offense:
Run Game
This aspect of the offense is broken up into the Belly series, Trap series and Dive series. Our linemen work daily on their zone, veer, trap and double team blocks in order to maximize our consistency in rushing the ball.
The primary series of the offense is the Belly series, which is influenced by triple option (Hambone) and zone blocking. This was also complimented by a backfield action that I was able to glean from “Dutch” Meyers book, Spread Formation Football (albeit, he did this out of the shotgun) and some basic Wing-T concepts. The Belly series consists of the Pop Out (I have heard it also called the Jet or Fly Sweep) and the following dive plays, Veer and Zone as well as the change-up plays of the Option and Reverse. The key in executing each of these aspects of the Belly series is in the actual “ride” of the motion receiver by the QB and the subsequent fake or hand-off to the Superback, in order to draw attention to the potential Pop Out around the edge or the dive play to the back. Ideally, our Pop Out and dive plays will look the same for the first 3 steps and then become the actual play called prior to the snap of the ball. The change-up plays of Option and Reverse are designed to take advantage of fast flowing linebackers and defensive line slants.
Pop Out
Zone
Veer
Option
Reverse
Play Passes
The key to the play pass is that for the first three steps of the run series associated with it, the backfield and blocking must stay consistent (Bill Walsh). I know we are coming along when we stop the video at this point and we are not be able to tell if it is a run or a pass. Play Passes are called when the secondary is rolling or linebackers are so keyed-in to the run series that they disregard the potential of a pass over the top.
Our base play passes are executed off of our top run series, the Belly series. We practice two primary play passes, one to the front side (Wheel) and one to the backside (Switch). Regarding play pass protection, we put the Superback on the front side linebacker as we fake the Pop Out play and all the other linemen are aggressive in their execution of selling the run play.
Even Wheel
The Wheel is run out of our Even (balanced) formation and this play is good versus Nickel or Dime coverage. The play begins with the inside receiver coming in motion, the QB will then ride the receiver on a Pop Out fake as he turns to the oncoming receiver. The action will continue with a fake to the Superback. The QB will then set up just outside the play-side Guard and throw the Wheel combination. The QB will look to throw the ball to the Post first, then to the Wheel up the boundary. Often times the Wheel is thrown to the back shoulder of the receiver.
Receivers will take their first 3 steps (as if stalk blocking) and then break into their routes. The outside play-side receiver will break on a Post (5th Step) while the inside receiver will run through the breakpoint of the Post route.
Load Switch
The Switch route is run out of one of our trips formations (Rip or Load) and this play is also good versus Nickel or Dime coverage. The play begins with the number 3 receiver backside coming in motion for the Pop Out fake. The QB will simulate the same action as he did in Wheel. This time he will look backside to the Stretch route, which is running up inside the backside hash mark.
The two backside receivers will run the Switch combination on the backside in the following manner. The outside receiver backside will come first and get inside the hash mark at a point 7 yards up field while the number 2 receiver will run through the point where the outside receiver crossed his face and he will continue up the sideline. The outside receiver is responsible to read the deep zone defender over him. If that man is a Cover 3 safety, that defender may run downhill to tackle the Pop Out and if he does that, the receiver will continue on a thin post. If he stays high over the top, then the receiver will break his route flat at a depth of 12 yards to get open underneath the free safety. The Cover 2 conversion is predicated on the action of the backside safety. If he rolls to Cover 3, then the receiver will apply his Cover 3 rules. If he stays on the hash mark, the receiver will break it flat at 12 yards.
The QB will look to the backside Stretch route adjustment first and then to the route up the boundary. The boundary route is often times a back shoulder throw.
[Ed. Note. For more on the "switch" concept, see here.]
Play passes are often adjusted as we get through the season to take advantage of how defenses are geared up to slow down our Belly series.
Tomorrow, an overview of the dropback passing game.
[Ed. Note: For the next four days regular -- or irregular! -- blogging will be suspended and in its place is an overview of Manny Matsakis's creation, the "Triple Shoot." The offense is a hybrid combination of a fly sweep offense and the run and shoot. Check out the triple shoot website. Again, the words below are Manny's, as he has been kind enough to write this out. Enjoy.]
Part 1 - Historical Perspective
It all started with a fascination of the 3 distinctly different offenses the Wing-T, Run & Shoot and the Georgia Southern Hambone. From there it evolved with specific influence and personal contact with the following coaches, Ben Griffith (Inventor of the Hambone), Glenn “Tiger” Ellison, Darrell “Mouse” Davis and Bill Walsh. As an additional note, Leo “Dutch” Meyer’s book, Spread Formation Football gave me an idea on how to create an explosive rushing attack (albeit, it was not the purpose of his book). Having started American Football QuarterlyÆ in 1993, while waiting to take a job at Kansas State University, gave me access to all of the aforementioned individuals, except coach Meyer.
In the early 1990’s, I was working on my Ph.D. and while finishing my coursework I began a research project, which evolved into the Triple Shoot Offense. The title of the dissertation project was, “The History and Evolution of the Run & Shoot Offense in American Football.”
Development of the Offense
Researching the state of football and developing axioms and creating postulates based on those axioms created this offense. My initial axioms of the game were as follows:
1. The game of football has freedoms, purposes and barriers that give spread formation attacks a distinct advantage.
2. A systems approach to football has the greatest potential for success over a period of time.
3. When players are more knowledgeable about their system than the opponent is theirs they have the greatest potential for success.
4. A balanced approach to offensive strategy has the greatest potential for success over a period of time.
5. A system that appears complex, yet is simple to execute will stand the test of time.
These following postulates were the results of analyzing the previous axioms:
1. Spreading the field with offensive personnel creates mis-matches and distinct angles to attack the defense.
2. Utilizing a no-huddle attack enables an offense to control the clock and give the players a better understanding of the defense they are attacking.
3. A 2-point stance by offensive linemen gives them better recognition and a lower “center of gravity” at the point of attack.
4. A protection based on the principle of “firm: front-side & soft: backside” enables an offense to take advantage of any defensive front by keeping them off balance.
5. Run blocking schemes that combine Veer, Zone and Trap blocking enables an offense to run the ball versus any defensive front.
6. Pass schemes that adjust routes based on coverage on the run will open up holes in the secondary.
7. Quarterback decisions based on looks & reads give the offense the ability to release the ball anywhere from 1 to 5 steps. This will minimize the amount of time necessary for pass protection.
Triple Shoot Offense Defined
The Triple Shoot Offense is a systems oriented, no-huddle, four receiver, one back attack that is balanced in its ability to run or pass the ball at any time during a game. It is predicated on spreading the field and attacking a pre-ordered defense with blocking and route adjustments after the play begins.
Ordering Up The Defense
The concept of “ordering up the defense” is one that I learned from “Tiger” Ellison. His concept was to place a label on each defensive man (numbering), and from that to designate a specific defender that would tell his players what to do, either by the place he lined up before the ball was snapped or by his movement after the snap.
The Triple Shoot Offense took that information and decided to look at defensive alignments based on the way they matched up to a 4 receiver, one-back formation and designated defenses as either Nickel, Dime, Blitz or they were considered unsound. Nickel looks are based on six men in the box with one free safety, Dime looks have five men in the box with two safeties and Blitz is recognized when there are seven defenders in the box and no safety over the top. Anything else is an unsound defense that we hope a team is willing to attempt.
In order to keep defenses in these alignments we utilize a variety of concepts, from widening our inside receivers to calling specific plays that put a bind on any defender that tries to play both the front and the coverage. When we get to the point where we can do this, the offense is at its most optimum in production.
Malcolm Gladwell's new article in the New Yorker is called "How David Beats Goliath: When underdogs break the rules." It's worth reading, but the main narrative is about a twelve-year old girls team that uses the full-court press to beat opponents. Ethical issues aside, a running theme here is the use of risky strategies that underdogs can use to beat teams that overmatch them. Sound familiar? I made the same argument recently, though in slightly more (though only slightly) technical terms: See Conservative and risky football strategies (and kurtosis).
Is "spreading" always a good idea? Maybe not, according to Coach Smith:
Misconception #31
[Misconception:] Relatively weaker offensive players have a better chance in a passing attack from spread formations.
Relatively weaker linemen have a better chance passing quick from the shotgun - yes. If you have good passing and receiving, a disparity in the line can be overcome.
However, if the defense has one man who can play one spread receiver man-for-man all over the field, the wide spreading of that receiver can be disastrous. Weaker receivers should stay within six yards of one another and cross. Two weaker receivers can make three stronger defenders cover them.
A weaker lineman must not be left alone on a stronger defender in front of the spot from which the QB throws. No lineman should be left alone in this situation.
A weaker back should not have to block a stronger lineman.
Now, what really enables the weaker to go against the stronger is faking - receiver faking, ball faking, all kinds of faking.
No - passing and spreading is not, alone, a better way for weaker players to play.
I've long been a proponent of more rigorous analysis of football, and in particular its associated probabilities. But -- and this is why I am posting this article here -- football is simply so complex that there are limits to our current understanding. With baseball and the "sabermetric" movement, there are attainable gains: the game can be modeled largely as batter versus pitcher, and, within this dynamic, there is only so much change and a finite number of extra variables to control.
With football, however, you have twenty-two players, a variety of formations, receivers, combination blocks, movements, and areas to defend. The game itself follows a dizzying path to completion, with score changes, possessions, downs, field positions, yards to first down, and so on. It's not impossible to model, and there is much we can and have learned, but with football -- as with Wall Street -- what appears certain in your models and statistics may not tell the full story.
"Statistics are like bikinis. What they reveal is suggestive, but what they conceal is vital." - Aaron Levenstein
And, I am sorry to say, that when I read this article I did not think of the excellent work being done that is very useful to coaches and real practitioners, but instead of one group in particular: Football Outsiders. Now, I don't want to be too harsh. They do some great, interesting work, they have illuminated a number of subjects, and, if nothing else, the sheer breadth of what they have addressed will pave the way for more sophisticated analysis. And maybe criticism is unfair, as much of their current stuff is not focused on real football or what might bring real knowledge to the game, but instead on aiding the fantasy football player.
This is understandable, since fantasy football provides ready benchmarks and fantasy footballers are a much broader and more accessible audience than are football coaches. But if we want to be honest about what we're doing, then, to me, we ought to be honest that many of these statistics are for fans and do not actually help anyone (coaches, players, GMs) make decisions.
Football Outsiders' big stat is called DVOA, or Defense-adjusted Value Over Average. It's a nice stat, and certainly it is an improvement over just trying to compare Jimmy and Joe based on their total yards or yards per carry or whatever else. But it's a bit of a fan's statistic, and, further, there's a tendency to adjust it and use it in a way that reinforces what we already know. If DVOA doesn't tell us that Tom Brady and Peyton Manning are the best quarterbacks, then it gets revised until it does, or is rejected until a different measure tells us this unassailable truth. Same with teams: DVOA helpfully tells us that the 2007 Patriots, 1999 Rams, and 1996 Packers were all very good. And, all too often, as Brian of Advanced NFL stats has observed, Football Outsiders far too often "use[s] statistics like a drunkard uses a light post, for support rather than illumination." (Quoting Mark Twain). (One exception: Mike Tanier, though at times his analysis is a bit shaky, is clearly coming into his own and the fact that he has access to NFL film and his practice and diligence is starting to show through.)
Don't get me wrong, I adore statistics and, even more than stats, I think probabilities are the key to understanding almost everything about the world around us. I don't like dealing in absolutes. (Though some seem to vigorously disagree with me when I say that.) If I have to choose between what can only be referred to as the neaderthal view:
"We don't worry about numbers here. Statistics are for losers. I'm not a stat guy. I'm not interested in them, because you can do anything you want with numbers, you can manipulate them, and work around with them. Look at all the financial [problems] we're having in Wall Street right now. That's all those guys lying and playing with numbers. And now all of us are suffering. So I don't believe in numbers, because any crook can play with numbers....It angers me. You know? That's the whole thing, people play with numbers."
- Washington Redskins defensive coordinator Greg Blache
And what I consider the modern view:
"They say statistics are for losers, but losers are usually the ones thinking that. Statistics are great. Our whole game plan is based off statistics. Our management of the game is based off statistics. Our recruiting is based off statistics. Everything we do is analyzed. Is that the bottom line? No. You can't analyze the heart of Tim Tebow."
- Urban Meyer
Then clearly put me in the modern camp. So I really don't mean to denigrate the work of Football Outsiders or anyone else doing progressive work -- we certainly need more of it. Coach Blanche brings up the financial crisis, but it's not like -- even there, where the problems have been widespread -- that numbers and stats can just be dismissed out of hand. They are still useful, but you embrace the limitations: even if your statistics are imperfect, they are often better than nothing, and you must simply recognize and be aware of where the pratfalls are in how they might aid or hinder your decisionmaking. This was lost on the finance world recently, but it applies equally to football decisionmaking.
And, because I also consider myself something of a pragmatist, I nevertheless ask of those doing this work is the same question I would ask of any other idea (because the value of football statistics is simply another permutation of an idea about the value of statistics):
Pragmatism asks its usual question. "Grant an idea or belief to be true," it says, "what concrete difference will its being true make in anyone's actual life? How will the truth be realized? What experiences will be different from those which would obtain if the belief were false? What, in short, is the truth's cash-value in experiential terms?"
- William James, Pragmatism (1907).
So to me, there's a grand opportunity for these statisticians to change the way decisions are made and overall just improve the game -- to make a "concrete difference." Some statisticians have done this, most notably David Romer. His work is so far thorough, practical, and challenging.
I'm not a true statistician or econometrician. And, as I said above, one of the difficulties with doing real, relevant football statistics is that the game is quite complex, and one needs to understand it to model it (and those who understand usually can't model, and those who can model usually don't understand). One of my goals with this site is to try to help bridge this gap.
The story that I have to tell is marked all the way through by a persistent tension between those who assert that the best decisions are based on quantification and numbers, determined by the patterns of the past, and those who base their decisions on more subjective degrees of belief about the uncertain future. This is a controversy that has never been resolved.
And it will remain controversial -- in finance as well as football -- because the future will be paved by numbers and judgment, marching, somewhat awkwardly, hand in hand.
Peyton Manning just won Associated Press MVP of the NFL for the third time, and -- love him or hate him -- he's pretty decent at that whole throwing the ball thing. And this year he has done it without a lot of help, as he and offensive coordinator Tom Moore have had to put together their own particular brand of sorcery to generate yards, points, and wins. And they've done it.
In this article I want to discuss one of the Colts' favorite pass plays of the last several years, which they run as much as any other: the two-man levels concept.
Breakdown
Both Peyton and Tom Moore have both stated that their favorite pass route is one known in many coaching circles as "levels." (The Colts have their own unique lingo, but "levels" gives you the gist.) Most other pro teams use it too, including the Patriots, but no one does it as well or as often as the Colts. At the college level, Oklahoma State (Mike Gundy and Gunter Brewer) and Arkansas (Bobby Petrino) both use this concept with some regularity. And June Jones has used a three-man version of levels for some years at Hawai'i and now SMU.
The concept is simple: the outside receiver runs a five-yard in route, and the slot receiver or tight-end runs a ten-to-twelve yard square-in (with a slight outside release). On the backside, the Colts have the outside guy run a take-off (or sometimes a comeback at eighteen yards) and the backside slot or tight-end runs a "divide" or seam-read. As explained previously, the divide route involves a read by the receiver: against single-high defenses like Cover 3 (also known as middle of the field closed), the receiver keeps it up the hashmark in the open void in the seam; against middle of the field open defenses (like Cover 2), he will break on a post route into the open void in the middle.
The quarterback begins by "peeking" or getting an "alert" read of the divide route. If that route comes open or the safeties get out of position, the quarterback throws the ball on rhythm at the end of his drop for a big-play. If it is not open, he goes into his normal 1-2-3 progression.
Unlike most pass concepts which are read deep to short, this play is read short-to-deep. (Though with Peyton Manning -- who likely has an excellent idea of where he's going with the ball on every play -- the difference between "coverage reads" and "progression reads" is blurry.) But the philosophy of the play is to throw the five-yard in route whenever it comes open; they want to treat it like stealing yards and to get the ball into a playmaker. Traditionally this was Marvin Harrison, but more recently you'll see Reggie Wayne run this route play after play.
Broadly, if the defense comes up for the quick in route, the quarterback looks for the square-in behind him. In other words, this is a two-man high-low or vertical stretch concept, which puts the underneath defenders in a bind with a guy in front of and behind them.
More specifically, the play is designed to attack Cover 2. One of the most common routes against Cover 2 is the smash, which is a great route against that coverage. In that play, the outside receiver runs a five yard hitch, and the inside guy runs a corner route at twelve: this puts the cornerback in Cover 2 (who is responsible for the flat) in a high-low bind. Smash has been a go-to play for years, but it has become so common that safeties and inside defenders have learned to overplay the route.
Enter two-man levels. If we lay the smash and levels concepts on top of each other, we see that as the play develops the defense will not be able to tell the difference between them Finally, at the last minute the receivers break unexpectedly:
So the first thing you get with these two plays is the advantage of destroying pattern reading by making your routes look alike. But let's look at who the play is designed to attack in Cover 2: the outside linebacker/nickel back over the slot (coaches just refer to him as "#2"). In smash, the play is designed to attack the corner, so if he is going to get help it is likely to come from this inside defender.
In the diagram below we can see how that player is affected: if he stays home to attack that quick in, the square-in comes open in the void behind him. If he drops back to follow the slot man who releases vertically (which is often what he is taught by guys like Bob Stoops to deal with the smash) then the quick five-yard in should be open.
The last thing is if the middle linebacker (the middle underneath zone defender in a true Cover 2) flows over to take away either the square-in or the quick-in, then the quarterback will drop it off to the runningback underneath.
Now, the other way this play works well is against man. In that case, the outside receiver will try to run his route underneath the slot man such that he will get a rub (not a pick of course, those are illegal and no self-respecting offense would ever use them . . . ) and should come open right in the quarterback's vision.
Below is a diagram of how the Packers have used the play from trips. They use it a bit more as an inside hitting route. Both of the outside guys in trips run five yard in routes, and the inside guy runs his square-in at 10-12.
And below is video of the Packers running their version of levels.
Conclusion
So there you have it: the two-man levels with backside verticals. As with all pass plays, its efficacy is mostly determined by how well the team can pass protect. That said, it is a nice quick-pass, and even against zone-blitzes with three-deep and three underneath defenders the offense can usually find a quick void. It's a great play, but Peyton's continued success will likely hinge on whether his team can keep protecting him.
I've been writing a lot about Paul Johnson's offense recently. But sometimes, it's best to get it from the horse's mouth. (Note: It's not the wing-t, and it's not just the triple option. And, although close to the wishbone, it has evolved from it. That's why it is called the flexbone: the run & shoot doubleslot formation with some 'shoot passing concepts, and lots of option, though with plenty of other wrinkles sprinkled in too.)
UPDATE: Looks like LSU's coaches saw this video and have been reading my site. They fared far better than Georgia and the ACC.
I originally wrote this as part of my lengthy (lengthy!) piece on the A-11 offense, but I think it probably got buried. This is something that I depart from many football coaches and purists about. Despite the fact that I have beef with the A-11 offense, one of those contentions is unequivocally not that it is not real football. That's a bogus reason. I have stated many times that football is just a game, and all its rules are arbitrary. I call those who believe otherwise the Platonic Idealists. Below is a reprint of what I previously stated about the offense.
The Platonic-Idealists
[There exists the argument that some offenses are not "real" or "true" football and therefore is bad.]Yet, haven’t we heard this charge before? Yes we have: The spread isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the run and shoot isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the West Coast Offense isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the wishbone isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.At one time the argument was that the entire T formation with a quarterback behind the center wasn’t real or true football and therefore it was bad!
[I]s there some pure, true, Platonic-ideal football?If not, then why? The answer is [no] because football is a game;all the rules - except ones designed around safety - are arbitrary.They might have in mind competitive balance, but this doesn’t make it “true” or “real” in any meaningful sense.What are the most fundamental, “true,” important, or essential rules in football that you can think of?For me, short of the shape of the ball used, my tops would probably be the 100-yard football field, the limit on both sides to eleven players on the field, and the limit on offenses to four downs to score or get a first down.Certainly, all would rank higher than the number of players who might possibly be eligible to receive a forward pass pre-snap, which logically must also rank lower than the number of actually eligible receivers.
Yet, setting aside eight-man football, flag-football, and Arena football, look at Canadian football: the field is 110 yards long, each side has twelve players with six – aside from the quarterback – who are eligible to receive forward passes, and the offense has only three downs to work with.
Now, if the line of scrimmage was abolished and instead of scoring touchdowns by carrying an oblong ball into the end zone teams were instead required to either kick a round ball into a net or by to throw a round ball through a hoop aligned ten feet above the ground then the game could no longer be called football simply because we wouldn’t be able to recognize it as such.But obviously the ability to recognize the sport as football is something far looser than what the “true football” ideologues advocate as eight-man football and Arena Football, to say nothing of the spread, the wishbone, the West Coast Offense, or even, yes, the A-11 offense, are clearly recognizable as football.
So, again, there simply is no such thing as “real” or “true” Platonic football.The next time someone next to you says, upon seeing someone successfully employ a double-reverse pass or some next-wave offensive system, that what you just saw was not “real” football (this group includes many football coaches) you can safely think to yourself that this person has no idea what they are talking about, and you can decide for yourself whether to let them know it (if it’s your Boss or Father-in-Law, I suggest agreeing or simply staying mute).Football is a game designed for fun and its rules are designed for no other reason than to promote fun and safety for players and spectators.
This view is buttressed by the fact that the primary reason for a sport’s rules is tradition, and nowadays most sports, including football, have ruling bodies that establish the law of the land and continually adjust those rules.If there was Platonic-Ideal "true” football, then the believer would have to view these rulemaking bodies as either improperly tampering with the immortal or, somewhat more likely, that they were continuously tinkering with football in its current form to achieve in this world something more closely resembling true, idyllic football through a process that would have to be described less as rule making and instead as divination. Both are, of course, ridiculous, just as the base claim that there is such a thing as Platonic “true” football is ridiculous. I certainly don’t imagine that this is what such rule makers actually see themselves as doing, but if you accept the “true football” argument, those are your inescapable conclusions.
In a pre-bowl game interview, Georgia Tech's Paul Johnson said:
"We don't have our whole system in yet," Johnson said Monday at the Chick-fil-A coaches luncheon. "We'll use the extra practices to work on some of our run-and-shoot stuff.
"There are a lot of the areas of the offense that we are still not very adept at," he added. "We've got to improve in the passing game. We've got some work to do in all areas there and this will give us that opportunity."
That's enough to make every offensive minded guy salivate. Johnson's vaunted flexbone plus the run and shoot? Like pizza and beer, these two things sound perfect together. But of course things aren't always so rosy. Both the flexbone-triple option and the run and shoot are practice intensive offenses, and I don't think we should expect Georgia Tech to open up and throw for 400 yards when they play LSU. But this isn't a bolt out of the blue; Johnson's been around the 'shoot for a long time and its principles have long been a part of his offense.
Indeed, back in the day Johnson was offensive coordinator for a Navy team that upset Cal in a bowl game by racking up 646 yards, including 395 from the air (and they even used a three-receiver stack formation while doing it). And if you go back and study Johnson's offenses you'll see some of the major run and shoot concepts. As I said though, don't expect Georgia Tech to turn all chuck 'n duck. But what can we expect?
I expect to see two trusty run and shoot concepts in particular to make a fairly prominent appearance: the Switch and the Go.
I have described the "Switch" previously, though there's always different flavors in how you do it.
The concept is, at core, a two man concept. Two receivers release and "switch": The outside guys angle inside for 5-6 yards before pushing vertical, while the inside guy runs a "wheel route" under the outside guy, rubs right off of his hip, and then turns up the sideline. That's when they play gets interesting.
In the original R&S, each receiver had [several] delineated options depending on what coverage he saw. They could break it quick on slants, run vertical routes, post routes, curls or in-cuts. When it worked it was beautiful. But sometimes, to borrow Yeats's phrase, "things fall apart." Or simply it took immense practice time for receivers to get good at running the play.
In my previous post I discussed how some modern teams have adapted and simplified the reads. Expect something along those lines in Johnson's aproach, though he still gives his receivers freedom to find the open spots. Remember, option football is a mentality, and it applies to passing as well as running.
The other play, the "Go," is another classic. It is a "trips" route where the outside guy runs a go route or take-off vertical, the middle receiver (usually the guy in motion) runs a "middle-read" or "seam-read" that divides the middle of the field, and the inside guy in trips runs a little flat route after jabbing inside. The play works on a few levels: first, you often get the flat route guy open on a rub off the seam-read receiver's hip; and second the go, backside go, and seam-read often divide up the deep middle coverage to create open spaces for big plays. The thought process is to keep throwing that flat route until they come up for it and then hit them with a big play, either down the sideline or in the seams.
But, if you want someone to explain how the "Go" works, then why not ask June Jones?
Two notes. First, observe that Davie in the video says that the two toughest offenses to depend are the 'shoot and the wishbone, and further note that the flexbone is merely a form of the wishbone. Johnson knows what he's doing.
Also I just want to point out that the only real differences between what Johnson would do with the "Go" and what June Jones would do would be: (a) the slots would be tight-slots rather than slot-receivers; (b) the quarterback would be under center rather than in shotgun (thus actually making the quarterback more of a running-threat when he looks at the flat route as with the original shoot); and (c) the reads for the slot-receiver may - or may not be - somewhat simplified. That really depends on the slot receiver and quarterback. Johnson is not beyond giving them full-freedom, though he can't emphasize it every day in practice like pass-happy June Jones does and still be able to execute his option attack. Like everything else in football, it's a balance.
Update: I want to note that I made a correction to the above: it was actually Navy that upset Cal in that bowl game (which happened to take place in Hawai'i). Though Johnson was OC at Hawai'i at one time as well.
Smart Football analyzes football's strategies, Xs and Os, and tactics, along with the theory and history supporting them. Chris Brown writes Smart Football, and he has been writing about football, in one form or another, since 2002. @SmartFootball (Twitter)
Posts
