On the strong side
Nov 7, 2008 Bad Idea Jeans, Chaun, Chocodiles, Fire Richard Smith, Football 101, President Lyndon Veins Johnson, Rendhel and Sid, The X Factor
Since Zac Diles kicked his own ass and will miss the rest of the season, there has been some speculation as to who will play SLB as well as who should play SLB. Oddly enough, however, the one name that keeps popping up is Xavier Adibi. I say “oddly” because it seems that no one has stopped to think what a horrifically bad idea this would be.
First, some background on the strongside LB position. (Feel free to skip)
In a traditional 4-31, the strongside linebacker is going to be your biggest, strongest linebacker. This makes a ton of sense if you think about it, as he is almost always going to have to fight through a TE or FB block to make a tackle on a D-gap running play. On most plays, however, he is going to jam the TE, and then either pick up TE coverage or maintain containment depending on the D called. When he does stick his nose in to tackle a running back, he’s generally going to have to deal with more offensive lineman than the weakside LB because the line will flow to the strong side. If he is doing his job perfectly, he’ll force everything back to the inside (meaning that a perfect SLB, unless he’s playing behind a really bad D-line, is only going to notch 50 or 70 tackles a year).
Look at those reponsibilities again. The standard 4-3 SLB has to be big and strong enough to jam the TE, fight through TE/FB/OT blocks, maintain secondary edge contain (i.e. not get locked up and moved out of the way), and quickly tackle the TE when in coverage.
[Another quick aside: In Richard Smith's "scheme," the SLB doesn't usually have any edge contain responsibilities and is freed up to make some more tackles than a normal SLB would. This is partly by design---because Smith is a moron---and partly because our defensive line isn't exactly the Steel Curtain. But I digress.]
Because of all this, the prototypical SLB is someone like Carlos Emmons or Marcus Washington (both of whom are getting up in years now). Emmons is 6-5/255ish. Washington is 6-3/245ish. Both are large and strong, almost like an undersized DE. Even Zac Diles, who was short for the SLB job at 6-0, weighed 240 lbs.
Xavier Adibi is 6-2/224.2
TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOUR POUNDS.
Picture for just a moment what would happen if you put a 224 lb man at SLB. Let’s see—blown up by TEs with regularity? Check. Unable to get a good jam at the line? Check. Owned on the edge by FBs and OTs? Check and check. Unable to fight through the blockers and tackle the running back in the backfield? Check. Even worse, can you imagine the strain this puts on Mario (as the best run defender on the line) and DeMeco (for having to clean up Adibi’s mess)? You actually manage to make run defense HARDER for a team that has a crap run defense to begin with. BAD IDEA.
In fact, of all the non-DeMeco LBs on the team, I’d go so far as to say Xavier Adibi (along with Kevis Coley) is the WORST IDEA anyone could consider for SLB. Look:
Chaun Thompson: 6-2/245
Kevin Bentley: 6-0/240
Morlon Greenwood: 6-0/240
Kevis Coley: 6-1/225
My vote? Chaun Thompson. He’s got the size. He’s got the speed and strength, as evidenced by the show he put on at the Combine a few years back. He’s got the speed. Given our limited options, he’d be absolutely perfect for the role.3 Which is precisely why Richard Smith won’t put him there.
Let’s just hope that he doesn’t put Adibi there, either.
1 Though not always in Richard Smith’s ‘tarded version of the same.
2 I don’t buy the 232 that ESPN listed him as. Dude was 220ish all through college and was 224 at the combine. He’s a 220-lber.
3 At least until we draft Brian Orakpo.
Richard Smith and the Mystery of Pass Coverage
Oct 22, 2008 Drunky Drunkerton, Duane Brown as Eliza Doolittle, Dunta Robinson, Faggination, Fire Richard Smith, Fisted by Jessica Alba, Football 101, Fred Weary is dirty, I was told there would be no math, Rendhel and Sid, Richard Justice is a talentless hack., The Fred, Theft
If you have read any of the previous Xs/Os things here at DGDB&D, it should be pretty clear that I am defense-first kind of guy. For every one article on zone blocking, there are at least four on some aspect of our defense or lack thereof. It’s not that I don’t like offense, but given the choice I’d prefer to see Mario Williams knock someone unconscious than watch Owen Daniels get a first down. I’m just odd, I s’pose.
Anyway, because I’m a defensive guy, watching Richard Smith’s approach to my favorite side of the ball has been especially painful. Whether it’s repeatedly dropping Mario into coverage against a Tennessee team that didn’t really throw into the flat all day or benching his best cornerback in favor of someone who is in the conversation for worst player in the NFL, Smith consistently does everything wrong—and, conversely, nothing right—in his defensive playcalling. We’ve covered the lack of blitzing and general lack of common sense and even offered up a possible solution (that Smith would never apply because it takes courage and vision).
The one thing we haven’t really covered, however, except in post-game griping and general comments about defensive failure, is our pass-coverage philosophy. Yet, after seeing the predictable result of Petey Faggins one-on-one with a WR that only Nnamdi Asomugah could cover, I think it’s about time to tackle the defensive backfield. I hope to tackle it better than Will Demps is tackling right now.
First, some background. The Texans play a mix of man coverage (usually in the form of Cover-1 or Cover-2 Man) and Cover-2 zone. Just so we are all on the same page, let’s look at each of those schemes. (Note: as always, we are talking in generalizations here. There are a million tiny variations to all of these…none of which Richard Smith understands.)
Man/Cover-1 Theory. Our most common form of man coverage is the Cover-1. (Our second-most common form is the Cover-2 Man, but we’ll hit on that in a minute.) In Cover-1, the defense has one deep defender at or near the middle of the field (relative to the sidelines) and he is responsible for deep help. Underneath, you will generally have pure man coverage from your CBs and LBs, with the other safety—usually the SS—free to assist in man coverage, sneak up for run support, or blitz.
If you are paying attention, you can see the biggest flaw in the Cover-1: the deep safety is responsible for a TON of real estate and if he lacks the speed or guesses wrong on where to go, it is almost impossible for him to recover. Thus a Cover-1 requires a very good FS in the deep coverage.
Under Gregg Williams, the Redskins ran a Cover-1 as a base package quite a bit, with the thinking being that Sean Taylor was more than capable of playing the role. He was, but Williams continually failed to realize that the scheme put a tremendous amount of pressure on his corners—because they absolutely had to avoid getting burned deep—and they were most certainly not up to that task. Nevertheless, Williams’ reputation as an aggressive play-caller—a myth that we already addressed before the season—was due in large part to the Cover-1’s requirements.
What I mean by this is, because of the inherent flaw in Cover-1, teams that employ that coverage try to be more aggressive up front to prevent the opponent from having enough time to stretch the field and develop multiple deep routes, thereby protecting the safety. To do this, the Cover-1 attempts to employ many different blitz packages/man assigments, most of which revolve around bringing the SS up to LB depth and, from here, either blitzing him or blitzing a LB or CB with that safety picking up the appropriate receiver. For this to be effective, however, any non-blitzing CBs/LBs (especially the WLB) have to be able to cover until the pressure gets to the QB.
Cover-1 also suffers from plenty of room after the catch, as most or all of the underneath defenders are locked up in man coverage of their own and, should a WR catch the ball, are not in position to make a quick tackle. (Think Greg Camarillo on a slant.)
Why it doesn’t work for the Texans. I think you see where I am going with this. Basically, in this coverage, you are asking Will Demps to cover sideline to sideline, Brandon Harrison (or, prior, C.N. Brown) to lock up in man coverage, and Petey Faggins and Jacques Reeves to maintain tight man coverage until Richard Smith’s non-effective blitz package gets to the QB. It should come as no surprise that, in the aforementioned Immolation Of The Faggins looked to be in Cover-1. [EDIT: Triple347 says the Johnson completion was in quarter-quarter-half coverage. See comments for discussion.
Even worse, though, is that Smith bastardizes the hell out of his Cover-1. Far be it from him to send the SS on a blitz. No, he utilizes the SS almost entirely in pass coverage from the LB depth. Meaning that teams with even two games worth of film on the Texans' D quickly figure out that the SS is bluffing and, thus, they don't try to account for him in blitz pickup. Instead, they take advantage of the fact that our SSs don't backpedal all that well---most don't---and they abuse him in coverage or throw over the top of him if he is dropping back into a middle zone.
When Brown/Harrison aren't all the way up at LB depth, Smith sneaks the up toward the middle of the field and in behind DeMeco Ryans, almost as if they are playing some kind of non-commital run support. Behind our best tackler. Because he apparently needs the backup?
Cover-2/Cover-2 Man. "Cover-2" might be the most overused and misunderstood phrase in football defense today. Pretty much all teams will occasionally come out in something resembling a Cover-2, but most have a wrinkle of some sort because most lack the personnel to effectively run a true Cover-2.
Cover-2 is a 2-deep, 5-under zone system. In this coverage, both safeties are responsible for half of the deep part of the field. The CBs are in press coverage and are each responsible for 1/5th of the short/intermediate zone underneath the two safeties. The three linebackers are each responsible for another 1/5. Because the safeties will generally line up between their respective hashmark and the sideline and because they will work toward the sideline at the snap, the biggest hole in the Cover-2 coverage is in between them, behind the MLB.
[Quick side-note: The Tampa-2 variant drops the MLB into deeper coverage to address the hole in the straight Cover-2 and has the CBs/remaining LBs responsible for 1/4th of the field each.]
Whereas the Cover-1 attempts to be aggressive up front to prevent the big play, the Cover-2 typically uses just the four-man rush and attempts to take away the big play by going into a bend-don’t-break mode. There are holes in the coverage between the zones, so teams will tend to throw underneath the two safeties, which is just what the defense is encouraging.
In Cover-2 Man, the safeties still play the same way, but the coverage underneath is pure man. The safeties help with deep coverage into their zones, but the man coverage will stay with the receivers through those zones as well, effectively leading to double-coverage on deep routes.
Regardless of whether the team is in Cover-2 or Cover-2 Man, the one place they should never, ever get beat deep is on the sidelines. The CBs have the WRs through the intermediate zone and the safeties, who moved toward the sideline at the snap, pick them up as they get deeper. Assuming your safeties can do that (and that your CBs consider basic things like “turn your head” and “don’t get roasted off the line”), the Cover-2 allows you to force teams to throw short-to-intermediate passes toward the middle of the field (thereby giving you the added benefit of forcing the opposition to throw the ball past many more hands), with the safeties coming up to make quick tackles. Of course, that also requires that you have safeties that tackle well…
Why this doesn’t work for the Texans. Again, I think you see where this is headed. The corners that Smith insists on giving the most reps are incapable of defending balls thrown over the top of them. The safeties seem incapable of giving help in the intermediate zone or in picking up WRs as they come into the deep zone. Will Demps especially has the annoying habit of letting the WR coming into his zone get past him before he reacts.
It is telling that we are CONSISTENTLY beat along the sidelines at every depth. The basic tenets of this coverage require that you have safeties who can defend the go/corner routes, not let WRs get behind them, and, most importantly, don’t get so worried about the underneath stuff that you bite on double-move. Simply put, we don’t have that.
****
You see the most glaring common weakness through the whole discussion as it pertains to us? OUR SAFETIES ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO RUN ANY OF THE COVERAGES WE ARE ASKING THEM TO RUN. Oh, sure, our Faggins and Reeves are very bad and they deserve their fair share of the blame—blame I am more than happy to heap on Petey at every opportunity—but at least we have Dunta Robinson, Fred Bennett, and Antwaun Molden available. Cornerback could theoretically be fixed if the DC would use some common sense. But we are stuck with the safety corps that we currently feature.
So, how to fix it? By “hiding” the safeties in a Cover-3!
Cover-3 Theory. If you didn’t know it before, by now you’ve realized that the number in Cover-# refers to the numbers of players in the deep zone. It’s a handy shorthand, but it does tend to oversimplify things. Regardless, in the Cover-3, there are (shocking!) three guys in the deep zone, with each responsible for 1/3 of the field. But here’s the wrinkle: unlike the Cover-2, where the two deep players are safeties, the Cover-3 generally uses two corners and a safety in the deep zone.
in a standard 2-corner, 2-safety scheme, it works like this: On the snap, the FS moves toward the middle of the field. The two corners are playing up near the line and they break back, basically running with the WRs while working back to their deep thirds. The SS is freed to rotate into the flat, or blitz, or fill a LB zone if one of them blitzes, or any number of other things. Also, because he’s not responsible for a deep third, the SS does not have to be able to run with deep routes or backpedal all that well, so you make up for a lack of speed/cover skills at SS. The OLBs are responsible for the flats or hook zones, while the MLB is responsible for the intermediate middle (DeMeco would excel in this because of his sideline-to-sideline speed). In one fell swoop, you limited what you are asking each safety to do, you’ve created a situation where DeMeco is utilized to his full ability, you’ve maximized the value of the physical corners (Robinson, Bennett, possibly Molden) because you are allowing them to jam at the line and then run with the route so they can defend the short or intermediate stuff, AND you are putting your OLBs in a position to blitz or cover the hook zone rather than try to run man-to-man with a TE. And if you can teach him to turn his head, Reeves’ speed would be a huge asset in getting back to his deep third, so even he would be improved.
Sounds cool, no? But here’s where it gets even better. You can run all sorts of shapes and formations out of it. You can disguise it as man coverage by keeping the SS back in his normal spot with the CBs in press coverage. You can move the SS up into the box for run support or to blitz him. You can blitz one of the OLBs and abandon the hook zone, assuming you’ll get to him before the WR gets open in the hook/short zone, or have the SS fill that hook zone and hope the QB tries to throw behind the blitz. You can run a zone blitz in front of the Cover-3, something that would be near impossible in the Cover-2, with the DE dropping into the flat.
And there’s more—you can even change up your personnel within the scheme or the scheme within the personnel. Because the FS is playing deep center field and ball hawking, you could occasionally put Dunta in that role, with Molden and Bennett playing jam coverage, thereby getting your big physical corners on the field at the same time while also freeing up Dunta to try to knock people out. You could slide an athletic linebacker like Xavier Adibi into the SS role and have him up in the box doing the same thing your SS would be doing in the straight Cover-3. You can disguise the coverage and confuse the opponent by playing zone on one side while still letting Fred Bennett lock up in man coverage on the other side. Hell, you can run the Cover-3 with your nickel package, with one corner locking up in man, one dropping into a deep third, and both safeties staying back. (You’ll notice that ALL these iterations ask the safeties to do less than we are currently asking them to do, while attempting to create some confusion and pressure up front and maintain deep coverage across the entire deep zone.)
Now, of course, all defenses have holes and inherent weaknesses. Cover-3 is no different. It is particularly susceptible to short routes if the CBs are selling out to get back to their deep zones quickly. This can be overcome somewhat by cheating out just a little bit with the OLBs and getting them into the flats more quickly. Additionally, you can swap coverage zones every now and then—for example, have the SS retreat into the deep zone the CB rotate up into the hook/flat zone if you catch a QB trying to consistently throw underneath the retreating CB. Even with these drawbacks and flaws, I know I would feel a lot better asking Bennett to react to a quick hitch than asking Will Demps to make an open field tackle. (And I’m fairly confident that the 96-yarder to Calvin Johnson doesn’t happen if we are in Cover-3.)
***
Take just a second and think about this whole discussion. You have three basic coverage philosophies here. Your personnel is a bad fit for one, a horrible fit for one, and a pretty good fit for one. Why in the name of Durga would the bad one and the horrible one get used extensively while the pretty good fit gets left on the bench beside your best cover corner?
The answer, best I can tell, is because Richard Smith is trying to kill me.
A revised look at 4-3 defensive theory
Jun 17, 2008 2008 Season, Broken Record, Colvin, Curious Coaching, DeMeco Ryans, Dunta Robinson, Football 101, I love defensive football, Morlon Greenwood, Okam's Razor, Posts that list too many players, Rendhel and Sid, Teams that aren't the Texans, The Fred, Will Demps makes love to the...ladies?
Because two of my good friends are Giants and Redskins fans, respectively, I find myself engaged in more conversations about NFC East football that one would expect for a Texans fan. However, because I am obsessed with defensive football–especially defensive line play–I actually enjoy these chats and, more often than not, come away with some new ideas about our team.
Anyway, one idea that we’ve been kicking around lately is that the Texans should run a variation on the Eagles’ defense because (a) our personnel is tailor-made for such a system and (b) that system would allow our front seven to protect the weaknesses in our back four, just like it did for the Super Bowl Champion Giants. Sounds good, no?
Let me back up a bit, though, and lay this out. Back in late October of last season, I wrote a long post advocating, first, that we blitz, and, second, that we come up with some creative fronts and utilize the zone blitz more often.
2b. So, then…how should we go about blitzing (other than with the aforementioned proper use of the WLB)? The answer is simple: the zone blitz
[4-3 defense 102 here. Feel free to skip ahead.]
The idea behind the zone blitz is two-fold. First, duh, create pressure. Second, however, it tries to confuse the offense’s blocking calls by sending any of the three linebackers (or, occasionally, a safety) while someone else fills the space left by the vacating backer. In that way, the defense does not lose the extra hands in coverage, but should still be able to get penetration because the offensive line will not know where the blitz is coming from on a given play.
For example, the zone blitz allows the MLB to blitz through the A-gap, while the nose tackle stunts over through the B-gap. In coverage, the WLB fills the space vacated by the MLB and the RDE drops back and out into the space that WLB would fill in a standard two deep zone. So, when the QB sees the MLB attack, his natural reaction is to look to throw at where the blitz came from (or, if he’s guessing that the WLB will fill, to where the WLB came from), only to find the ball thrown right at a defender.
Then, on the very next play, with the very same package, the team could go with a more traditional WLB blitz, but have the RDE slide back to fill. We saw this play once or twice in the preseason with Shantee Orr lined up outside the RDE and it was effective.
An added bonus of blitzing out of a two-deep zone is that it allows our best defensive player to make even more of an impact on the game. DeMeco Ryans has two sacks this season, both of which have come on a straight blitz. On both plays, he came more or less untouched (one against Harrington late in the game when we decided to actually play D and the one last week where he nearly killed Kerry Collins) because he was allowed to read the offensive line and choose between the A- and B-gap and he smacked the QB right in the mouth. He has also been asked to run blitz a couple times and he’s found success there. So, if we start using him on some zone blitzes, teams will have to account for him more. Meaning that blitzes from other positions–say Danny Clarkstunting over the LDE with Morlon Greenwood dropping back to the middle and DeMeco filling the space where the SLB would normally be–a team throwing over the blitz would be throwing the ball right at our best defensive weapon. Likewise, letting DeMeco creep up and show blitz, especially if he’d already had success, would create more chances for the d-linemen on either side of him to get ignored by an overzealous o-lineman. And so on, and so forth.
[/4-3 Defense 102]
I cannot state this strongly enough. Blitzing is a necessity when you have 1/4th of a real secondary.Zone blitzing allows for our strong front seven to create mismatches while still keeping two or three extra bodies in coverage and allowing our best defensive player to better impact the game. While you cannot necessarily use the zone blitz on every down (it becomes less effective at some point), how is this not a better option than dropping the three LBs, relying entirely on your front four for any pressure on the QB, and watching the QB have time to locate and throw at Petey Faggins?
3. Why do we use our front four in such a vanilla manner?
Just like you can’t run the zone blitz on every defensive snap, if you do anything over and over, eventually everyone in the NFL will know your tendencies. (By “eventually,” I mean “by next week.”) Right now, we have the same formulaic defensive line positions. Mario at RDE on running plays, Mario at LDE on passing plays, blah blah blah.
Why?
First of all, backing up a step, why when Mario moves to LDE–a move I really, really like–do the tackles not flip-flop so that Amobi Okoye is not beside Mario? We’ve covered this before. Yes, I am fully aware that Amobi has four sacks and that, on three of those, Mario is clearly occupying at least two blockers. That’s all well and good, but, like we said before, it’s not really the highest, best use of their talents. Flipping Amobi puts your two-gap, big-bodied tackle between Mario and Okoye. It is this player’s goal to pick up two blockers, which means that either Amobi or Mario (or, possibly, both) would draw single blocking more often than not. Meaning, oh I don’t know, that we would get more consistent penetration from both sides of the line.
But, back to where we started question 3: why even have a definite set order for your defensive linemen? I mean, sure, if you are going to have set positions based on down and distance, then for god’s sake, do it correctly within the constraints of the 4-3. But do you really even have to have set positions? Right now, you have Mario Williams who, though Richard Justice would disagree, is actually playing very well [This sentence is hilarious in retrospect. --Ed.]. You have Amobi Okoye, who is playing the pass-rush role as well as we hoped and playing the running game better than we hoped. AND you have Travis Johnson who is just playing some inspired football right now, hustling, hitting people, and playing like you would hope a first-round DT would [Did I really write that? Jeez. --Ed.]. That’s three real pass rushers, plus we haven’t even touched on Kalu,Weaver, Maddox, etc.
With that kind of ability up front, why become so predictable that teams can game plan and negate some of the advantage you have? Mix it up a little. Go big on one play and have Mario, Maddox, Johnson, and Amobi from left to right. Next time out, go with your more traditional base. Then turn around and go small (relatively speaking) with Mario, Okoye, Cochran, and Orr [Replace "Orr" with "Colvin" or "Thompson" --Ed.]. Create a mismatch by putting Mario at under tackle and then having him twist-stunt with Weaver lined up at DE. The possibilities are vast…if you will just use them.
Note: I am fully aware that Mario moved around a lot last year and that some of the coaching staff thought that might have been his “problem.” You know, rather than just having an injured foot and being a rookie at a tough position. That’s all well and good, but setting up your front so that he is guaranteed to get doubled on every single play is hardly the answer.
I guess the bigger point here for question three is JUST DO SOMETHING. Don’t keep running out there with a predictable front four rotation, no blitz packages to speak of, and a secondary that can’t cover for as long as you are asking them to. DO SOMETHING.
The great thing about the 4-3 is the balance. But that balance is in terms of playing the run versus playing the pass, meaning you still have to play to the strengths of your D. Consistency in game planning will always equal regression in the NFL; worse, consistently planning in the same incorrect manner will always equal failure.
While a number of you bought into my arguments, there were a good number who argued that “we’d blitz if we could” and “Richard Smith is doing the best he can with what he has.” Of course, my whole argument was that, no he wasn’t, but that’s beside the point. The point is the team did start blitzing the very next week (I know you are reading this, Smith!) and did so with success, I might add. Unfortunately, it never really got into the idea of true zone blitzing or, more importantly, blitzing teams with high-octane offenses (read: the Colts game) and there was little or no creativity shown in our alignments and packages.
Now, I still stand by my assertions that my approach to the defense would work and work well given our roster. However, upon further review, I see that there is an even better approach we could take.
Which brings us to the Eagles’ scheme. And, even better, brings us to an Xs and Os breakdown of said scheme.
The Eagles ostensibly run a 4-3 defense. Their system differs from the standard 4-3, though, in a number of ways, all of them significant.
1. The Outside Linebackers. Instead of having a true SLB and WLB, they make the two OLBs interchangeable in terms of responsibilities and positioning. Using these fungible LBs, on nearly every play one of the OLBs rotates up, creating a five-man front and showing blitz while the other rotates back, creating additional space between himself and the line. Despite being on the line, however, there is no guarantee that that linebacker will blitz; the Eagles will sometimes bring the other OLB, a CB, a safety, or nobody at all (though bringing no one is rare–the Eagles blitz almost 65% of the time), with the up linebacker dropping into coverage either by hitting a specified zone or by picking up the TE or RB or FB in man coverage.
On the other hand, there will obviously be times when the up linebacker does blitz. In this system, though, he might be joined in the rush by the other OLB, by either corner, or (one of the Eagles’ favorite moves) by the safety. Or maybe he’s joined by two or three of those guys. Or maybe you think he’s going to be joined by the safety, only to find the safety back in coverage right as you release the ball…see where I’m going with this?
Another facet of the Philly scheme is that OLB speed is not as important as instincts and the ability to get where you need to be in coverage. This is not to say that speed isn’t an asset–of course it is. Rather, it just means that a player like Greenwood who has shown great instincts (see, e.g., the Atlanta game when he realized Faggins had blown the underneath coverage and tried to get there from his spot on the edge) becomes more valuable in this system.
2. The Middle Linebacker. The Eagles’ system simultaneously limits the MLB and gives him greater freedom to impact the game, which sounds illogical but isn’t. In your standard 4-3, the MLB generally reads the offensive line and the FB and then flows to a hole, whether that hole is in the A-gap or all the way out in the D-gap. But his flow to the hole is limited by his added responsibility of maintaining interior defensive positioning until he is sure there is no cut-back run. Only after making all of the proper reads is your MLB free to use his speed and be the sideline-to-sideline playmaker.
In the Philly scheme, the MLB has two responsibilities–the A-gaps–because all of the other holes are filled with rushing bodies. If the play goes away from these gaps, the MLB’s defined responsibilities are done and he is freed to roam the field, ad-lib, and create plays, meaning that he doesn’t have to have the same great recovery speed that the standard 4-3 MLB does. It is this simultaneous limiting and freeing that makes someone like Jeremiah Trotter a dominant MLB in this system; ask him to play sideline-to-sideline like a typical 4-3 MLB as they did in Washington and he sucks immensely, but put him in Philly where he only has to play the A-gaps and he’ll consistently get 100 solo tackles and 3-5 sacks a year.
3. Defensive Line Theory. In Philly’s scheme, the only player in the front seven who has true two-gap responsibility is the Nose Tackle, and even he only has to do it every once in a while. (The MLB is responsible for two gaps, but they are really just the same gap on either side of the center and not a two-gap responsibility in the same sense that the NT has.) Now, on the face of it, that is not so different from a standard 4-3. The devil is in the details, though.
A typical 4-3 is a read-and-react defense for everyone except a blitzer (and, really, even he is supposed to do this). Now, while the linemen in a 4-3 only have one gap responsibility, the difference between their one-gap requirements and Philly’s DL one-gap requirements is one of intent and initial movement. For example, in the read-and-react approach, his primary responsibility is to read the lineman blocking him because, while he has C- or D-gap (depending on alignment and shift) requirements as well as contain, he has to remain in position to go either direction with respect to his blocker–on an inside run, he has to be able to shed the block and crash down; on an outside run, he needs to get free of the block and seal the edge. To do this successfully, the lineman must stand his blocker up and stay square with him long enough to read the play and react to it (hence the name).
In an attacking, Philly-style system, which is a one-gap attacking approach, the first responsibility for the DE as well as all the other lineman is to get 1.5 to 2 yards upfield, then flow to the ball. What this means in practice (assuming perfect execution) is, in a read-and-react D, every lineman stands his blocker up, then flows along the face of the blockers down the line of scrimmage to the ball, while, in an attacking one-gap system, the defensive linemen get behind the blockers and then flow (or, more accurately, crash) to the ball.
As a quick aside, obviously, each system will have its flaws and benefits. The read-and-react defense expect the linebackers to make most of the tackles, which means consistent positive yardage for the opposing team, yet it also gives you a safety net of a clogged line and three backers moving to the ball. The attacking defense runs a risk of giving up the big play if the linemen or LBs miss their tackles, but it also gives you a near certainty of consistently stopping the opposition for no gain or a loss.
A second difference in D-line theory between the two schemes is movement of the front four by way of stunts and whatnot. Because it is a one-gap system, the linemen are freed to do any number of a variety of stunts so long as the movement ends with one of them in each gap. While such stunts are theoretically possible in a standard 4-3, you can’t do it too much when the DTs may have multiple gaps or when you are worried about breaking contain on the outside. When you are sending the house on a blitz, however, all that matters is (a) that a body ends up in each of the gaps and (b) that you can count on your MLB to make tackles on anyone who comes thru the A gaps or slips around the edge (which goes back to the freedom of the MLB’s responsibilities).
4. Coverage. Much like the front seven, the coverage in a Philly scheme is incredibly fluid. If you watch the Eagles (or the Giants, who are actually a better comparison given their lack of a super secondary), the coverage calls might change two or three times before the ball is snapped. An initial coverage is called based on down and distance. Once the offense breaks its huddle, the coverage is changed if necessary to account for the personnel and the formation. Even better, the coverage can change on the fly after the ball is snapped. So, while the Cover 2 (which is pretty much a one-gap system up front) has players moving to specified zones and has some discrete coverage schemes within the larger system, the Philly system moves seamlessly from zone to man to zone again.
I just re-read that paragraph and it is not overly clear. By way of an incredibly simplistic example (that doesn’t account for some coverage variables): In the Philly system, assume the defense has called a 5-man blitz based on the offense’s personnel of two WR and two TE on third-and-long and that the OLB who has rotated up to the line is supposed to cover one tight end, the nickel corner is coming on the blitz, and the other OLB is picking up the second TE. Now, presnap, the offense shifts the second TE out wide, so the coverage audibles for the third CB to pick up the second TE and the OLB who was going to pick up that TE to blitz. At the snap, the TE who was to be picked up by the up linebacker stays in to block, so that OLB instantly becomes a blitzer as well. You’ve gone from a 5-man corner blitz to a 6-man two-LB blitz without changing your alignment or your package. By bringing out the extra TE, the offense has caused more blitzers to come. That’s some beautiful stuff right there–it’s the beauty of the system that, should the defense recognize the initial blitz and audible into something else, your system accounts for that by changing your blitz altogether.
The second part of the scheme is that it does not pigeonhole your coverage into a certain system. So often, teams that run a Cover 2 design their blitzes based on the principles and assignments of the Cover 2. You will almost never see them come with a safety blitz because that leaves a hole in the coverage they are comfortable running and it is impossible to disguise from the Cover 2 alignment. A corner blitz is disguiseable because the CBs line up on the line, but it requires an OLB to cheat out and cover the area where the corner vacated, which is always dangerous.
But, as Philly showed against New England and Dallas last year, their system doesn’t force you into any specific pass defense. Against the Pats, the Eagles blitzed constantly, from all sorts of angles, and played straight up man coverage behind it and very nearly won that game. In the first half against the Cowboys, Philly again brought extra rushers, but alternated between man and zone behind it. Then, in the second half, they continued to show blitz on every play, but dropped everyone into coverage. The first half pressure had gotten to Romo, though, and he could not find a rhythm even when the blitz didn’t come.
Underlying each of these differences are the basic tenets of the system–create confusion by showing lots of different looks pre-snap and by bringing pressure from all sorts of locations, never let the offense know who is coming or how many are coming (anywhere from 5-8, but more than 4 about 2/3 of the time), and plug every hole while confusing the O-line and causing them to make mistakes. Basically, it’s an offensive take on defense: an attempt to create plays rather than reacting to what the offense is doing. Get upfield, and then play football.
How Does This Apply To Us?
Which brings us to the point of this post. Namely that your Houston Texans possess enough talent and flexibility in their front seven to run a modified version of this system and run it well.
Our defensive line would thrive in the one-gap approach. Imagine telling Mario Williams and even Anthony Weaver, “ok, first we want you to just get in the backfield, then worry about where the ball is.” Could anyone stop Mario in that situation if he didn’t have to react to the play before choosing a lane? Hell, could any TWO people consistently stop him in that situation? I think not. Weaver, likewise, would thrive because he would not have to react to left tackles–something he lacks the speed to do consistently–as much as just beat them off the line and get past them on whatever line he wants. Amobi and Frank Okam on the inside would also be fantastic in this scheme–you wouldn’t be asking two young players to read the play and their blockers. Amobi has already shown a nose for the ball, so you’d be telling him to follow those instincts. And Okam would actually be better than anything Philly uses on the inside–both of their starting DTs are much smaller than he is–and as the only two-gapper would have the girth to really eat up the blockers in his path. Hell, this system would even make Travis Johnson valuable again as the backup for both tackle positions. Love him or hate him (and I did both last year), his biggest problem is that he’s too small to really be a two-gap NT. This system would make him just put his head down and go upfield rather than trying to take on two blockers, so you could spell Okam with him when you didn’t need a two-gapper at all, or Johnson could back up Okoye. Oh, and Rosie Colvin? He could be the second D-end in nickel situations because, like Weaver, his success would not depend on being able to react and beat a LT. Much like Mathias Kiwanuka was for the Giants, he would be the pin-your-ears-back rusher in pure passing downs.
Like I said way back up there, this defense would make Greenwood even better than he has been for us. (And he has been very good, but that’s a whole other article.) Opposite him, it would make life both easier and more fun for Zac Diles–he would be freed from playing the standard run-stopping role of the SLB and would be allowed to use his speed and ability more freely. Plus, you are simplifying the game for a young guy learning a new position because you are giving him specific assignments–rotate up and blitz, rotate up and cover the TE (but blitz if he tries to block you), rotate back and cover the TE/RB, rotate back and blitz. Simple, straightforward. You could also sub in Chaun Thompson in pure passing downs if you thought he was a better blitzer than Diles because teams would then assume he was coming, even when he wasn’t.
I’ve mentioned the Giants a few times through this thing as a more apt comparison for us and a better model to build from. This is because the Eagles have one piece that we do not have–Brian Dawkins. Dawkins role in the Philly system is manifold: he is an additional linebacker, he plans man-up on WRs, he blitzes, and he patrols the deep middle. We don’t have a player that can do that unless and until Dunta comes back as a FS. (Which would be amazingly perfect for this system.) The Giants don’t have the dominating safety, nor do they really have an impressive secondary, but they run a version of this same Philly defense up front (Steve Spagnolo is from the Philly organization) and they won the Super Bowl with it! All without a great secondary. Sound familiar?
The important thing is, if you lack the physical presence of a Brian Dawkins, you have to have a safety back there who is smart enough to make the right reads for the coverage. For the Super Bowl Champion Giants, it was Gibril Wilson. For us, it could just as easily be Will Demps, who might not be Dawkins but is a smart, instinctive safety nonetheless. In fact, to paraphrase my buddy Rendhel, the Giants have not had a great secondary in years, but they always have a good defense because they understand the value of pressuring the QB. When they got Spagnolo and the Philly system, they took this appreciation of pressure to a new level.
Right now, we don’t have a very good secondary, but we seem to also lack the proper appreciation for just how much QB pressure can improve the coverage. Jacques Reeves is blindingly fast, meaning he could come on corner blitzes. But he could also stay with anyone in the league for two or three seconds. It’s when you start asking him to cover longer that he becomes a liability. Fred Bennett is an instinctive young player and will probably become pretty good, but he has still shown that he can be beat if you ask him to cover too long–why not remove that liability more often than not?
I could go on and on, but the point is that we have the personnel to do this and we have first-hand evidence that this kind of defense turns an otherwise non-spectacular team into a playoff team and a real contender. Unfortunately, we also have a defensive coordinator who wouldn’t blitz at all until around Halloween and then backed of his blitzing any time it stumbled a bit. That is the absolute worst attitude a d-coordinator can have. Now, maybe the presence of Ray Rhodes (phormer Philly coach!) will give Smith the testicular fortitude to at least be more aggressive. I can dream, I guess. Because, until we get a new coordinator or our coordinator gets a new outlook, this post is nothing but navel gazing to a disgusting degree.
Like always, though, just because they won’t do it, doesn’t mean I am wrong.
Kickoff
Jun 12, 2008 Anna-Megan is retarded, Bloggerating, Bob McNair, DeMeco Ryans, Football 101, Kickoff, Winstonsaurus
Your balls are shaped funny. As the U.S. Open kicks off today, you might notice one duffer, Bobby Collins, with a Texans logo on his hat and bag. That’s the kind of thing you do when Bob McNair agrees to sponsor you in the Gateway tour, brining you back from the verge of early retirement. Hey, maybe he’d like to sponsor a couple ne’er-do-well bloggers…
Winstonsaurus smash puny baseball! Grr! Texans players hit the field at the Juice Box yesterday for the 6th annual charity homerun derby thingy. Contestants included DeMeco Ryans, Mario Williams, and Captain Tradebait, among others, but the big bat of the night belonged to Eric Winston. Three of Winston’s four homers even reached the upper deck, an area that Darin Erstad and Michael Bourn have only heard legend of.
Slut. It seems that Shake’s interest in the Texans extends beyond smart-assed comments and witty observations. Shake: From the defensive side of the ball, what specific improvements do you see in the O-line this offseason? DeMeco: Hey, ain’t you that dude who comments on those dumbass blogs? (One of those quotes might not be accurate.)
80=80. Chris has been doing a great job of breaking down some of the logistical concerns behind guessing who will make the 80-man roster. One thing that makes it so tough this year is that the 80-man roster really does mean 80 human beings. In years past, teams were allowed the use of up to 6 additional players through NFL Europa roster exemptions. Now, of course, Europa is dead, but the league has not increased the 80-man limit.
So…about that zone blocking.
Jan 11, 2008 2008 Season, Alex Gibbs, Awesomeness, Football 101, Nnamdi Asomugha, Posts that list too many players, Preview, RB free-for-all, Ron Dayne likes pie, Stats, Teams that aren't the Texans
The hiring of Alex Gibbs prompted at least three people to ask me to re-address the zone blocking concept. Because there are a few things in the original post on the subject that I wanted to correct or clarify, I am glad to. [Note: all block quotes are cut-and-pasted from the original post.]
Not long ago, I heard a color commentator mention during an NFL game that a “zone blocking system is one in which the lineman all have a specific area they are responsible for, kind of like a zone defense in basketball.” I found the same sort of thought at Football Outsiders, too. While this is more-or-less, sorta kinda accurate when it comes to pass blocking, it is not correct vis-a-vis run blocking. Or, at least, not near correct enough to get the point across. At its most basic level, all a zone run blocking scheme means is that the offensive linemen work in pairs against two or three of the defensive linemen–i.e. the guard and center simultaneously block a defensive tackle–with one of the offensive linemen then peeling off and blocking a linebacker. The “zone” the system refers to is the part of the line where the running play is going. This is what creates the “one cut” system, but we’ll get to that in a minute.
Let’s expound on that a little. First, for the sake of brevity and clarity, let’s get some acronyms working. “ZPB” will refer to zone pass blocking and “ZRB” will refer to…well, you get it.
Anyway, in a ZPB scheme, it is true that the offensive linemen are responsible for an area rather than a specific defender. This means on a blitz or a defensive lineman stunt, the offensive linemen must all be on the same page as to assignments and all must maintain zone discipline similar to lane discipline on special teams coverage. Getting this coordinated movement down is one of the more difficult aspects of learning the system, mainly because of some of the intricacies involved.
For instance, imagine a twist-stunt between the RDE and RDT. In pure theory, the LT and LG are just going to wait for the stunting lineman to come into their respective zones. Problem is, the game moves at too high a speed–especially when you are talking about the speed of a DE compared to an OG. In this situation, assuming a normal twist where the end goes under the tackle, four distinct movements will happen on the O-line. (1) The LT will engage the DE to stop him from shooting the gap. (2) The LG will step backward and to his left. (3) The LT will disengage the DE, passing him off to the LG who is now in position to block him. (4) The LT will locate and pickup the stunting DT.
As with any pass-blocking scheme, you have the question of how blitz pickup works. There are some people who disagree, but I actually feel blitz pickup is easier in a zone system. Assume a blitz where the SLB is going to shoot the B gap, the LDE is going outside the tackle (C gap) and the LDT is going A gap. Here, we have at least three defined movements. (1) The RG engages the DT, allowing the C enough time to get his head up and make the 45-degree step back and to his right. (2) The RG passes the DT off to the C, now in position, and slides right to pick up the SLB. (3) The RT picks up the LDE as he usually would. The reason this is preferable (at least in my mind) is that it simplifies the blitz pickup assignment, as each offensive lineman is essentially guarding a gap rather than worrying about who will pick up the extra rusher. This way, if the SLB actually goes to the C gap and the LDE stunts to the B gap, the RT mirrors what the RG did in steps (1) and (2) above, then passes the DE to the RG. The TE mirrors the two linemen, picks up the SLB (if necessary), and then passes him off to the RT before releasing.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “That’s all fine and dandy, but what about the good stuff?” Because, as we all know, the real excitement of the Gibbs hire (and the real difficultly in implementing the zone system) comes from ZRB.
Let’s walk through a example play where the running back is supposed to go right against a 4-3 defensive front. At the snap of the ball, the left tackle and left guard block the nose tackle, the center takes under tackle, and the right guard and right tackle block the left defensive end. This two-on-one blocking allows the offensive front to get a push and, also, to create the running lanes. Now, here’s where it gets tricky. Depending on certain factors (where the defensive player lined up, which direction the running play is going, where the LB is in relation to the defensive lineman, etc.), one offensive player from each double-team will disengage the defensive lineman and pick up the corresponding linebacker. So, in our example, assuming a standard 4-3 Over, the LT would disengage and slide to the second level to pick up the WLB, the RG would do the same and pick up the Mike linebacker, and the TE would be responsible (from the snap) for the SLB.
If this is done correctly, there should be a hole between the TE and RT, the C and where the RG was, and the C and LG. This is the “inside zone” and is where the “one cut” comes into play. In this system, the running back chooses one of these holes, makes his single cut, and goes. Ideally, he won’t make this cut until he is almost to his offensive lineman, thus allowing the defense less time to react to his angle. By contrast, the “outside zone” is the area beyond the TE/Sam block. Plays designed to seal off the defense and open up the outside zone do not have the “one cut” aspect to them–the running back is obligated to head outside (in theory, at least)–so the linemen block similar to a man blocking scheme, where there is a pre-determined hole.
The above part is where I should have been more precise. Apologies.
For one thing, if you want to be extremely technical, running this play to the hole between the RG and RT is “middle zone.” That’s really neither here nor there for our discussion, but I want to be thorough. Additionally, you could include a stretch play, where the RB heads for just inside the last offensive player (i.e. a WR). This is far more common in college, but can be done in the NFL with the right personnel. We shan’t be doing it much with Ron Dayne, however, so we’ll ignore it for now.
Another slight correction. Re: the man-blocking appearance of the outside zone runs, it is possible to run a variation, wherein the tackle seals the DE, the C cuts the DT, and the G peels around to seal off the OLB. This is often called a “pull and overtake” or “pin and pull” maneuver. The key is that the G make an initial hit on the playside shoulder of the DE to knock him off balance and allow the OT to overtake him.
With those corrections out of the way, let’s look at some other aspects of ZRB.
First, some historical background. Like all good football innovations, ZRB was developed as a response to a defensive trend. Teams were using a slant/angle defense, where the defensive linemen all rush to the same side of their corresponding offensive linemen and the blitzing linebacker flows back the other direction into a wide open rushing lane to sack the QB or blow up the running play. ZRB (and ZPB) mitigated this by allowing linemen to pass rushers off and stay home to deal with the linebackers. In fact, with ZRB, a properly-handled blitzing LB is basically taking himself out of the play. If he is blitzing to the same side as the running play, he’s picked up and and sealed off like any other defensive lineman; if he’s blitzing to the backside of the running play–as long as it is not through the A gap–he is generally allowed to shoot through with minimal resistance as the one-cut technique allows the RB to be long gone by the time the LB adjusts.
A second feature of ZRB is its consistency in appearance. From snap to cut, every play should look more or less the same, forcing the linebackers into a no-win choice–do they stay home and see where the play develops (and, thus, risk getting picked up by the offensive lineman who has just disengaged and looked to the second level) or do they flow with the play and more often than not overpursue? Part of the reason they are forced into this quandry is because the RB in a ZRB system has two responsibilities–first, he is running to a specific spot (usually called a “landmark”) on each play. This spot can vary, but it usually somewhere right around the OG’s butt. Second, he is running toward that landmark as for as long as he can, so that he gets as deep as possible into the line–and causes the flowing linebackers to keep moving away–before making his cut.
[Author's note: I need to make another correction here. I stated that running to the outside zone does not have the one-cut aspect to it and that it is more like traditional man blocking. While this is true, it overlooks that, because it looks the same as the middle- and inside-zone runs as it initially develops, the fact that your back has been making cuts effectively turns not making a cut and going outside just as effective as the cuts. Like anything in football, it's all about mixing it up.]
A third feature of ZRB is actually what it does not feature. Namely, it is very rare (read: never) that you will see a counter or misdirection play. The reason for this should be obvious. If the running back goes right, but the entire ZRB unit sets up for a run to the left, the play doesn’t really fool anyone, the RB is pretty much forced to turn the run into an outside zone or stretch play when he heads back to his left, and the RB is running right into the defensive players that ZRB lets through with minimal resistance. There are some variations on ZRB that attempt to incorporate traps and counters, but they are few and far between.
Fourth, traditional ZRB chooses which side to run the play to based upon the defensive technique. What do I mean? Well, take your inside zone, for instance. Most teams will run all inside- and middle-zone runs toward the 1-technique tackle, regardless of whether he lines up on the right or left. This is because his position relative to the inside shoulder of the OG makes it easy for the C and OG to double-team him, push him in the proper direction, and still be in position to pick up the LB. This lack of this sort of theory is part of what made the Texans system in ‘06 and ‘07 a hybrid–they would run plays to pre-determined sides, meaning that certain plays called for man blocking and eliminated double teams.
Facets of zone blocking thus taken care of, let’s move on to the final pieces of the puzzle–personnel and Gibbs’ history.
In the last post, I wrote:
Well, as Tim correctly notes, the zone blocking scheme almost invariably features smaller, more agile offensive linemen. The reason should be obvious–it is not going to be real easy for a Larry Allen to engage a defender, then slide his big butt away from the block and pick up a linebacker who is 4 or 5 tenths of a second faster than he is. Besides, since you are hitting at the initial point of attack with a 2-on-1 advantage, you don’t need a pair of 340 lb. behemoths; a pair of 280 lb. lineman will work just fine, with the added bonus of being able to pick up linebackers and be more maneuverable in space.
I then went on to opine that our current crop doesn’t fit that mold, which is true, and explaining the underlying theory of the smaller guys. However, what I failed to really flesh out is that the idea of smaller linemen is only the current theory of what works and it is primarily based on the success Denver has had. However, just like how teams moved from the power-I to today’s offensive formations, the current mold for a ZRB lineman is not necessarily the only thing that works.
The Denver theory of using two-on-one and having the speed to get to the second level is fine and it is incredibly successful. However, it is also the reason that they have to use the cut-blocks that so many people complain about. When Gibbs took over Denver’s offensive line in 1984, his offensive linemen were nearly all between 260 and 280. He played with the hand he was dealt and created a ZRB scheme that utilized cutblocking because he had to (though it is no stretch to say that, over time, he developed an affinity for the sub-300 lbers). After all, there are two ways to create running lanes–you can move the defensive player out of the way or you can knock him down. Even going two-on-one, because of the way ZRB quickly disengages and moves to the next level, your two 280-lb linemen don’t have the bulk to appreciably move a 340-lb 1-technique tackle before one of them releases. So you send one of the 270-lbers into the side of the DT’s thigh and knock him flat.1
If, on the other hand, you have more bulk at the point of attack, you obviate the need for the cut block because you can physically move the DT before the OG (or whomever) slides to the next level. Simple physics, really–620 lbs are going to exert more force in a given time than 560 lbs will.
Now…which of these lineman prototypes is preferable? I honestly can’t say. On the one hand, as we discussed, the smaller, more agile linemen give you the speed to move to the linebackers and the size to fit through smaller gaps in order to get to that next level. However, as commenter cseafous pointed out (comment #4), modern linebackers are always going to be faster than even the most agile OG. So, unless your RB is really, really good at running to his landmark and freezing the LBs, there’s a fairly decent chance that the OG will not be able to pick up the LB on the run. Conversely, if you have traditional offensive linemen, you have a lot more mass at the point of attack, but you create a situation where the doubleteam has to engage, move, have one disengage, and find the next level more quickly to compensate for the lack of speed.
Ideally, you’d get guys like Eric Winston who were slightly smaller than average (305) but were strong (22 reps) and quicker (4.93) than average, basically splitting the baby and getting maximum push in a short amount of time while still having the agility to pick up LBs. Of course, if it were that easy to find those guys, everyone would do it. Still, I imagine that, over time, you will see the girth of our existing line lessened.
Ignoring the size of the blockers for a second, the cool thing about Gibbs, however, is that he’s had success everywhere he’s gone, regardless of the initial group he got to work with. When he got to Denver, the team ran for 746 yards in its first five games. When he went to Atlanta in 2004, he had guys like Kynan Forney (307), Martin Bibla (306), Michael Moore (318)…not exactly the prototype from his Denver days (and not exactly All-Pros). Yet that Falcons team had both backs–Warrick Dunn and TJ Duckett–average at least 4.2/carry and they were consistent in those averages pretty much game in and game out.
With that kind of sustained success, regardless of the personnel he starts with, I think it is safe to say that hiring Alex Gibbs is going to prove to be bigger than any single offseason move we might make. And I would stick by that statement even if we signed Nnamdi Asomugha.
Another consistent thing about Gibbs’ teams–more often than not, they don’t take offensive linemen early in the draft. In 1984, the first o-lineman they took was in Round 8 (Winford Hood). In 1985, Round 5 (Billy Hinson). In 1986, Round 4 (Jim Juriga–this one is misleading, though, because the fourth round was the first pick Denver had). In 1987, Round 8 (Dan Morgan). In 1995, Round 4 (Jamie Brown). In 1996, Round 7 (Leslie Ratliff). In 1997, Round 3 (Dan Neil). In 1998, Round 7 (Trey Teague). In 1999, Round 2 (Lennie Friedman). In 2000, Round 4 (Cooper Carlisle). In 2001, Round 4 (Ben Hamilton). In 2002, they didn’t draft one. Finally, in 2003, Round 1 (George Foster).
When he went to Atlanta, the trend continued. 2004–didn’t draft one. 2005–Round 5 (Frank Omiyale). 2006–Round 5 (Quinn Ojinnaka).
Long story short, you can probably stop mentioning names like Ryan Clady and Sam Baker when you are talking about possible picks at 18. While not drafting first-round OTs is nothing new for this franchise, with Gibbs on board, the results almost surely will be.
1 Mark Schlereth has also said that a benefit of the cutblock is that you keep knocking these 300 lb. DTs down and they have to get right back up and trail the play while the O-lineman lays there and rests until the play ends, thus tiring the defensive player far more quickly. This is probably true, but is more of an added benefit than a raison d’etre for ZRB.
Professor, without knowing precisely what the danger is, would you say it’s time for our viewers to crack each other’s heads open and feast on the goo inside?
Nov 28, 2007 2007 Season, 2008 Draft, Charles Spencer, Football 101, Fred Weary is dirty, Free Agency, Offensive (punch)Line, Secondary issues are primary, The Future
Somehow, between my switch to WordPress and my continued insistence on making up conversations, I managed to miss talking about the departure of Mike Sherman. Thankfully, the more sane among us have been all over it. Even better, in Tim’s coverage and the comments thereto, an interesting point was raised–will the departure of Sherman signal the end of the Green Bay influence on our offensive line play? More specifically, will the lack of a competing philosophy of run-blocking cause Kubiak to shift more toward a true one-cut, zone blocking running game like they use in Denver?
Before we get ahead of ourselves, however, let’s bust out the ol’ football primer, just so we are on the same page. (If you already know all this, please feel free to skip ahead to the part where it says ***STOP SKIMMING!!!***)
Not long ago, I heard a color commentator mention during an NFL game that a “zone blocking system is one in which the lineman all have a specific area they are responsible for, kind of like a zone defense in basketball.” I found the same sort of thought at Football Outsiders, too. While this is more-or-less, sorta kinda accurate when it comes to pass blocking, it is not correct vis-a-vis run blocking. Or, at least, not near correct enough to get the point across. At its most basic level, all a zone run blocking scheme means is that the offensive linemen work in pairs against two or three of the defensive linemen–i.e. the guard and center simultaneously block a defensive tackle–with one of the offensive linemen then peeling off and blocking a linebacker. The “zone” the system refers to is the part of the line where the running play is going. This is what creates the “one cut” system, but we’ll get to that in a minute.
Let’s walk through a example play where the running back is supposed to go right against a 4-3 defensive front. At the snap of the ball, the left tackle and left guard block the nose tackle, the center takes under tackle, and the right guard and right tackle block the left defensive end. This two-on-one blocking allows the offensive front to get a push and, also, to create the running lanes. Now, here’s where it gets tricky. Depending on certain factors (where the defensive player lined up, which direction the running play is going, where the linebacker is in relation to the defensive lineman, etc.), one offensive player from each double-team will disengage the defensive lineman and pick up the corresponding linebacker. So, in our example, assuming a standard 4-3 Over, the left tackle would disengage and slide to the second level to pick up the Will linebacker, the right guard would do the same and pick up the Mike linebacker, and the TE would be responsible (from the snap) for the Sam linebacker.
If this is done correctly, there should be a hole between the TE and Right Tackle, the Center and where the Right Guard was, and the Center and Left Guard. This is the “inside zone” and is where the “one cut” comes into play. In this system, the running back chooses one of these holes, makes his single cut, and goes. Ideally, he won’t make this cut until he is almost to his offensive lineman, thus allowing the defense less time to react to his angle. By contrast, the “outside zone” is the area beyond the TE/Sam block. Plays designed to seal off the defense and open up the outside zone do not have the “one cut” aspect to them–the running back is obligated to head outside (in theory, at least)–so the linemen block similar to a man blocking scheme, where there is a pre-determined hole.
***STOP SKIMMING!!!***
That’s all well and good, but how does that translate to our system? Well, as Tim correctly notes, the zone blocking scheme almost invariably features smaller, more agile offensive linemen. The reason should be obvious–it is not going to be real easy for a Larry Allen to engage a defender, then slide his big butt away from the block and pick up a linebacker who is 4 or 5 tenths of a second faster than he is. Besides, since you are hitting at the initial point of attack with a 2-on-1 advantage, you don’t need a pair of 340 lb. behemoths; a pair of 280 lb. lineman will work just fine, with the added bonus of being able to pick up linebackers and be more maneuverable in space.
And therein lies the rub. Look at our current crop of O-linemen. All are over 300 lbs. Of the opening day starters, only Eric Winston and Steve McKinney are agile enough (arguably, in McKinney’s case) to play in a zone blocking scheme. Charles Spencer–assuming he ever recovers from that injury–is far too large to play the role effectively. Of the backups, Chris White is the right size, but who knows if he is actually all that good? Kasey Studdard isn’t overly agile and he’s too heavy. And so on, and so forth.
On top of this personnel issue, there is the problem that such a scheme takes a long time to install. It’s not a plug-and-play system where you just tell the guys “ok, we’re switching to zone” and it takes care of itself. The teamwork required in knowing which blocker is to disengage and find the linebacker is not something that happens overnight. Even if you already had five offensive linemen who fit the system, it’s doubtful that such a change could be made successfully in one summer of workouts. A full summer and camp of practice would allow you to run it, but the bugs and kinks of the system would take at least a full season of play to work out. And, like I said, that is with five guys who were perfect fits.
In general, I am a fan of the zone run blocking system, if only because I feel like it’s easier to find guys who are 280-300 and somewhat agile just by culling from the college players who are “undersized” or even “too small” according to the Mel Kipers of the world. I also like the system’s emphasis on blocking through the second level instead of allowing that level to come to you. That said, I don’t know that you can slowly switch to such a system. If Kubiak and Co. decided that they wanted to run it, such a change would require dedicating much of your draft and free agent money to finding the right guys (and, thus, ignoring the glaring problems in the defensive backfield). It would also require telling guys like Fred Weary and Chester Pitts and Ephraim Salaam, “sorry, but you’re not really needed anymore.” I don’t know that our regime is willing to make such dedications and statements at this point.
Considering the 4-3, or Why Richard Smith is irritating me
Oct 23, 2007 2007 Season, Amobi Okoye is 20, Athletes who don't stab people, DeMeco Ryans, Demarcus Faggins sucks, Football 101, Secondary issues are primary, Super Mario, Travis Johnson
I know we haven’t been running a 4-3 defense very long. I know that there are probably still some kinks and growing pains that we are trying to work through. Nevertheless, I am beginning to wonder if Richard Smith even knows how to use a 4-3. In fact, taking it a step further, as each week passes, I am more and more sure that he’s unaware we are even running a 4-3. How else can you explain the following:
1. Why aren’t we blitzing someone with any regularity?
[fire up the tedious, pedantic football primer]
The greatest strength of the 3-4 defense is its flexibility. Because the defense requires faster players at key positions, teams can move seamlessly between the base 3-4, an old-school 5-2 (from which they can either all rush, slide into a 2-deep zone, or even run a basic zone-blitz), and even a 4-2-5 zone. Given that flexibility plus the speed inherent in the personnel, a person might wonder why all teams don’t run the 3-4. Well, aside from the fact that it’s not always easy to put together that personnel (as our first years demonstrated), the answer is that the 3-4 is much easier for teams to run against. Because the players in the 3-4 are smaller, a good running team with a large line can dominate the nose tackle, crash down on the middle linebackers, and create some great running holes.
The 4-3, on the other hand, gives you an additional defensive tackle and makes it easier to keep the offensive linemen from getting to the second level and neutralizing your MLB. And, if you find four really good linemen, the 4-3 offers the opportunity to get good pressure on the offense without sending a linebacker. This is helpful because the base 4-3 generally features man coverage on the WRs. If the front four can get pressure, however, the linebackers and DBs can drop into a 2- or 3-deep zone, increasing your chances for a hurried throw and possible interception.
THAT SAID (and that’s a very big “that said”), if you don’t have a defensive line that can get pressure all by itself–few teams do–you have to create pressure. It doesn’t matter how good or flexible your linebackers are, if the front four cannot get after the QB alone, all but the most inept NFL QBs can sit back there and pick apart a zone defense. See, e.g, Collins, Kerry.
[end primer...for the moment]
OK, so back to my pre-primer question: Why aren’t we at least blitzing someone with any regularity?
I know that the pat answer is “because we need our LBs in coverage.” Except that is circular logic. If you aren’t blitzing because you aren’t getting pressure and, thus, your suspect secondary is getting exposed, then it is the dropping of LBs into coverage that is creating the need for the LBs in coverage.
Look, if you aren’t getting pressure from the front four in a 4-3, then you have to create pressure by blitzing. It’s that simple. This is doubly true when your secondary is shaky at best. Pressure creates turnovers through hurried throws and forced fumbles and it forces clowns like Petey Faggins to have to cover for a shorter time (thus limiting the amount of time he has to grab hold of the WRs jersey). There are no three linebackers in the world who can help enough to counter a QB having all day to pick apart a feeble secondary.
For a perfect example of this, you need look no further than last year’s Washington Redskins. When injuries at corner made it so that they basically couldn’t cover anyone, their response was to drop everyone into coverage and play a soft cover 2. The result: QBs had all day (because Washington’s front four couldn’t get any pressure at all) and the Skins were the worst deep ball defense in the league last year. The lesson: QB pressure makes the entire defense better in ways that extra coverage cannot, or, alternatively, any amount of coverage gets beat when the QB has enough time.
Which is not to say that I advocate sending ALL of your linebackers…
2. So, then…how should we go about blitzing (assuming we won’t just properly utilize the LBs in the 4-3)? The answer is simple: the zone blitz
[4-3 defense 102 here. Feel free to skip ahead.]
The idea behind the zone blitz is two-fold. First, duh, create pressure. Second, however, it tries to confuse the offense’s blocking calls by sending any of the three linebackers (or, occasionally, a safety) while someone else fills the space left by the vacating backer. In that way, the defense does not lose the extra hands in coverage, but should still be able to get penetration because the offensive line will not know where the blitz is coming from on a given play.
For example, the zone blitz allows the MLB to blitz through the A-gap, while the nose tackle stunts over through the B-gap. In coverage, the WLB fills the space vacated by the MLB and the RDE drops back and out into the space that WLB would fill in a standard two deep zone. So, when the QB sees the MLB attack, his natural reaction is to look to throw at where the blitz came from (or, if he’s guessing that the WLB will fill, to where the WLB came from), only to find the ball thrown right at a defender.
Then, on the very next play, with the very same package, the team could go with a more traditional WLB blitz, but have the RDE slide back to fill. We saw this play once or twice in the preseason with Shantee Orr lined up outside the RDE and it was effective.
An added bonus of blitzing out of a two-deep zone is that it allows our best defensive player to make even more of an impact on the game. DeMeco Ryans has two sacks this season, both of which have come on a straight blitz. On both plays, he came more or less untouched (one against Harrington late in the game when we decided to actually play D and the one last week where he nearly killed Kerry Collins) because he was allowed to read the offensive line and choose between the A- and B-gap and he smacked the QB right in the mouth. He has also been asked to run blitz a couple times and he’s found success there. So, if we start using him on some zone blitzes, teams will have to account for him more. Meaning that blitzes from other positions–say Danny Clark stunting over the LDE with Morlon Greenwood dropping back to the middle and DeMeco filling the space where the SLB would normally be–a team throwing over the blitz would be throwing the ball right at our best defensive weapon. Likewise, letting DeMeco creep up and show blitz, especially if he’d already had success, would create more chances for the d-linemen on either side of him to get ignored by an overzealous o-lineman. And so on, and so forth.
[/4-3 Defense 102]
I cannot state this strongly enough. Blitzing is a necessity when you have 1/4th of a real secondary. Zone blitzing allows for our strong front seven to create mismatches while still keeping two or three extra bodies in coverage and allowing our best defensive player to better impact the game. While you cannot necessarily use the zone blitz on every down (it becomes less effective at some point), how is this not a better option than dropping the three LBs, relying entirely on your front four for any pressure on the QB, and watching the QB have time to locate and throw at Petey Faggins?
3. Why do we use our front four in such a vanilla manner?
Just like you can’t run the zone blitz on every defensive snap, if you do anything over and over, eventually everyone in the NFL will know your tendencies. (By “eventually,” I mean “by next week.”) Right now, we have the same formulaic defensive line positions. Mario at RDE on running plays, Mario at LDE on passing plays, blah blah blah.
Why?
First of all, backing up a step, why when Mario moves to LDE–a move I really, really like–do the tackles not flip-flop so that Amobi Okoye is not beside Mario? We’ve covered this before. Yes, I am fully aware that Amobi has four sacks and that, on three of those, Mario is clearly occupying at least two blockers. That’s all well and good, but, like we said before, it’s not really the highest, best use of their talents. Flipping Amobi puts your two-gap, big-bodied tackle between Mario and Okoye. It is this player’s goal to pick up two blockers, which means that either Amobi or Mario (or, possibly, both) would draw single blocking more often than not. Meaning, oh I don’t know, that we would get more consistent penetration from both sides of the line.
But, back to where we started question 3: why even have a definite set order for your defensive linemen? I mean, sure, if you are going to have set positions based on down and distance, then for god’s sake, do it correctly within the constraints of the 4-3. But do you really even have to have set positions? Right now, you have Mario Williams who, though Richard Justice would disagree, is actually playing very well. You have Amobi Okoye, who is playing the pass-rush role as well as we hoped and playing the running game better than we hoped. AND you have Travis Johnson who is just playing some inspired football right now, hustling, hitting people, and playing like you would hope a first-round DT would. That’s three real pass rushers, plus we haven’t even touched on Kalu, Weaver, Maddox, etc.
With that kind of ability up front, why become so predictable that teams can game plan and negate some of the advantage you have? Mix it up a little. Go big on one play and have Mario, Maddox, Johnson, and Amobi from left to right. Next time out, go with your more traditional base. Then turn around and go small (relatively speaking) with Mario, Okoye, Cochran, and Orr. Create a mismatch by putting Mario at under tackle and then having him twist-stunt with Weaver lined up at DE. The possibilities are vast…if you will just use them.
Note: I am fully aware that Mario moved around a lot last year and that some of the coaching staff thought that might have been his “problem.” You know, rather than just having an injured foot and being a rookie at a tough position. That’s all well and good, but setting up your front so that he is guaranteed to get doubled on every single play is hardly the answer.
I guess the bigger point here for question three is JUST DO SOMETHING. Don’t keep running out there with a predictable front four rotation, no blitz packages to speak of, and a secondary that can’t cover for as long as you are asking them to. DO SOMETHING.
The great thing about the 4-3 is the balance. But that balance is in terms of playing the run versus playing the pass, meaning you still have to play to the strengths of your D. Consistency in game planning will always equal regression in the NFL; worse, consistently planning in the same incorrect manner will always equal failure.
[Author's note: I wrote this in about five different pieces, so I apologize if it rambles. Please point out any inconsistencies in it.]
Gary Kubiak understands defensive line positioning
May 30, 2007 Amobi Okoye is 19, Football 101, Gary Kubiak, Jason Babin, Preview, Sam Adams, Super Mario
For the second time this month, I find myself linking to a Seahawks Huddle post regarding the Texas. Odd. Really, though, the only reason I’m linking to it is for this line regarding Manchild.
All indications are that he will start next to Mario Williams on the right side.
Um… what? The Texans depth chart on NFL.com currently shows Amobi at the Under Tackle position, alongside Anthony Weaver, with Maddox playing the Nose. The Texans’ own website says the same thing. If such early charts indicate anything, it’s that Okoye is likely NOT going to be playing beside Super Mario.
Do you know why these two depth charts have Okoye at the under position? Because Victor Petersen’s alignment is stupid. And even the Texans try to avoid do stupid things on purpose.1
[Author's Note: The following discussion of defensive tackle positioning and technique is going to be simultaneously tedious and--for many of you--common friggin' sense. Still, to make my larger point here, I feel like I need to lay out exactly why the Amobi-by-Mario alignment would be wrong.]
Okoye is a prototypical under tackle. He’s a fast (for his size), penetrating, one-gap player. Such players almost always line up off of the center. Wait… let’s start with a visual aid.
(clicky to embiggen)
OK… back to Okoye. Players of his size and skill set are best suited to line up away from the center, usually a half-step past the guard (toward the respective tackle). This is the 3-technique and makes him a one gap player. The 3-technique tackle’s job is to shoot that gap, create penetration, and either disrupt the running play or sack the QB. In Okoye’s case, he will almost certainly play the under tackle in the 3-technique position over the offense’s right guard.
Anthony Maddox, on the other hand, has a completely different skill set as a defensive tackle.2 He is a traditional 0- or 1-technique DT, meaning he will line up over the center, one half-step toward the left-guard. In this position, a tackle will see frequent double-teams from the center and left guard, with the left guard engaging first and the center picking up. [Author's note: Technically, this off-set alignment is a 4-3 Over and not a straight 4-3.]
[/End of tedious football 101 recap]
So, this configuration, with Maddox next to Mario makes sense now, doesn’t it? The goal in drafting Okoye was not to have him take blockers off of Williams; the goal was to have him take pressure off of Williams, by forcing the opposing offenses to account for two quality pass rushers. Now, Weaver (or Babin) might benefit from getting more one-on-one matchups with TEs if teams try to double Okoye. That would benefit Mario, too, as he would be solo on the offense’s RT without TE interference. If that’s how teams want to play the front four, then I suppose Okoye has technically taken a blocker off of Williams, but not in the manner suggested by the above quote.
For argument’s sake, what would happen if Petersen’s lineup were used? Okoye’s primary skill–interior penetration–would be negated as he would be trying to draw a second blocker on every play. Maddox’s primary skill–playing the 0-technique as a run-stuffing two gap player would also be negated, as he would be lined up to plow through the B gap without reacting to the actual route taken by the running back. While Weaver is a good run defender from the 6-7 position, there is only so much he could do in this configuration. Moreover, teams could basically run through the right-side A gap at will, as Maddox lacks the mobility to read-and-react from the 3 position consistently.
In the end, it’s hard to fathom an argument for putting Okoye alongside Williams. Either Petersen knows something NO ONE else does, or he’s just talking for the sake of talking. One thing is for certain, though… the only “account” that suggests this alignment is Petersen’s. Thankfully.
UPDATE: You might wonder how this discussion relates to my “Babin at LE” post.3 Well, here’s the deal: Despite the fact that Weavs is more or less entrenched in Kubes’ mind as an end, the truth is Weaver is a ‘tweener. He is a little too be to be a 4-3 end and he’s a little too small to play nose tackle. He’s a good run defender from the end, but a better pass rusher from tackle. The team knows this to an extent–Weaver did play some tackle in passing downs last season. In my Babin-centric theory, Weaver would be relegated to playing some under tackle when Amobi needed a break as well as playing backup to Babin. In effect, he would be playing the same two positions he played last season, but in a reserve capacity. In theory, he could also play a few snaps at nose, if the team wanted to go small or play a pure 4-3 stack (all linemen playing one-gap). Bottom line: I stand by the Babin post, dammit.
1 I choose to believe that this is true.
2 Sam Adams would also play this role. Please come to Houston, Sam. Please?
3 I choose to believe that this is true, too.
