Kickoff - “Clever Title Goes Here” Edition

Typical Chrontardation.  Pancakes discusses the draft in terms of if/when we should take a QB.  (My answer: Somewhere after we take Brian Orakpo.) He also comments on how we need a large, space-eating DT.  Two questions:  Where have I heard that before over the last year and a half?  Does he not realize Frank Okam is on the team and that we’d be better off trying to develop him for at least a year or two before we draft another NT?

Boom!  Flame on, bitch! This article on no-name coaches succeeding with teams that were (more or less) shit last year saddens me.  And by “saddens me,” I mean “makes me want to light Richard Smith on fire.”  At least then, we’d accomplish two things:  1. See if Kubiak can succeed when not laden with defensive incompetence.  2. Yummy roasted marshmallows.

GreatManchild questionable for Sunday.  As is my sanity at this point.

Finally.  The following people, places and things can go fuck themselves:

  • The Tennessee Titans
  • The Dallas Cowboys
  • Ohio State
  • Sage RosenFAILs
  • Jared Allen
  • Fans of any of the above-mentioned, not that I expect there are many who can read this.
  • People who write checks at places that accept debit cards.  Greetings from the future, fucknut.
  • People who use “literally” when they don’t mean it.  Oh, you “LITERALLY” died when she said that?  No, you didn’t.  Fuck you.
  • Richard Smith, but only if he’s fucking himself with a thermos wrapped in razor wire.
  • The person in front of me at Starbucks yesterday who was telling the coffee-serving fuck all about her date and then got annoyed at me when I suggested that she “save that crap for when there’s no one else in line, hon.”
  • Also, the coffee-serving fuck for having an attitude after I cut that conversation short.  Shut your scone-hole and get me a goddamned overpriced cup of shitty coffee.  And smile about it.

Random Gratuitous Picture Intended Mainly For My Buddy, Rendhel

On the strong side

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

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.

Chris Palmer, unfiltered

Just for fun, some quotes about Zoolander from Giants camp. (h/t Rendhel)

QB coach Chris Palmer had a few interesting thoughts on QB David Carr today:
*On his happy feet: “He’s a talented young man, he’s very athletic, he runs very well, he has a strong arm. But he’s just got to settle down in the pocket.”

Translation: He looks like a QB, but he’s dancing around and getting all skittish even in camp, where he should know he can’t get hit. The fuck is wrong with this dude? Christ, why me? I thought I’d escaped this sonofafuck already. Why does God hate me? Why?!?

*On his mind: “Like a lot of young guys, they lose their confidence and how fast can you come back from that? I think he’s starting to have a little success, he’s starting to understand what Tom wants from the quarterback position. If we can keep him in rhythm, keep him balances and not in a hurry to flush from the pocket, he’ll be fine.”

Translation: He’s one of those weak-willed douchebags we used to kick the shit out of in high school. At least he didn’t curl up and die like a botched D-and-C today; that’s success, right? Maybe we can get him to do a regular five-step drop tomorrow and, if I am really lucky, he’ll actually stand in and deliver a throw instead of running away, screaming.  Yep…that’d be awesome.  At least that’s what I will tell myself as I lie awake in bed tonight. Why did we cut Jared Lorenzen again? [weeps]

*On his low arm angle, which has been an issue since he was drafted: “It’s a little bit lower than it was (when Palmer was the Texans’ offensive coordinator). We talk about that all the time. He’s got a very quick release, he’s got a strong arm. He’s getting in a stage in his life when he’s going to start hurting his elbow or start hurting his shoulder if he doesn’t become more mechanically sound. But he’s got pretty good whip as far as throwing the ball. He’s got such a strong arm, he has so much torque in his body that he gets it out there, but at some point that torque is going to tighten up on him and he’s going to have trouble with his shoulder and his elbow.”

Translation: Wait…what the fuck?!? This guy couldn’t quarterback a pop warner team and you are asking me about his goddamned arm angle?!? Jesus Christ, that’s like standing at Auschwitz and asking about Hitler’s mustache. There are much bigger problems than his fucking motion. [contemplates suicide]

*On why he started dropping his arm: “Because you get away from your mechanics. If you’re a golfer, why do you hit a ball on the driving range and then go out on the course and it doesn’t do the same thing? You just have to continue to work on it, you have to put things in front of him and make him throw over. You can do those things to get him back in stride.”

Translation: I am this close to killing everyone in this room.  I shit you not.  I will murder each and every one of you.  “Dropping arm.”  The fucking nerve you have.  I AM AN NFL COACH; I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS!!!

Wow. Just…wow.

I like Kris Brown as much as a guy can like a kicker, I suppose.  I mean, I have no ill will toward him or anything, so he’s got that going for him.  Which is nice.

That said, if this was real, I would gladly kill him if Shaun Suisham suddenly wanted to placekick in the Bayou City.

Jesus balls, that is amazing.  Though…really…doesn’t it kind of remind you of those Mike Vick / LeBron James PowerAde commercials?

A revised look at 4-3 defensive theory

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,WeaverMaddox, 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.

Bentleysutra

Will Demps: Man…this is some shit. How the fuck is Will Demps supposed to win this competition? Will Demps has to think of something.

(thinks of himself, naked on a bearskin rug, making love to a woman who looks like him)

No, no…Will Demps has to think of something different.

(thinks of himself masturbating to the thought of himself masturbating)

Goddamnit. There has to be a way. How can Will Demps get some sweet Rhonda Kubiak nappy and win this bet? Will Demps HAS to win…if only there was, like, a god or something that could just make her fall in love with Will Demps.

(thunder)

(lightning)

(suspicious-smelling smoke)

(peacock scream)

(porn music)

Kama, Riding his bitches

Demps: What in the motherfuck is THAT?!

Kama, Hindu God of Desire: Hello, there, young William.

Demps: The fuck?!

Kama: Young squire, I am Kama, the Hindu god of desire. I am here to help you win this bet.

Demps: Yo, dawg…your skin is, like, green and shit.

Kama: Yes, but that is not important. For, you see–

Demps: And, hold up…that’s not an elephant; that’s a buncha hoes crammed together to LOOK like an elephant!! How in the sweet fuck did you do THAT?!

Kama: My appearance is not important, William. What is important is that I can help you win this bet of which you speak. I am the god of desire and, when I shoot my arrows, I can make people fall in love.

Demps: Like cupid?

Kama: No, not like cupid! Cupid is a faggy little cherub who ripped off my game! Does cupid have a Bitchephant like I do? Does cupid get down with, like, 100 hoes a day? DOES CUPID HAVE A SEX BOOK DERIVED FROM HIS MOTHERFUCKING NAME?!?!

(takes deep breath)

I apologize, William. I should not yell. That is just a rather sensitive subject. I blame Hallmark. ANYWAY…as I was saying, I can help you. All I need is some information and the bet will be yours. Now, who is the target?

Demps: Rhonda Kubiak.

Kama: Easy enough. Hell, getting a 40-year-old white woman with a workaholic husband to fall for you will hardly require any effort at all.  I think I shall use one of my weaker arrows, as there is no need to expend a great deal of energy completing such a menial task as this.  Say, who are you competing with in this wager of love?

Demps: Kevin.

Kama: Kevin? You mean Kevin Bentley?! Oh, shit, dude…even I can’t compete with that pretty motherfucker. Have you SEEN the dick on him?!? Praise Ganesh!

Demps: Hold up, man! Will Demps can compete! Will Demps just need a little help…

Kama: Fuck that…you’re on your own. Let’s go, Bitchephant!

(disappears to the sounds of Barry White)

A dog’s got personality. Personality goes a long way.

It is not much of an exaggeration to say that I have seen Pulp Fiction at least 500 times. My freshman-year roommate had a copy (VHS, baby!) stolen from Blockbuster, which we watched almost daily for that entire year, and I’ve continued to watch it more frequently than any other movie over the past decade. I am reasonably sure this says something about me, but I’m not sure what it is.1

Anyway…I mention this as background because, by this point, you’d think nothing could surprise me in that film. You’d be wrong.

So, here’s the deal. When the guy who looks somewhat like Jerry Seinfeld comes out of the bathroom and shoots at Vince and Jules, why in the hell did he have that gun in the bathroom with him in the first place?

Hear me out–clearly, Brett and “Flock of Seagulls” were not expecting Marsellus’ guys to show up at that instant, as they were enjoying Big Kahuna Burgers2 and just otherwise chilling. Seagulls was lying on the couch and, one assumes, did not have a gun within easy reach. Brett, likewise, was seemingly unarmed. The look of terror on both of their faces suggests that, had they been expecting a visit from Jules and Vince, they would certainly have been armed and ready to shoot for their lives. I mean, Brett seems to know from the moment Marvin opens the door that he is probably going to die. If you had ripped off a crime kingpin and were expecting hitmen to show up and kill you, would you be more likely to sit and eat burgers or arm yourself and prepare to shoot back?

Besides, on top of the surprise factor, you have the size of the gun. It was, as Vincent pointed out, “a goddamned hand cannon.” Such a gun is not the type that someone would have cavalierly tucked in his waistband, nor was he wearing a holster. So basically, logic dictates that he either picked up the gun and carried into the bathroom or the gun was already in the bathroom. Neither of these situations really makes sense to me. On the one hand, if Brett and Seagulls were not expecting Vince and Jules to arrive, there’s no reason to think Guy in Bathroom would have suspected it enough to carry a large handgun into the crapper. Likewise, I can see no reason why that gun would already be in the bathroom considering the people out in the living room did not have guns within easy reach.

By now, you are probably thinking “what the hell does this have to do with football?” Simple: I had been blindly accepting the situation as it was presented to me, when I should have been considering the context. Because, once you consider the context, some things that seem to make sense really don’t.3

Which brings me (finally) to the draft.

Over the past days and weeks, many people have come to grips with the idea that the Texans are probably taking a CB with the 18th pick in the draft. On the surface, where you have an injured Dunta Robinson; a horrid Petey Faggins; a possibly-horrid Jacques Reeves; and are relying on a second-year corner and a veteran sex machine safety, it would seem logically sound to take a corner and hope to improve your atrocious secondary. It would seem that way until you really consider the context.

Right now, you can easily claim that our holes on defense are NT, DE2, CB2, SLB, and (possibly) SS. Of those holes, CB2 is the one where we have already spent the most cap space this offseason, albeit on a guy who might not be able to cover me for 4 seconds. Does it make sense to use your draft pick on a guy who play the same position as the guy you just overpaid for?

But that’s not even the biggest issue.

The fact is, a great defensive line can make a suspect secondary look average to good for multiple games in a season. A fantastic secondary can make an average D-line look good a couple times per game. Partly, this is because of the nature of the rules that allow WRs to play virtually untouched. But it is also due in no small part to the logistics of what the positions are asked to do. Your defensive line exists to get to the QB (or RB), correct? Well, they know where the QB is going to be once the ball is snapped. Defensive backs, on the other hand, are asked to cover someone with no clue as to where he is going or what path he will take to get there. This means that even the best CBs are going to get beat on a long enough timeline. SO–and I know you see where I am going with this–you can improve your secondary just as much by drastically shortening the length of time you ask them to cover as by upgrading your cornerbacks.

Hell, this year’s Super Bowl Champion New York Giants are an embodiment of this principle. Their monster defensive line was able to consistently get pressure on opposing QBs. Because of this, the Giants were able to survive with subpar linebackers (Pierce is a good player, but his main strength is in leadership and getting the D set correctly; Mitchell is a smart player and a sure tackler but is nothing special; and Torbor is notably below average, but tough) and an average defensive backfield. Corey Webster looks like he turned it around, but he still isn’t very good yet. Aaron Ross looked very good for a rookie, but Gibril Wilson is at best good (in terms of skills he’s probably comparable to a healthy Will Demps, maybe very slightly better) and James Butler more or less stinks.

Yet, despite having a back seven that was basically average, the Giants defense looked absolutely dominant at times–including against the Patriots–because they were able to get after opposing QBs on a regular basis. This is not a novel concept, really. And, given the choice, I would almost always rather go into a season with three great defensive lineman than with 2 great defensive linemen and a great DB. And, hell, with Ryans and Greenwood behind a line similar to the Giants, even Petey Faggins would seem decent at cornerback.

*Pauses to consider the implications of that last sentence. Shudders.*

WHICH (finally) brings me to my bigger point. Namely that, if we are drafting defense in the first round or third round, we should be looking for a defensive tackle or a speedy defensive end or–shockingly–both. I mean, clearly someone in Texans management thought that Reeves could play or else they wouldn’t have signed him. You want to make that signing make sense? Then put together a front four that can limit how long he has to cover. The kid has fantastic speed, but his instincts and coverage skills are not all that amazing. Ask him to cover for 2.5 seconds instead of 4.5 and his speed/quickness should be able to overcome his technique/skills. Unless, that is, someone thought it prudent to give $8MM guaranteed for a nickel corner. Which I choose to believe no one in our front office is stupid enough to do.

[Author's note: I realize that some of this--ok, fine, much of this--is a rehashing of the philosophy I've been espousing since the end of the season. I was pushing for a NT at that time and, for the most part, my position hasn't changed. I have only amended it to say that I would be nearly as happy with a solid DE and that the only CB I would be willing to change my opinion for would be the mutant Rodgers-Cromartie.]

Who, then, should we be looking at? I’m glad you asked. Two names that immediately jump out to me are Brian Johnston and Kentwan Balmer.

Last one first, let’s take a look at Balmer, since most of you have probably heard of him. A 6-5, 308 DT out of UNC, Balmer posted 59 tackles (33 solos), including 3.5 sacks, 9.5 TFL, and four quarterback pressures. Balmer was solid against the run in general, allowing 1.69 yards/carry on his 55 running stops. The one knock I would have against him is that he is about 15 lbs lighter (minimum) than I would like out of my NT, but that is countered by the fact that he is strong (33 reps) and explosive (29 in. vertical jump). Even better for our purposes, Balmer is currently projected to go in the late first/early second, meaning he should be available at 18. Speaking of that 18th pick, I think even if most teams have Balmer slotted at 25-30, we should be willing to reach a little if we find a guy we really want because of the lack of a second rounder.

The other guy I mentioned, Brian Johnston, might be unfamiliar to many of you. That’s what happens when you go to Gardner-Webb and don’t get a combine invite. Of course, after reading about his tryout in front of some NFL scouts, maybe he should have been invited.

Measuring in at 6-foot-5, 274 pounds, Johnston ran his first 40-yard dash in 4.66 seconds. Johnston’s 40-yard dash time would have been the fourth best at the NFL combine for defensive ends, and the best for any lineman weighing more than 260 pounds.

Johnston’s most impressive stat from the 40-yard dash came with a very strong 1.51-second time through the first 10 yards, an important time with regards to a players quickness. By comparison, Johnston’s 10-yard split was the same as Arkansas’ running back Darren McFadden turned in at the Combine earlier this year.

The most impressive result overall, however, may have been Johnston’s time in the 20-yard shuttle. He turned in a 4.18-second time, which is better than any lineman at the NFL’s Scouting Combine. In fact, the 4.18-second time was faster than any running back at the event - with Illinois’ Rashard Mendenhall the only back to match that time.

So, yeah…I’d say he fits the definition of a speed-rushing DE. Now, I know some of you are likely saying “ACK! Workout warrior from a small school! Babin! BABIN!!!” That’s fair. But let’s not forget that Babin was a college 4-3 DE drafted to play OLB in an NFL 3-4. Going forward was never a problem for him; it was sideline to sideline and dropping into TE coverage that killed him. In Johnston’s case, you would be drafting a college 4-3 DE speed-rusher to play NFL 4-3 DE speed-rusher. And, because Mario and Okoye occupy the extra blockers, he’d be going one-on-one with o-linemen most of the time. That’s always nice when you are lightning-fast.

ANYWAY, I am just spitballing here. If the word around the campfire is to be believed, we will take someone like Aqib Talib at 18 and then a RB in the third. And I’ll deal with it, even if I don’t think it is the right approach. And, hell, maybe I get kinda lucky and we take Talib (or whomever) in the first but still snag Johnston in the third. Regardless, until Draft Day, I am just going to keep doing my best to shepherd the weak through the valley of darkness.4

1 That’s not entirely true. I think it says that I liked the movie when it was (a) popular, (b) cliched, (c) ironic, and (d) suggestive that I am getting old.

2 That IS a tasty burger!

3 On the flip-side, some things that seem utterly inexplicable–say, the selection of Mario Williams over Reggie Bush–make perfect sense once you consider the context. While some things–say, the popularity of Mambo No. 5–remain inexplicable regardless of how much you ponder them.

4 And to not shoot Marvin in the face.