Three Cups Deep: NFC Champion Detroit Lions To Host Second Playoff Game

The zero-degree chill is once again palpable through every window in my house, the furnace churning almost constantly to stave it off. A bright blue car sits frozen over in my driveway, just as one did when I started this blog fifteen years and two weeks ago.

But I'm not out in the frigid snow, hacking the ice off the driver door. I'm not wrenching the key trying to get the engine to turn over, nor listening to David "Mad Dog" DeMarco on local AM radio while the car, and my fingers, un-freeze. Because while Detroit Lions history has repeated and rhymed over and over again in the decade since I last posted, everything—everything—has changed.

I work full-time from home. I can warm my electric Ford up all toasty with a button in an app on my phone. Mad Dog retired and moved someplace sunny. And the sputtering little blue flame, the spirit of Lions fandom I swore to keep alive, is burning more brightly than it has in generations—so brightly, the whole NFL-watching world is in awe: 

If you see what's happening in Detroit tonight, you should never again question why a fan says "we."

— Luke Easterling (@LukeEasterling) January 15, 2024

In the utter, freezing bleakness of 0-16, the hiring of Jim Schwartz and drafting of Matthew Stafford gave Lions fans something to pin our hopes to. When they made the playoffs in their third season, I was already struggling to balance posting here with professional sportswriting opportunities, my full-time day job, and three small kids. By the time the wheels fell off the Schwartz regime, I was a National NFL Lead Writer for Bleacher Report.

I would never hide where I got my start—and even if I wanted to, I couldn't. But blogging about being the One True Eternal Fan of one NFL team while covering the league for one of the biggest sports sites in the world wasn't just a bad look. It was fundamentally incompatible.

When you're watching and re-watching nearly every game, and writing an on-deadline reaction column for two of them, twice a seek? It's a lot harder to think your team is uniquely bad (or good). When you regularly interview active players, coaches, agents, and executives, it teaches you a whole lot about the game you didn't know. And when you spend three years co-hosting a SiriusXM show with a Hall of Fame voter who's been covering the league full-time since you were "wearing Barry Sanders pajamas," as Jason Cole more-or-less rightfully used to tease me about, you learn a whole lot about how the league works.

Talking with Lions fans felt more and more like speaking in translation, a way of thinking it took effort to adopt. Writing about the NFL full-time was my dream job, and I had it; participating in Lions fandom was starting to feel like work.

Schwartz's firing felt like a natural place to let the sun stay set on TLiW forever. I titled that last post "Plus Ça Change, Plus C’est La Même Chose": The more things change, the more they stay the same.

But things did change, and stayed changéd.

Bleacher Report got acquired by Turner Broadcasting not long after I started there. Not long after that, they started firing writers in waves. They hired in big-name talents, and built out expensive new video facilities in Manhattan. I could see the writing on the wall: B/R was pivoting away from expert analysis and written opinion towards a video-heavy, social-first, branding-and-vibes-based operation.

I went out and got cool freelance gigs at VICE Sports and FiveThirtyEight. I interviewed for the Lions beat writer position at new startup The Athletic, which turned into some great feature assignments and a couple years of podcasting. OddsShark invited me in to their stable of betting experts, and I finished in the money in the Westgate SuperContest. I did some TV and culture writing, recapping Shark Tank for The Comeback. I even interviewed for the dream-job-of-dream-jobs, a full-time NFL writer position at Sports Illustrated—and actually made it all the way to the end of the process before losing out to Jonathan Jones (who, to be clear, deserved it).

By the time B/R actually let me go, I thought I could make full-time freelancing work.

Not only couldn't I do it, I started trying at a time in media where practically no one can.

USA TODAY Sports Media Group brought me on to launch the Lions edition of their new blog network, Lions Wire. I'd always wanted to try editing a professional site, and I thought going back to day-to-day Lions coverage would be fun and rewarding.

But new Lions GM Bob Quinn seemed to be drafting for the 2016 New England Patriots, while Jim Caldwell was still trying to coach the 2010 Indianapolis Colts. Watching Matthew Stafford sacrifice his body and hamstring his game to run schemes that weren't working with less-talented players than the ones Schwartz and Martin Mayhew had drafted was painful. And trying to do great work for a media company that wanted fast work was killing me.

I was either frantically writing, or one Tweet away from having to go frantically write, basically every waking moment of the day. I was trying to recruit promising early-career writers to write for me for free, even as I spoke out more and more loudly against the devaulation of writers' labor. I had three kids, I owned a house, and all my gigs added up together were nowhere near enough money to make ends meet. It was untenable. It was unbearable.

As Jim Caldwell's iteration of the eternal Lions cycle of hope and failure came to an end, I started looking for IT work.

Having an actual paycheck, and actual health insurance, gave me the time and space to be the husband and father my family needed me to be. To focus on my badly neglected physical and mental health, playing and refereeing soccer to get in shape—and hey, it turns out naming The Lions in Winter's Monday-morning blog series "Three Cups Deep" because I needed three cups of coffee to focus enough to write should have tipped me off about the undiagnosed ADHD!

That safety and security also gave me time and space to start writing what I wanted, when I wanted to.

I wrote three non-ficition kids' books, sold to school libraries by an actual-factual New York City publisher. I wrote a YA fantasy novel, the second draft of which I'm well into revising. I got back into drumming, playing in the pit for shows all around town. I'm currently developing a podcast about old video-game magazines, and how (for better and worse) they inspired lots of writers like me. I started "Gimme Schalter," a free newsletter that has 400 subscribers—and hey, if you're reading this, you should subscribe!

I'd thought the Lions would never hire a coach who "got it" the way Schwartz did, but then they went and hired a guy, Dan Campbell, who was literally on the winless Lions roster that inspired me to start this blog.

Watching him and GM Brad Holmes team actually make great decisions on draft day and in free agency, develop young players, brilliantly manage their staff, truly dismantle a toxic culture and build a tough, smart, exciting team that's fun to root for has been incredible. And I spent two years saying 2023 would be the year we found out about Brad Holmes and Dan Campbell; the year interesting potential became a reality to be judged.

But this spring, Disney laid off many of my FiveThirtyEight colleagues and closed their entire sports operation. Part of me wanted to run out and line up some gigs; maybe some of my friends in Lions media would have me on part-time? But I realized I had an opportunity to watch and enjoy NFL games without anyone paying me to cover them for the first time in 15 years—just as Campbell's Lions were going to be the best squad to wear Honolulu Blue since I wore Barry Sanders pajamas. 

I took it.

Of course, I'd never stopped watching the Lions, cheering for them to win, and being disappointed when they lost. It's been a blast being able to try and enjoy this season as nothing more, officially, than a fan. But, as I already knew, 15 years of covering this game for money has changed me forever.

Even as I consume much of the great work being done by my former Lions-writing colleagues and peers, I'm still not really surfing the hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute cycle of emotions and discourse that one-team superfans swim in. I can't un-see the game from a 30,000-foot perspective, I can't un-learn the things I know about how the league, and I can't feel Lions feelings without the compartmentalized detachment of somebody who still needs to be thought of as a respectable professional in the morning.

I've spent weeks looking around in thrilled wonder as everyone around me here in Lansing is buying and wearing new Lions gear, but I waited until my niece got me the "It's A Lock" shirt for Christmas to rock anything new myself. At the watch party I went to last night, I cheered and hollered and clapped and gripped like everyone else, but I was also looking up NextGenStats and trying to confirm I was right about second-round playoff scenarios. 

I wish I could say that I cried when Jared Goff started taking those knees—but it would be with the sincere-yet-false affect of someone placidly replying "lololol, doubled over belly-laughing, actually gasping for breath" to their friend about the really funny video they just texted.

Seeing all the fans on the TV and friends in the room with me and mutuals and strangers on my Twitter feed crying and woo-ing and living for this moved me, awed me, delighted me like nothing else. I saw the post-game interviews with Goff and Stafford and I felt feelings. I replied to congratulatory replies and DMs and texts and felt feelings.

But nine-year-old me would have cried at so many droughts having ended, so many curses and hexes and narratives being slain: 32 years since a playoff win, 30 years since a home playoff game, Super Bowl Champion Matthew Stafford coming back to the team he left, his wife Kelly again causing Lions drama online, the refs inventing incredible new ways to screw over Detroit, Jared Goff beating the team that gave up on him with the God-forsaken franchise he was "exiled" to. Maybe twenty-nine-year-old me might have cried at the relief of all those ghosts being put to rest, too.

Or maybe, twenty-nine-year-old me would have had in the back of his head the same thing I had in the back of mine: That is not the time for the big celebration. That this squad can, and should, go farther. That there are a few more milestones left to hit, and they might hit them. A few more mountains left to climb, and they might climb them.

That this is the first historic win of Dan Campbell's Lions head-coaching career, but it is by no means going to be the last.

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plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

...in black and white.

Five years and one day ago, I had to go to work.

The temperature was bone-chilling, the snow and ice encrusted everything. Ten soul-searing minutes of bitter cold and grunty sweat, chipping and chipping away at the entombed, lifeless husk of my car. In the frozen darkness, I cranked and cranked the engine of my brand-new Pontiac Vibe; the cold refused to let its little Toyota heart beat.

Finally, the engine turned over, and the radio blurted sports talk Lions angry.

When I got to work I signed up at Blogger.com, sliced open a vein, and bled onto the keyboard:

On this morning, the morning, the morning where the Lions are now officially the worst team in the history of professional football, I have never been more ashamed, despressed, dejected, and disgusted to be a Lions fan. And yet—I am suprised and pleased to discover that I am still a Lions fan. Despite the snow and wind and bitter, bitter cold, a little blue flame still dances and flickers on the ashes of what was once a roaring fire. So . . . now what?

"What" turned out to be the five most incredible years of my life. I saw my children grow from toddlers and infants to 'tweens and elementary-schoolers. My soul-searching became an unpaid part-time job, a hobby that consumed my lunch breaks and post-bedtime hours. My wife became my editor, counselor and career coach. My friends became my sounding boards, and tech consultants. Anyone who shared cider with all of us around the little blue flame became a comrade-in-arms.

The Lions in Winter became everything I'd wanted it to be, more quickly and more grandly than I'd ever dreamed possible. From the coaching search, to the draft, to The Watchtower and Three Cups Deep, to—of course—the Fireside Chats, the crowd that gathered around the blue bonfire swelled and cheered and roared and drank and high-fived and basked in the glory as the Lions went from 0-16 to 10-6 and the playoffs in just three seasons.

When Jim Schwartz assembled his Fellowship, there was cause for excitement and cause for concern. I was particularly revolted by the Linehan hire. When he actually started coaching his team, though, I immediately knew he was the perfect coach for the Lions at the perfect time.

Jim Schwartz embraced the City of Detroit in a way I didn't think possible. "We plan on being in Detroit for a while," Schwartz told Terry Foster. "When my kids grow up, I want them to tell people they are from Detroit." Whoever the Lions hire next won't say that.

Schwartz took his three top rookies—Matthew Stafford,  Brandon Pettigrew, and Louis Delmas—to the Dearborn Truck Assembly Plant for a two-hour meet-and-greet with workers.

"The other day, Dominic Raiola talked about how he fell in love with the city," Schwartz told Foster. "He said how much he loves the people and I thought it was important for these guys to experience the same feel and things like that. We did not want cameras there because we thought it would have ruined the whole dynamic of it." Whoever the Lions hire next won't do that.

Schwartz snuck into bars during the hockey playoffs to get a feel for the Detroit sports fans. I can't find the story now, but I remember that while celebrating a particularly big Red Wings victory, a fan turned to Schwartz and said "When the Lions win, it'll be better than this." Whoever the Lions hire next won't understand this.

Here is a thing Schwartz said during his first training camp:

"It's hard to be angry at me, so I generally don't get that that. I don't know the best way to put it ... they're guardedly optimistic. I think when you put yourself out there, the way you do when you're a fan, when you expose your soul to rooting for your team and you get hurt time and time again, sometimes you have a tendency to hold back and not put yourself out as much. and not become as, you know, I don’t know a good way to put it, but not become as  . . . fanatical a fan.  Is that redundant?  “Fanatical a fan”?  But the one thing is, they keep stepping up.  They’re true football fans in this city; they’re excited about it.  Everywhere I go, I get positive, positive feelings from the fans here.”

Whoever the Lions hire next sure as hell won't say that. Is it any wonder that I ordered up a double of Lions Kool-Aid just before the 2011 season?

The Lions' next coach is also not likely to give a game ball to the fans, which Schwartz did after the greatest night of Lions fandom in living memory. He led the Lions to respectability, he led them to the playoffs, and he led Lions fans everywhere to rekindle their love of the team. At the season-ticket holder town hall meeting prior to the 2012 season, I walked out convinced that the Lions had one of the best decision-making groups in the NFL. I knew Jim Schwartz was the right coach for the Detroit Lions.

Then, of course, came 4-12, and a well-deserved reputation for on- and off-field misbehavior. Schwartz, like the rest of us, utterly lacked solutions to the sudden problems. In one offseason, the Lions went from lovable winners to unlovable losers; even the strongest among us had our faith tested.

Though there were perfectly good explanations for everything and nothing was ever quite anyone's fault, nothing quite got fixed either.

From Titus Young's mental health issues to Jahvid Best's medically forced hiatus, everything that had been coming together quickly fell apart. There was little beauty or joy in anything, and the ironclad assurance we had that Schwartz knew what he was doing and Stafford was en route to being the greatest Lions quarterback of all time.

...okay, that's a low enough bar for Stafford to jump over that he's nearly already there at the age of 25, but Schwartz's brilliance became know-it-all-ness, and then insufferable arrogance as he not only refused to fix the problems on the field, but acknowledge they even existed.

Even as this season, the Lions' rivals all but sent them an engraved invitation to a  twenty-years-in-the-making NFC North championship, Schwartz refused to address anything that was going wrong. Possession after possession, game after game, the Lions kept blowing chances and missing opportunities. Schwartz's bizarre, delusional insistence that 20 teams would switch positions with them after they blew their last chance at clinching a playoff berth was hard to swallow.

I still thought that Schwartz should be given one more chance, right up until halftime of the game against the Giants. When the Lions had one, last, final, last chance to salvage the playoffs, facing a subpar team with nothing to play for, and sleepwalked their way to a 13-3 halftime deficit, that tore it.

The players would no longer listen to Schwartz, or play for Schwartz. He was no longer the right coach.
Now the search for a coach begins again, and many have asked me for my thoughts on who the Lions should hire. The short answer, "the right coach," isn't satisfying, so here's the long version.

Head coaches come in all different sizes, shapes, colors and kinds. Everyone wants the "hot" candidate, the brilliant schematic innovator making guacamole out of guano as a coordinator or college coach. But that guy—a Kevin Sumlin—is in short supply after a run on them last season, and that "hot" candidate isn't always the right guy.

There's a lot more to being a coach than being a rockstar at the whiteboard; just ask Charlie Weis and Mike Leach about how a "decided schematic advantage" trumps everything else. Just as in any other profession, coaching talent is not the same as coaching ability; some of the best head coaches in the NFL excel at things other than Xs and Os.

Head coaches are part of a franchise's senior management; they're executives who set the tone and direction of a franchise, guide the lower-level managers in tactics and strategy, interface with public and community relations staff and run a lot of meetings. Not to mention work dieticians, strength and conditioning coaches, facilities and maintenance folks...
Sometimes, being good at those things is more important to the success of a football team than wowing a packed coaching conference with your brilliant new playbook wrinkles.

Jim Schwartz was the right coach; the right coach at the right time. He was smart and firey, innovative and inspirational, built a base of talent around philosophies designed to dominate the next ten years of football and reconnected the soul of the franchise to the soul of its fans. He just couldn't handle all the other stuff.

Now, the Lions need a coach who can lead a championship-ready roster to a championship... ideally, one who's done it before.
I've said multiple times that the Lions should pursue Brian Billick. He's not "hot," he's not "sexy" and he's not a brilliant schematic innovator. He is a brilliant, well-spoken football mind with championship credibility and tons of experience. He's broadcast a lot of Lions games, and you can almost hear him salivating over the chance to work with that kind of talent.

Yes, he's a "retread," but if you take a look around at today's NFL, you'll see many of the most successful coaches are on their second or third stop. Bill Belichick, Pete Carroll, Andy Reid, John Fox... sometimes, it seems, you can't be a great NFL coach without having failed at it.

Sure, there's a lightning-in-a-bottle college guy like Chip Kelly, and "hot" coordinators like Sean Payton, that have been just as successful. But those guys went to places with perfect talent for their system (and not accidentally). The Lions have offensive talent that should be able to execute darn near any system... what they need help with is the preparation, focus and discipline required to execute.

I'll always be sad that Schwartz wasn't the coach to take the Lions to the Super Bowl, just as I'll always be sad that Steve Mariucci couldn't bring the Lions back to respectability. Ironically, Schwartz succeeded where Mariucci failed, and Mariucci's skill set might be perfect for leading these Lions to the Promised Land.

Now, I have to go to work. My job, thanks in part to the success of this blog, which was due in part to the success of Jim Schwartz, is to write about football for a living. I do my job in the warmth of my house, in my padded leather chair, even in toasty flannel pants if I feel like it. The real ice outside has never fallen more thickly or harshly, though, and Winter in the Lions-y sense hasn't been this cold in a long, long time. I may have to bust out the To Whom it May Concern series, and the "the coaching search" tag again.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Fortunately, thanks to the the work Jim Schwartz has done, and the work of everyone who reads this blog, the blue flame of Lions fandom still burns brightly. People still proudly wear Lions gear, still happily sell out games, and still tweet support and kind words to all of their favorite players.

Lions fans answered Schwartz's challenge, and the Lions organization met our expectations in return. Now, though, expectations of the fans, front office and owners are much higher, and Schwartz is a victim of his own success. Maybe when it's his turn to be a "retread," he'll finally finish what he started.

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Fireside Chat: Post-Fiasco Meltdown/Breakdown

Video streaming by Ustream

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Would-be Kings, Under the Mountain

On the third morning Caradhras rose before them, a mighty peak, tipped with snow like silver, but with sheer naked sides, dull red as if stained with blood.

 There was a black look in the sky, and the sun was wan. The wind had gone now round to the north-east. Gandalf snuffed the air and looked back.

 `Winter deepens behind us,' he said quietly to Aragorn. 'The heights away north are whiter than they were; snow is lying far down their shoulders. Tonight we shall be on our way high up towards the Redhorn Gate. We may well be seen by watchers on that narrow path, and waylaid by some evil; but the weather may prove a more deadly enemy than any. What do you think of your course now, Aragorn?'

In the 2001 movie The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, the Fellowship attempt to pass beyond Caradhras and are foiled when Saruman, the corrupted wizard, conjures a brutal snowstorm.

In the book it is the mountain itself that turns back the Nine with heavy snow and falling rocks, possibly possessed by a shadowy evil of "the Enemy," Sauron. With the sun-lit way closed to them, the Fellowship are forced to proceed under the mountain—through the dark, deep, deadly mines of Moria.

In last Sunday's all-consuming blizzard, the Lions were turned back by the inclement weather, the Philadelphia Eagles, and their own mistakes. Another afternoon of head-slapping fumbles, blooper-reel mistakes and missed opportunities was punctuated by a complete and total defensive collapse.

It's tempting to write off the loss as a freak occurrence of nature, and yet both teams had to play in that snow.

The Eagles fumbled just once that day; the Lions seven times. Matthew Stafford physically could not throw deep enough to find an often-open Calvin Johnson; Nick Foles had no trouble throwing to (even overthrowing) DeSean Jackson.

These are freak occurrences, except they happen every week. They lead to unfortunate losses that have nothing to do with fortune. The Lions have thrown away possession after possession, drive after drive, opportunity after opportunity, game after game—and now the easy road is closed to them.

I've invoked the imagery of Gandalf facing the Balrog once before on this blog, and now it seems applicable again: There is evil in this football world against which Stafford and these young Lions have not yet been tested, and they are going to have to defeat it, toe-to-toe, from here on out.

In the dark of night, the Lions will face the Baltimore Ravens on Monday Night Football.

It's fitting that they'll play a team named after an ill omen. It's fitting that they'll be playing until midnight, or nearly so. They will have to take the deepest, darkest road of all to and through the playoffs: From tonight at midnight, through two more must-win games, then three playoff rounds—each more difficult than the last, likely against three foes against whom the Lions will be massive underdogs.

In order to scale to the top of the NFL mountain and claim the Lombardi trophy for their own, the Lions will have to play six consecutive games all but flawlessly. Given how they've played to date, that's asking the impossible.

Yet, that's what is asked of them. That is the task that lays before them. Anything less is failure, and failure of the quest at this point would likely mean the dissolution of the Fellowship—or at least, the coaching staff that has led the Lions to this point.

All of this blog, all of my personal and professional journey from fan tormented by unending disappointment to member of the Pro Football Writers of America, all of my time as keeper of the little blue flame of Lions fandom, all of it has come with this coach, this quarterback, this band of Lions united by a common quest: The top of the mountain, the Super Bowl championship, and the precious Ring that comes with it.

It's hard to say how much the success of this quest means to me, to you, and to all Lions fans everywhere, and now it stands on the edge of a knife. Waver but a little, and it will fall.

What is the true character of this coach, this quarterback, this team? They have the talent to fulfill their destiny, but have they the will? Have they the tenacity?

We find out tonight.

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Three Cups Deep: Sailing the Gravy Boat

It is December 2nd, and the Detroit Lions are in sole possession of first place in the NFC North.

They have a one-and-a-half-game lead over the Green Bay Packers, and a one-game lead (with head-to-head tiebreaker) over the Bears. The Lions face only one team with a winning record over their last four games, and basically have no good reason not to finish at least 10-6 (and 5-1 in division).

The Lions have just four short weeks and an ocean of gravy separating them from their first division title since 1993.

If you're reading, you know all this.

You also know the Lions destroyed the Packers, 40-10, for their first Thanksgiving win in a decade. You also know Matthew Stafford is rewriting the Lions record book, and Peter King just called Reggie Bush and Joique Bell "absolutely unequivocably" the best one-two tailback combo in the NFL.

I know that these Lions are still not good enough—not yet, anyway.

King also said this:

Detroit’s reward for earning the third seed in the NFC playoffs—if that’s where the Lions end up, and it’s no lock—would be one of the most rugged roads to the Super Bowl ever. Consider this possible slate: a Wild Card home game against San Francisco, a divisional game at New Orleans, a championship game at Seattle. Who survives that?

Not a team who's turned it over 25 times in 12 games, that's for sure. The Lions are ranked fifth in the NFL in scoring differential, racking up 27.2 points per game. Opposing teams are scoring an average of 23.9 points per game, ranked 18th. That gives them the ninth-best scoring differential in the NFL (3.2 points per game).

Now, imagine how many more points they'd be scoring, and how many fewer points they'd be allowing, if they weren't ending 16.9 percent of their offensive drives with a turnover.

Despite that mindblowing, field-flipping, win-preventing error rate, the Lions have still ended 35.8 percent of their drives with a score, 11th-best in the NFL. Only the New York Giants and New York Jets are coughing it up more frequently, yet the Lions statistically have a top-five offense and middle-of-the-pack defense.

As I've said several times here and at Bleacher Report, this team is not going to reach its limitless potential until Matthew Stafford, Calvin Johnson and Reggie Bush cut down on the mistakes.

For some reason, this has made my fellow Flamekeepers really, really mad at me.

"You can't put it on Matt," they say, before proferring excuses for why his habitually high, behind, late and too-hard passes keep getting getting intercepted off of deflections. "It's the coaches' fault for not preparing him correctly," they say. I do believe coaching factors into it, but I think it's more to do with their hesitance to throttle Stafford down than an Xs-and-Os problem.

Then we get deeper into the blame game: receivers, protection, playcalling, the defense. Look: Matthew Stafford has the best wide receiver in the world, a solid running game, the fifth-best pass protection in the NFL (per Pro Football Focus) and a defense that—more often than not—is keeping him in the game while he and the offense spend the first quarter in neutral.

Yet, he's ranked 27th in the NFL in completion rate, at a miserable 59.2 percent. He's throwing picks on 2.8 percent of his dropbacks, his worst rate since his rookie year. His 5.4 percent touchdown rate can't touch his 2011 or 2010 numbers, 6.2 and 6.3 percent respectively.

What, then, is the more rational statement:

A) Matthew Stafford needs to more consistently play up to the talent level that made him a No. 1 overall pick, earned him a big-money extension, and showed through in 2011 when he threw 41 touchdowns against 16 interceptions.

or

B) Brandon Pettigrew needs to play like Rob Gronkowski, Kris Durham needs to play like Calvin Johnson, and the Lions defense needs to play like the 2000 Ravens'.

If we could wave a magic wand and make either A or B come true, they'd have equal effect on the Lions' bottom line. Yet, if you're staring at these numbers and concluding B is the more reasonable non-Fairy-Godmother request, I don't know what to tell you.

"Well then, what do we do?" Lions fans ask me. "Fire the coach?"

Let's re-read that first sentence:

It is December 2nd, and the Detroit Lions are in sole possession of first place in the NFC North.

 No, we do not fire the coach. In fact, we—the fans—don't do anything at all. Nor, honestly, do I think the Lions need to consider making any major moves. If any shakeup needs to occur, it's in the QB coach/Offensive Coordinator department (As a fifth-year veteran, I'm no longer worried that any change there will stunt Stafford's development, especially since it seems to be stunting anyway).

No, what needs to happen is Matthew Stafford taking preparation, execution, and all the little things that make the difference between a good quarterback and great quarterback seriously. This team is built to win because of him, not in spite of him; until he fixes the fixable mistakes they won't do enough of the latter—especially not come the bitter cold of January.

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Boys of Summer, Men of Autumn

The purest expression of sports fandom can be found on elementary school playgrounds.

Still learning (and arguing over) the rules of the game as they play, kids merge their identity with the players they know and love from TV. Just as fights broke out over who got to be Barry Sanders or Cecil Fielder when I was a tyke, kids today call out "I'm Calvin Johnson!" or "I'm Miguel Cabrera!" when they take the ball field at recess.

They learn the game by mimicking the moves and styles of their favorite players. On the rare occasions they shake a defender with a jump-stop, or hit one over the playground fence into the scary old lady's yard, for an instant sports superstardom is their reality.

Since I was tiny, in sports—heck, in life—I've always been drawn to spectacular talent. I watch sports for many reasons, but there's nothing I love more about it than when a surpassing athlete deploys screw-you ability at a critical moment, defying physics and reality to win at will.

That's why I've always loved players like Dominik Hasek, Clint Dempsey and Barry Sanders--local allegiances aside. 

When I watch sports, I want my jaw dropped. I want to throw up my hands, shake my head and laugh out loud at the absurdity of the skill required to pull off what I just saw.

When I played youth sports, I wanted to drop jaws.

As a baseball playing tyke, I was very short, very thin, but pretty quick. For someone of my limited gifts, the only path to jaw-dropping baseball I saw was "infield glove wizard" in the mold of Ozzie Smith. 

I played wall ball for hours, honing my glove chops. I watched Johnny Bench's wierd baseball technique show for kids. I demanded my tee-ball coaching father play me at short, or MAYBE I'd deign to play second base. As soon as we were allowed to lead off and steal, I'd park my skinny white butt halfway between first and second and DARE pitchers to pick me off.  I decided to be a switch-hitter, because of course great utility infielders switch-hit, right?

Here's the thing: I was terrible.

I had no glove, and a horribly inconsistent  arm. I could throw to the first base region-ish, or I could throw ten feet short of the first baseman's waiting glove, and I was never sure which it was going to be. I had no instincts to where to go with the ball, turning every fielder's choice into Sophie's Choice.

My father, who typically coached the team, was remarkably patient with all this. I HAD talent, but I wasn't using it right. I had a good natural right-handed swing with relatively strong pop in the bat (though my small size usually meant I hit towering outs rather than towering home runs). 

One game, after several fruitless left-handed at-bats, I came up in the order with two runners on. Dad insisted I bat righty. On the first coach-pitched lob, I drilled it deep into the right-center gap--which, in fourth grade, might as well be the Atlantic Ocean.

I skipped around the bases, sticking a two-footed landing on home plate while my teammates cheered. Dad was waiting for me, and immediately grabbed me by the shoulders. He growled, "Look: Do you want to be DIFFERENT, or do you want to EXCEL?"

This is how I feel watching Matthew Stafford.

Watching this dude play football in my team's colors is a joy, a blessing and an honor. He has the talent to be as good as anyone is; to be his generation's John Elway. By the end of this season, he'll hold nearly every Lions passing record that matters; by the end of his current contract he'll hold all of them, period.

That's why it's so infuriating to watch him play.

As a grownup, as a father, as a bill-having taxpayer with a mortgage and insurance and all those stupid things, it drives me absolutely crazy to watch Stafford incompletely apply his incredible talent.

I've written, tweeted and spoken at lengths about his tendency to get cute with arm angles, get sloppy with his feet and miss critical passes. It was there in force on Sunday, as Stafford threw what seemed like 16 sidearm passes into the arms of the Bears defensive line. Game after game, week after week, we've seen Stafford miss wide-open receivers, tying one hand behind his back by going all Elway instead of just executing like he's clearly capable of doing.

We've also seen him win those games, coming back from the brink with one hand tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes, threading needles through double- and triple-coverage, making plays with his legs, and beating the Dallas Cowboys--his hometown team--with a jaw-dropping mix of natural quarterbacking talent and balls the size of his oversized brain.

When he and Calvin Johnson--together, the most talented QB/WR pair in the NFL--went to Solider Field and won for the first time in forever, it felt like the tipping point. It felt like the mountain had been climbed. It felt like Stafford and the Lions had finally realized the potential we've spent five years daydreaming about.

When Nick Fairley followed up a game-losing personal-foul penalty with a game-winning TFL, it hit me: these are the Lions.

Like Barry Sanders and negative yardage, like Dominik Hasek and the occasional four-goal brain fart, the Lions are always going to be a mix of pleasure and pain. They're going to beat themselves with sanity-testing mistakes and beat other teams with searing, unstoppable talent. They're going to turn blowouts into close shaves and close shaves into heart attacks.

You can't separate Stafford from sidearm, Johnson from bumps and bruises, Suh and Fairley from penalty flags or Schwartz from spending all week in the film room with a MacBook only to break it over his knee and throw the pieces at a ref on gameday.

As Jack Nicholson once shouted at a room full of mentally ill folks in the movie of the same name, "What if this is as good as it gets?"

There's snow on the ground in Michigan, and the Lions are effectively two games clear of the rest of the NFC North. They have one of the league's easiest schedules from here on out, and they fully control their path to their first division title since 1993, when my middle-school baseball coach told me I was a natural centerfielder and everything made sense.

There's no use denying it: I love this team, because of the rough edges as much of in spite of them. Nothing thrills me like seeing the impossible made possible; if the Lions have to do that every week just to overcome their own mistakes, so be it: my favorite team in sports is delivering heaping helpings of my favorite thing about sports, week after week.

What more could I ask for? What more could any of us ask for?

The other day, I walked into the living room to see my seven-year-old son playing Madden. "Dad," he excitedly said, "I built my Madden Ultimate Team!" Oh yeah, I asked, who's on it?

"Pretty much all the Lions, but with Aaron Rodgers," he said.

With this season just halfway over, I guess we can't hang a banner just yet. Stafford and the Lions haven't answered all the questions yet--and until they win a Super Bowl, they never will.

But right now, the Lions are different, AND they excel. Let's appreciate that.

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"Tactical Advantage" on Bleacher Report

I know, I know. It's been a while.

Once again, the Lions travel to the (perfectly balmy) tundra of Lambeau field, in an attempt to slay the green and gold dragon.

Over at Bleacher Report, I did a film breakdown of the Lions defense, and how it effectively slowed Aaron Rodgers last season, and how it could improve on those methods this season:

Something that surprised me was just how vanilla both units played, especially at Lambeau. Part of that, no doubt, was the weather, but both teams seemed more nervous to make a mistake than revved up to make a play.

Once the Packers got out of their (seemingly) scripted opening drive, which was ludicrously effective until Lawrence Jackson short-circuited it with a sack-fumble.

Speaking of which, Jackson--who had one of his best games as a Lion in this fixture last season--will be watching from home. In his place is (The Great) Willie Young, who got manhandled by Bryan Bulaga in the run game when rotating in for Jackson last year.

Young and Ansah, who'll have to contain Eddie Lacy instead of DuJuan Harris, probably hold the keys to this game. I have no doubt that Ansah is a pass-rushing upgrade from KVB, but if Lacy can control the ground game that shifts the dynamic considerably.

The one thing the Lions must, absolutely must do is hold on to the football. Stafford cannot throw an oopsie pick, or lose a snap. The margins on this game are slim, but--as I wrote at B/R, the upside for a Lions victory is enormous.

Presuming the Bears don't upset the Saints, the Lions taking one from the Pack would grant the Lions dominion over the NFC North; first place outright, a one-game lead on the Bears, two-and-a-half game lead on the Pack, all tiebreakers in hand and a sweep of the division half-completed.

Don't underestimate the power of a sword buried in the heart of that writhing dragon of a losing streak, either.

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Cross Road Blues

As the legend goes, Robert Johnson met the Devil himself at a crossroads, and sold his soul for the ability to play guitar like no one ever had. Though Johnson didn’t achieve worldwide fame and success until after his mysterious poisoning death, Johnson will reign as King of the Delta Blues for eternity.

A Faustian bargain made in a swirling mist of hoodoo, it’s an intoxicating tale that Johnson never shied away from—after all, it didn’t hurt from a marketing perspective. According to blues historian Robert McCormick (via Wikipedia, yeah what of it), Johnson’s friends and family believed Johnson’s death was divine retribution for making secular music instead of glorifying God with his talent.

Johnson, McCormick believes, accepted the idea of “selling his soul” as a metaphor for abandoning honest work and playing the blues full-time.

Last November, I made the same choice.

I accepted a full-time position with Bleacher Report as a National NFL Lead Writer. I continued working my day job full-time for weeks afterwards to handle the transition. Between that workload and my family life, I struggled to keep up TLiW.

For four years, I’d kept the blue flame burning while burning the midnight oil. The words written here were penned during lunch hours, stolen moments, and brain-melting early-morning sessions that often had me waking up to a darkened computer, both hands still on the keyboard.

Switching careers at 31—with a wife, three kids, two cats, a dog, a mortgage and two cars hanging in the balance—was not something I could afford to do halfway. TLiW is a labor of love, but owed my loved ones every ounce of my labor.

Old Mother Hubbard, Meet the Cubs, eulogies for the careers of Jeff Backus and Jason Hanson: these are all projects I sincerely meant to undertake and just… never… did.

This season, the Lions are at a crossroads of their own.

The 2013 iteration of the Detroit Lions made their preseason debut last night. Despite massive turnover on both the offensive and defensive lines, and shiny new toys on both sides of the ball, the 2013 model looked largely similar to the 2012 edition.

The Lions’ greatest flaw from last season—a total inability to cross the opponent’s 30-yard line in the first half—was there for all to see. The dominance of Stafford-to-Calvin, the not-dominance of just about every other Stafford-to-whomever combination, and the boom-or-bust running game looked spookily familiar (remember, Joique Bell hurdled fools last year).

The defensive line looked overwhelming, with Ziggy Ansah and Jason Jones combining with Suh and Fairley to form a front line shocking in its size, strength and athleticism. I mean, look at this:

The obvious size and strength of the line up front allows the Lions to be ridiculously aggressive with the back seven, as you can see. The much-maligned Wide 9 alignment maximizes this up-front advantage. At first, this made a hash of everything the Jets tried to do offensively. Then, the back seven fell apart, with multiple blown coverages making Sanchez look good.

The Ziggy thing? Yeah, that was awesome. Snagging a pick-six on his first series in Lions uniform? Awesome. Don’t make too much of it, though. As Jim Schwartz said at halftime, per the Detroit Free Press:

“We said from the beginning that he plays screens well, he plays draws well and all those kinds of things. We’ve seen that stuff on tape so wasn’t a surprise when he made that play.”

As I said all along (on Twitter, mostly), the Lions having coached Ansah at the Senior Bowl means the whole staff knew exactly what they were getting. Those speculating assumed Ansah would be raw and lack instincts because Ansah’s only been playing football for a few years. The reality is, Ansah’s grasp of the game is exactly that: instinctive. He’s still not the Pro Bowler they need him to be.

Don’t make too little of it, either. The strength, hands, athleticism and playmaking skills the Lions knew they were getting in Ansah were on full display against the Jets. That’s awesome. He definitely has the talent to be the Pro Bowler they need him to be.

There weren’t a ton of valuable takeaways from this game. Shaun Hill is still way too good to be a backup. The kickers and punters look good, and the special teams overall are improved. Riley Reiff is not going to put Stafford’s life in danger. Other than that drive, the Jets couldn’t do much against the defense—then again, the Jets have almost no offensive firepower.

There were still too many two-yard runs, incomplete passes, stalled drives and punts for a theoretically high-flying offense.

Throughout the offseason, I’ve fought the impression that this is going to be a tantalizing but unsatisfying “sim year,” one we’d simulate though if we were playing on Madden. There are too many young and inexperienced players in key roles, too many question marks yet unanswered, and too little proof that Matthew Stafford has enough rapport with anyone besides Calvin Johnson to take his game (or the Lions) to the next level.

Though this team has more than enough talent to make the playoffs, and my faith in the coaching staff is still strong, nothing I saw on Friday looks significantly better than in 2012—or 2011, for that matter.

This was the maddening thing (not the Madden-ing thing) about the 2012 season: the team looked so much like the 2011 squad, but the offensive touchdowns just evaporated. The margins were so thin and the outcomes so unlucky, it not only defied belief at the time but threw into doubt just how “real” the magical 2011 season was.

Even if the 2013 Lions perform at exactly the same level as 2012, they could still be a seven- or eight-win team, if they’re as lucky this year as they were unlucky last year.  If Reggie Bush can terrify defenses with more explosive plays like that hurdle, and Stafford takes advantage of the space, they could win the division. If not, they could struggle to reach .500.

Did I make a deal with the Devil himself to express myself for a living? No, but I did make a deal with you folks. I swore I'd never let the little the blue flame die out, and I won't this site go dark. I can't promise anything too regular or too specific, but I'll be writing throughout the season (and, Lord willing, Fireside Chatting again on game nights).

If TLiW's not already bookmarked or RSS feed'd, you can always keep track of new posts at my Twitter feed, and the VERIFIED (!!!) Lions in Winter G+ page.

If you're reading this (and surely, if you've read this far), you're part of the reason I was able to follow my dream and do what I love for a living. Even more than I was up all night writing for me, I was up all night writing for you.

It's the unique spirit of the Lions fan that compelled me to providing a warm, comfortable place for us frozen and weary souls. You came, in shocking and humbling humbling numbers, to join me by the fire. You encouraged me, supported me, let me know when I did well and let me know when I'd strayed from my Flamekeeping duties.

The Lions in Winter—its words, posts, community, comments, podcasts, UStreams, all of it as a whole—has changed my life. Thank you, all, for letting it be a small part of yours. I hope it still will be, for as long as the blue flame burns.

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On Taking the Wind

Marty Mornhinweg is not the worst head coach in NFL history.

Deadspin's Drew Magary and Dom Cosentino asserted the opposite late last week, based partly on Mornhinweg's 5-27 record as head coach, but mostly on the HILARIOUS STUPIDITY of taking the wind in overtime.

The article makes a lot of cogent points about the NFL having moved beyond coaches getting "hired to be fired," straight into a swirling vortex of hiring blatantly unqualified candidates to turn around talentless rosters, and poleaxing them if they don't immediately succeed.

As I've written before, trying to catch "lightning in a bottle" is the wrong way to hire a coach. As often as not, the young coach who pretends to have the NFL figured out is found out. (see: McDaniels, Josh).

Mornhinweg, in a way, was the model for this particular way to fail. Not only was he not an experienced NFL head coach, the 38-year-old had never been a head coach at any level. He'd been calling plays under Steve Mariucci in San Francisco for only two years, and the 49ers were 10-22 over that span.

Mornhinweg was hired to be fired, quite literally. As rumor had it, Matt Millen's relationship with Mooch was part of the reason the Ford family entrusted the franchise to Millen. Mornhinweg was basically there to install Mariucci's flavor of the Bill Walsh offense and keep Mooch's seat warm.

On December 31st, 2002, Millen announced that the Lions would be retaining Mornhinweg for a third season. Then Mariucci was unexpectedly let go by the 49ers. Three weeks after the public vote of confidence Mornhinweg was awkwardly terminated; a week after that the prodigal Yooper returned.

Marty Mornhinweg was then, and is now, a gifted offensive coach with a bright future. Mornhinweg did a lot of learning on the job, which included a contrived move-for-move reenactment of a Mike Holmgren training camp tirade-and-motorcycle-peel-out. Lions veterans profoundly did not buy it.

One thing Mornhinweg got right, though—or at least, did not get as wrong as everyone thinks—was taking the wind on that fateful day.

Now-defunct site Football Commentary did a beautiful win-probability analysis of the decision back in 2004. I can't find anything today that backs this assertion up, but my memory is that all 34 points scored in regulation that day had been scored with the wind.

I've talked and written many times about football's hilariously risk-averse culture, wherein even the game's greatest coach is pilloried for maximizing win probability instead of "playing the percentages" when he doesn't get a result.

In reality, Mornhinweg's mistake was accepting a holding call on a 3rd-and-8 incompletion that would have forced the Bears to send Paul Edinger out for a 42-yard kick into the hellacious wind—or even wave the white flag and send out Brad Maynard to punt it away. Had the Lions gotten the victory with that decision, Mornhinweg's outside-the-box decision would have been lauded as crazy-like-a-fox, instead of idiotic.

[Ed.- Per request, I used the Advanced NFL Stats WP calculator to judge this decision. The Bears had a 0.68 WP at 4th-and-8 from the 35, and an 0.62 WP at 3rd-and-18 from the 45. However, this is based on modeled leaguewide historical expectations, and wind into the teeth of which none could score is certainly unexpected.]

Continuing to shame Mornhinweg over that call is stupid and destructive and misses the point: Marty Mornhinweg was a great position coach, hired as a Plan D, and put into an impossible situation. 

Mornhinweg took over a not-talented-enough roster filled with veterans not much younger than he was, a brand-new front office with no idea what they were doing, got saddled with a No. 3 overall rookie quarterback he wanted nothing to do with, then was forced to lie through gritted teeth that he was completely on board hitching his career to Joey Harrington.

Mornhinweg made a lot of mistakes, but taking the wind wasn't one of them. Unlike Rich Kotite or Dennis Erickson or many of the others on the list, Mornhinweg has proven he's a quality NFL coach—and before long, will get another head-coaching gig.

Let's just hope he stays away from motorcycles.

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Biding Time on Prime Time: Saturday Night Football

The left boot’s lace snapped as I tied it. The axe was rusty and dull. It took a few tries to open the shed’s padlock, and I forgot to zip my parka. The wind driving the year’s first snowfall whipped into my chest, chilling me to the core. I steeled myself against it and set to work.

I walked the path to the bonfire, sled laden not with wood but with guilt. Too long, I’d let my tasks go uncompleted. Too long I’d left my duty undone.

The Lions aren’t going to the playoffs. They aren’t winning more games than they lose, or even winning as many games as they lose. They’re having a terrible season, and all the close calls and almosts and maybes and robberies adding up to a measly four wins out of 14 games.

The problems have been the same all season: a misfiring Matthew Stafford, special teams disasters, and a defense that can’t quite make up for all the offense’s mistakes. Calvin Johnson is going to break the single-season receiving yardage record, but the Madden Curse robbed him of his touchdowns—and the Lions of every other useful receiver.

Tonight, the Lions will take Ford Field for the second-to-last time this season. They face the 12-2 Atlanta Falcons, with nothing but pride at stake. Lions fans will fill Ford Field again, expecting to witness an excruciating loss for the fifth time this season.

And yet, the Lions will play, and the fans will watch and cheer and roar.

Trudging through the woods, the cold red light in the west fading, I pulled the sled toward the bonfire spot, fearful of what I’d find. To my surprise, I could make out a wan blue light dancing off the tops of the trees. As I got closer, I could hear voices.

People. Fans.

The blue fire was nothing like the raging, towering inferno it had been. But it was bright and strong enough to keep the folks gathered there warm. There was no laughing, no singing, no loud carousing. The cider had long since run dry, the casks I’d last left weeks ago emptied and never replaced. But people were quietly resting, basking, keeping each other company.

Whether the Lions win or lose tonight, the blue flame is not threatened. Many, myself included, have had our faith tested this season, and the old bickering can be heard in murmurs around the edges of the fanbase. Many are questioning if the Lions are on the right path, but few have abandoned the flame completely.

Many have left the blue bonfire, but not for good. Not for long. Just for the winter.

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On Thanksgiving, Lions Fans Give Thanks

“…although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty.”

-- Edward Winslow, A Relation or Journal of the Beginning and Proceedings of the English Plantation Settled at Plimoth in New England

Ten games in to the 2012 season, the Lions have won four games and lost six. Jeff Backus’s 186-game starting streak is about to end. Nate Burleson will be in crutches, cheering from the sideline. Titus Young will be in street clothes, inactivated for insubordination. Jahvid Best may never play again.

Corey Williams is iffy, Aaron Berry is in New York, Bill Bentley is on IR, and Drayton Florence will likely be out with a concussion. Two of the Lions’ top three safeties are on IR, and the third (Delmas) likely won't play either. Everything we thought this season would be is lost, or nearly so.

Now, let us fill Ford Field to the rafters and roar thanks for all our blessings.

Last season was the first season I made the more-literal-than-usual Pilgrimage to Ford Field on Thanksgiving Day. I was not surprised to find the atmosphere as it always seemed at home, on TV: an extra-special mood of festivity, a wide-open expression of joy and pride, a welcoming, party atmosphere.

There's something magical about the Lions on Thanksgiving, doubly so when you're there in person. Through thick and thin, and there's been an awful lot of very thin, this game sells out. It’s an annual national celebration of blessings, and no matter how bleak things have been on- and off-field for the Lions, their fans turn out in force to spend all day reveling in the immutable fact that we are still here.

The Pilgrims themselves gathered ‘round with some corn and some eel and some venison and a few pints of homebrew and toasted their incredible luck at just being able to do so. It’s the same with the Lions and their fans: spit on the team, on the City of Detroit, the State of Michigan, on our way of life all you want. Dismiss us, deny us, wish us all to lose our jobs, whatever.

We are still here.

We're here: 64,000 of us, 750,000 of us, four million of us, ten million of us, and we’re all wearing blue and fake turkeys on our heads and we’re going to raise a glass to one another and scream our fool heads off and you can’t deny it. You can’t take it away. We have our team, we have each other, and we are united in celebration of those simple facts; we are still here.

Whether you are there with me and mine tomorrow morning, or at home in the City of Detroit, or at home somewhere else, or visiting Grandma’s House, or even if you’re on the other side of the world: tomorrow we are all together, united in support of our team and each other.

There have been much, much worse seasons than this one. There have been much, much less exciting versions of our team. There have been much, much worse Thanksgiving Day games than this one will be, even if the Texans beat the Lions by more than the three-point spread. It’s not about the winning or the losing, though a win would be wonderful and a loss the final doom of the Lions’ playoff hopes.

Tomorrow, we give thanks for the blessings we have, and the blessings we have are so many: We have a team, we have a stadium, we have food and drink, we have each other, and we have hope. Always, always we have hope.

By the goodness of God, we are so far from want, we wish you partakers of our plenty.

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Turkey Day Q&A with TexansChick Steph Stradley

Today, TLiW is thankful for Stephanie Stradley (@StephStradley on Twitter), a Houston lawyer who writes about the Houston Texans for the Houston Chronicle online and a general interest, non-Texans blog at her own site. Stephanie is a sports blog O.G., and one of the very best.

I answered her Qs with my As at her TexansChick Houston Chronicle blog, and after adding her own must-read analysis, she’s provided her own As for us, here:

What are differences between this Texans team and previous ones? And why are Andre Johnson's numbers (with the exception of last week) down this year?

“The Texans offense with few exceptions hasn't had to open up much because with better defense, the team has played with many early leads. Due to salary cap concerns, they had to replace the starting right guard and right tackle, which would also make a team lean toward a more conservative, less-risk filled approach. The strength of the 2012 Texans is their experienced tight ends relative to their young 3-5 WRs, so they can use their TEs to help the offensive line but also to make pass plays and create mismatches.

The Texans have three tight ends that are listed in the top 15 in TE efficiency: Owen Daniels, Garrett Graham and James Casey. Casey is not built like a traditional tight end and came into the league as a do-everything athlete after his remarkable time at Rice University. (Nickname: "Thor"). The Texans use him as a hybrid TE, FB, WR and line him up in various ways. They run/pass out of the same looking formations and create matchup problems for defenses, especially given that no teams look like what the Texans are doing this year.

Andre Johnson is still Andre Johnson. He's made key move-the-sticks plays, and big plays downfield. But this year he has functioned mostly as a "Break Glass In Case of Emergency" option. If the Texans have a big lead, there's no reason to take downfield shots at him. In the game against the Jaguars, he faced some unusual single coverage matchups. In addition, with the Texans down by 14 late, they started running more 3-4 wide receiver sets with a more open offense like they used to do a lot when their defense was terrible. Eventually, if the Texans decide they are going to throw on teams, Andre Johnson is going to get his.

He's a very unselfish player and would rather have wins over stats.

In general, the Texans offense is all about taking advantage of what the defense gives you. Some defenses load up against RB Arian Foster. Some defenses aim at taking Andre Johnson out of the game. So each week the targets are different...the yard can be all about Arian Foster or the TEs or the #2 WR or the Andre Johnson show. They have many ways they can be efficient in moving the ball, and I think Texans coach Gary Kubiak is underrated as a playcaller. (The old "It's the players when things are going well, and the playcalling when things aren't." If you talk to the Texans players, they have a great deal of respect for what Kubiak does).

It's also worth mentioning with Andre Johnson that both he and Matt Schaub were coming off of injury filled seasons where neither one of them had a full camp. Johnson says he is feeling more like himself as the season progresses.”

What are key injuries for this team or players coming off of injury?

“The number one concern is whether standout CB Johnathan Joseph is going to be available for this game given his hamstring issue coming out of the previous game. He's usually the corner who is matched up with the best WR when there's a clear dominant #1. The Texans haven't played a lot of snaps with him off of the field.

Probably the greatest loss for the Texans this year was losing ILB Brian Cushing for the year to an ACL injury suffered against the Jets. He is a physical player against the run and the pass and gave Wade Phillips flexibility for what he could call on defense. Against better offensive teams, his aggressive play in the middle of the field will be missed. Tim Dobbins has played well in replacement, but suffered a shoulder injury after an interception return that makes his return uncertain.

Darryl Sharpton was expected to play alongside Cushing in 2012, but had a hard time coming back from a quad injury suffered last year. He had his first game against the Jaguars after coming off of IR and played well despite the rust. He played well before his injury, and Texans fans will be watching if he is the same player now. He will likely get the start on Thursday.”

What do you think are the strengths of this Texans team?

“Balance. If you look at the best teams in 2012, they are very balanced between offense and defense. In recent years, there's been a trend for teams to be dominant on one side of the ball and use that dominance to overpower opponents. (Typical examples: Patriots, Colts). This year, there's a number of good teams that are balanced: Texans, 49ers, Broncos, Seahawks, Packers. Teams that can win through both their offensive and defensive play.

Even within their offense and defense, they are balanced. They're run/pass playcalling is almost 50/50, and they can be very effective doing either one or both. The Texans defense is balanced as well, being good against both the run and the pass.

The Texans defense third down percentage numbers allowed is absurdly low. Currently the Texans defense leads the league in fewest a 3rd down percentage made at 26%. To put in context, the Bears and 49ers are 2nd and 3rd in that number respectively at 32%, 33%.

The Texans are also 1st in the NFL at Time of Possession (excluding OT) at 34:38. The defense has been doing a great job at forcing punts, and the Texans are usually good for a number of clock chewing offensive drives each game and at the end of games with a lead.”

What concerns Texans fans?

“Special Teams. This is the biggest concern by far. This unit has a number of new faces and new a kicker and punter who weren't the plan A's going into the season. Coverage units rarely worked all together in the preseason, and they did not appear to be a cohesive group going into the season. The unit has had some untimely penalties, and sometimes have created problems with the field position battle. They've looked better in recent weeks, and the hope is that with more time together, they won't lose the Texans games.

The right side of the offensive line. The Texans have been doing an unusual rotation on the right side of their line. Usually it has been fine, but in a couple of games it has led to some cringeworthy shots against Matt Schaub and difficult yards for Arian Foster.

Pass rush other than JJ Watt. Second year defensive linemen JJ Watt has been having an absurdly productive year. They move him up and down the line to give him good matchups, and he often takes advantage. The question for some is whether the other linemen/OLB can take advantage of situations where JJ Watt is being double teamed. Given the wild productivity of the Texans defense in 2012, that might be a quibbling concern.”

What do you think is the best way to beat the Texans?

“Stop the run and don't overpursue such that the best playaction/zone running team in the league kills you. Disguise coverages and bring infrequent, delayed blitzes to keep Matt Schaub from finding a rhythm. Bring quality pass rush with only four rushers and make sure Schaub makes few clean throws.”

What do you think the Texans gameplan will be against the Lions?

“The Texans focus mostly on what they like to do. On defense, stop the run, don't get beat by the deep play, take plenty of hard shots on the quarterback. Give extra attention to what the opponent does best, in this case, make it difficult to throw to Calvin Johnson.

On offense, see what the defense is giving you with the scripted plays at the beginning of the game, and then take advantage of defensive tendencies and matchups. Throw early in the game to amass a big lead and then run a lot late to chew clock.”

Who are some Texans players that Lions fans may not know who may have an impact on the game either in a negative or positive way?

“I've already mentioned the tight ends. Specific to the line, Ben Jones is a rookie who is rotationally playing right guard. He was a quality center in college, didn't play guard but started working on it during camp. He rotates with Antoine Caldwell, and both of them have had some up and down moments. Right tackle Ryan Harris rotates with Derek Newton, and Harris sometimes reports as an eligible receiver in red zone situations.

Those from Michigan may be familiar with rookie WR Keshawn Martin who went to Michigan State. He had his first touchdown last week, and had his best game as a returner last week. The Texans are slowly giving their inexperienced WRs more work, and if this game becomes a shootout, it is easy to hear other receiving target names being called other than just Andre Johnson because of how much Schaub distributes the ball.”

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Three Cups Deep: Week 10, Lions at Vikings

Fire is mysterious. It burns, it sears, it destroys—and it heals. You know me to be a man of facts, of analysis, of numbers and science and truth. But I’m also a man of emotion, perception, and faith in ultimate justice. There are times when truth is inescapable, and times when it is ineffable. There are times to rely on intellect, and times to open up to what we don’t know.

After nine games the Lions are one game below .500, and the Lions fanbase is wounded. We watched the Vikings again grind out an improbable victory, again saw the offense flail ineffectively as the defense stood tall, and again saw huge Vikings touchdowns nullify a spectacular fourth-quarter offensive awakening.

Once again, the Lions fanbase is crying in pain, dazed and struggling for answers. Are the Lions a good team, playing below expectations and falling victim to circumstance? Are the Lions an overrated team, a castle built on sand, heading for another complete collapse? Are the Lions a young team, experiencing growing pains as they learn to win? Or are these manifestations of that poltergiest undisciplinedness; Mikel Leshoure’s offseason pot habit mischievously causing Stafford to throw a pick, Ponder to throw deep spirals, Megatron to fumble and Adrian Peterson to reel off 120 yards in the last 15 minutes?

There is an ancient art of healing called fire cupping, which if you saw the Karate Kid reboot you know what I’m talking about: a lick of flame in a glass jar pressed against skin, causing a partial vacuum that bursts capillaries and rushes life-giving blood to the patient’s afflicted body part. Science, it isn’t. But in this case a little mysticism, a little blue flame, is exactly what Lions fans need.

While the treatment might be ineffable, the disease is not. The Lions offense is, statistically, still among the best in the NFL. They’ve gained the third-most yards, scored the 13th-most points, are ranked 6th in overall offense by Pro Football Focus, fifth in Offensive Expected Points Added and ninth in Offensive Win Probability Added. But anyone watching sees a much less effective offense.

The Lions are ranked 20th in average yards-per-attempt, tied with the league average at 7.2 YpA. This is down from 12th (7.8 YpA) in 2011. The Lions are a little bit better when interceptions and touchdowns are factored in: They rank 15th in the NFL in Adjusted YpA, at 7.0--but they ranked 7th in the NFL last season with 7.8 AYpA. The most telling stat of all? Yards per Completion, where the Lions dropped from 14th (12.0 YpC) to 23rd (11.4 YpC). Nevertheless, the Lions lead the NFL in passing attempts, just as they did last season.

So: the Lions are throwing the ball much less farther down the field, and they’re doing it less effectively. For the first three quarters of nearly every game, Matthew Stafford is able to hit the broad side of a barn, but it seems like he’s only able to hit the broad side of a barn.

In prior games, Stafford’s problem has been his ineffectiveness on third down. The Lions were again dreadful on third down (1-of-9, 11%) against the Vikings, but that was because they were so often dreadful on first down, especially in the first half.

By my count, the Lions faced 35 first downs on Sunday, 17 in the first half. Of those, they rushed 9 times at 3.1 YpC (10 at 3.7 including a Stafford scramble), and passed 7 times at 6.71 YpA. In the first quarter, the Lions lined up for a first down, and were held to two yards or less five times. That’s just not good enough. Putting the offense in constant second-and-long and third-and-long situations is going to result in punts.

Punts kill defenses.

Through the first seven quarters the Lions faced the Vikings in 2012, the Lions allowed 153 rushing yards and no touchdowns from Adrian Peterson, and 312 passing yards and 1 touchdown from Christian Ponder. That’s 106 offensive plays, an average of 4.39 yards per play, and seven offensive points.

In the last quarter, the dam burst: the Lions allowed 120 yards and a touchdown to Adrian Peterson, plus a 20-yard touchdown pass to Christian Ponder. That’s 15 offensive plays, an average of 9.33 yards, and 18 offensive points.

The Lions are an offensive team. It is built to score 28-plus points every time it takes the field. This Lions defense is an aggressive defense, built to ravage teams playing catch-up. Asking them to completely deny Adrian Peterson any yards and the end zone for eight quarters is asking too much. Asking this defense to shut down the run and suffocate the pass for eight quarters is too much. Asking this defense to make up for a cornucopia of punts and turnovers committed by a 200-million-dollar offense is too much.

Stafford and the offense have to stop playing scared in the first quarter, and incandescently in the fourth. Stafford has to stop breaking down and rolling out and flushing away when he’s got the second-best pass protection in the NFL.

But what, you ask, is the good news? That the incandescent play of Stafford & Co. is still there. That the switch is still able to be flipped. That when push comes to shove, these coaches, these players, and these schemes can still rip other teams to shreds. As long as all the elements are in place, anything is possible—even making the playoffs.

Before you scoff, remember: the Lions have made the playoffs from unlikelier circumstances.

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Three Cups Deep: Week 7, Lions at Chicago Bears

It was all but a must-win, and the Lions didn’t win.

This loss hurt. It hurt to see Calvin Johnson stone cold drop a sure long gainer. It hurt to see Matthew Stafford again struggle to make good reads quickly, struggle to stand tall in the pocket, and struggle to execute the offense efficiently. It hurt to see Mikel Leshoure and Joique Bell pound the vaunted Bears defense for five yards a carry and each lose a scoring-drive-killing fumble.

It hurt to see the Lions excel on special teams: block a field goal, allowing only 1 return of 4 to exceed five yards—and then have Stefan Logan lose yet another fumble.

It hurt to see the Lions defense kick the Bears' ass and lose.

The Lions are 2-4, two games below .500 and functionally three-and-a-half games behind the Bears. The sputtering offense is scoring just 22.2 points per game—and despite the defense allowing just 18 points per game, the six non-offensive touchdowns scored on the Lions are mean they have a –2.8 point per game scoring differential. They’re –5 in turnovers, ranked 25th in the NFL. That’s down from +11 last season, which was fourth-best.

So far, it’s been all but a Murphy’s Law season for the Lions: they have two semi-miracle comeback wins and three that fell just a bit short. They’re seemingly inches from being 4-3 or 5-2, yet they’re no further from 0-6. The offense seems like it’s this close to putting everything together, and yet if they haven’t by now when will they? The defense is playing out of its mind and getting better every week—but how long can that last?

Fortunately, it’s a short wait to this weekend, and a game against a team much like the Bears. The Lions will face a Seahawks team with just as vicious of a defense, just as strong of a running game, and with a quarterback even harder to pin down.

But it will be during the day, in the welcoming den of Ford Field, instead of at night in the Windy City. It won’t be in front of a primetime national audience. It won’t have any of the historic, bitter import. It won’t have any of the divisional implications. It’ll just be another football game—one the Lions, again, will have the talent to win.

But this time, it will be a must-win. There will be no “margin for error,” as Jim Schwartz said. The Lions, as ever in the Schwartz era, are victims of playing in the best division in football. Had they won this game they’d still be in the cellar, even at .500. This Sunday, the Lions offense has to execute. The Lions defense cannot take their foot off the gas. The Lions special teams cannot blow it again.

The Lions must win.

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Monday Night Vengance: the Bears-Lions Rivalry Renewed

"They don't like us. We don't like them. That's how it is.”

--Dominic Raiola, Detroit Lions center, on the Chicago Bears

They don’t like us. We don’t like them. The Chicago Screwjob. Last season’s Monday Night triumph. The return blowout at Solider Field. Glorious wins, stinging defeats, bitter complaints, searing pain, delicious triumph.

Actual rivalry.

A “rivalry” can be any recurring matchup. Any two teams with history, any two teams in the same division, any two teams that have played each other before can be called “rivals.” But this rivalry is something different; this rivalry means more. This isn’t about Alex Karras or Dick Butkus or Gayle Sayers or Lem Barney or George Halas or Dutch Clark. This is, but isn’t just about soliders bearing the livery of Honolulu Blue and Silver and a Leaping Lion meeting soliders clad in Light Black and Grody Orange bearing the standard of that tweezers-C.

This is about two groups of men who hate each other.

This is something rare in professional sports. With its mercenary nature, massive salaries, players rarely have time to inspire true loyalty, or true contempt. With the genteel manner in which we demand the modern player behave, we rarely see two pro sports teams who truly want to kick each other’s ass.

Tonight, on Monday Night Football, the nation will see exactly that.

Of course, this means  something extra to the fans, too: we won a game ball for our support on the last Monday Night Football matchup between these two teams, and restored pride to our beleaguered franchise’s national reputation. Then, the Bears returned the favor, putting a serious wobble in the Lions’ playoff trajectory and dulling the roar of the “Lions Nation Army” for most of the rest of the season.

Here in Week 7, the season’s already at stake for the Lions: win, and they pull up to .500: within a half-game of the Packers, a game of the Bears, and a game-and-a-half of the Vikings. Lose and they’re down three full games to the 5-2 Bears, with the tiebreaker unlikely.

The situation's similar for the Bears: win and they're sitting atop the division, lose and they're a mortal 4-3 with a murderous second-half schedule lurking around the corner.

This will come down, as always with these two teams, to two factors: the quarterbacks, and the defensive lines. Whichever quarterback makes more plays and avoids the other’s defensive line wins.

The hour is late; the Lions are at the gate. The Bears stand ready to defend their fortress. The rivalry is about to be renewed.

We cannot tilt the battlefield in favor of our team. We cannot intimidate their players or bully the refs or short-circuit their communications or make them commit penalties in their terrified confusion; all we can do is watch.

Watch, and hope.

Watch, hope, and hate.

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