On a day when the Vikings managed only six offensive points, Percy Harvin’s runback of the game’s opening kickoff provided the margin of victory. The Lions took a brutal home division loss, mostly because of this play:
According to MLive.com's Justin Rogers, Vikings head coach Leslie Frazier said it was a victory of Xs, Os and film study:
I remember in our first special teams kickoff return meeting we saw some things, and we pointed out that if everybody held their blocks, Percy's going to score. I mean, it was obvious. There are some things that we saw if we just held our blocks and our guys did it. They leveraged the football. They got where they needed to be and Percy did the rest.
Let's see if we can see what they saw.
At the kickoff, we see nothing unusual. The Lions are lined up conventionally, and so are the Vikings. But by the time the Vikings finish retreating, some things take shape:
Doug Hogue and Stefan Logan were set up as the second- and third-leftmost players, but by now Hogue's inside the hash mark and Logan's nearly so. The Vikings have paired up into their two two-man wedges (the most allowed by current NFL rules), but are also double-teaming Hogue.
The key here is No. 34, Keiland Williams. He was initially lined up five yards outside the left hash, but in order to avoid former Lions fullback Jerome Felton's block, Williams dances to the outside of the right hash. The Lions' fate, and Williams, is sealed by Felton.
Hogue can't beat the upfield double-team, and one wedge takes out No. 97, Ronnell Lewis. The other wedge splits up; one man seals Logan, while the other, Matt Asiata, splits off to block the widest Lion, Jonte Green:
This creates the lane Harvin eventually runs through, having sprinted on a steep angle from the far right corner. Incredibly, one Lion does his job and then some. Special teams captain John Wendling:
Wendling was lined up all the way to the right, but he shadowed Harvin's sprint to the left around all his blocked-off teammates. He has neither the angle nor the speed to make a play, though, and Harvin races off to the end zone untouched.
The Lions overcommitted to the right and didn't penetrate deep enough downfield to prevent Harvin from beating them far to the left. The Vikings knew exactly who they had to keep from making the play, and they made sure they had more than enough beef in place to block them.
That's the power of breaking down film.
For the Lions, this seems to be a coaching failure: the Lions have “obvious” flaws in their approach to covering kickoffs, and Vikings special teams coordinator Mike Priefer (yes, longtime Lions STC Chuck Priefer’s son) had no problem exploiting it.
However, note the big “if” in Frazier’s statement: “We pointed out that if everybody held their blocks, Percy's going to score.” The Vikings double-teamed the two guys with the size and speed to blow the run up: Doug Hogue and Ronnell Lewis. Keiland Williams is next biggest/fastest, and he got assigned the strongest single blocker, Jerome Felton. The Vikings knew nobody else would tackle Harvin, especially if he made sure to get away from Wendling.
What this means is that it's also a failure of execution: the three beefiest Lions couldn't overcome the stiff blocks, nor could any of the other Lions get free to make a play. In all three phases of the game, the Lions are coaching to execution; they expect the talented players to make plays. When they don't, it looks like bad coaching, as in here. The question is, can the Lions coaches scheme up good performances out of okay special-teams talent? Or should they try and upgrade the talent?
At this point in the season, the latter's almost impossible--which means, the former had better happen fast.
This proposal is not one that if you were asking the committee to vote on it from a tactical standpoint and for the betterment of the game. I believe the committee would be 0-7 against.
So, when considering the betterment of the game, this change is an overwhelming failure; it makes the game demonstrably worse. What on Earth could they be thinking?
From a safety issue, 7-0 in favor, because I think this gives us an opportunity to shorten the field and to lessen the impacts, if you will, that are happening on a play that is a popular play, historical play, been a part of our game forever and a play that we want to keep in the game. And so, this was our attempt at that.
Change to the kickoff rules! HOW BORING! This is coming from the one who got hurt!
So, everyone thinks the rule change will be bad. Everyone thinks kickoff returns will be steeply reduced by this rule change. The Competition Committee, though, hopes it will reduce injuries—and of course, I support that. The cynic in me chirps that the league is doing this to “prove” their commitment to player safety during negotiations—but any real step towards reducing head and neck trauma has to be lauded. So, I’ll laud it.
But what will the effect on the game be? Let’s look at all of the originally proposed changes:
Move kickoffs from the 30-yard line back to the 35, where it was prior to 1994.
Keep the coverage team within five yards of the ball (no more 15-yard running starts).
Change touchbacks to place the ball on the 25-yard line.
Eliminate the two-man wedge, just one year after eliminating three-man wedges.
It’s undeniable that the move back to the 35 will result in more touchbacks. Per Pro Football Focus, only one kicker averaged kickoffs past the goal line, but 19 would have under the new rules. However, touchbacks shouldn’t return to pre-1994 levels. For starters, the ‘94 changes also lowered the kicking tees to one inch—meaning kickers could no longer get underneath a three-inch tee and pop the ball up for five-second-plus hang times. Further, the NFL has since introduced the “K” ball, which prevents kickers from doing any of the extensive modifications they used to do for balls reserved for kicks.
I’m not a special teams coach, so I can’t tell you how much different it will be for coverage teams, with just a five-yard runup. It certainly seems like they’ll be hitting the 35-yard-line after just a couple steps instead of at full stride, but how much of a reprieve will that grant the returner? Will it be enough to return a kick out of the end zone? To me, though, the most intriguing possibilities are the ones created by the rules they didn’t adopt.
With touchbacks on the 20, coaches have every incentive to try and boot it into the endzone. If you have a Billy Cundiff, you can eliminate the other team’s return game. Functionally, you’ll be placing the ball on the 20, every single time. But moving the touchbacks up to the 25 would have given more coaches pause. A well-executed sideline kickoff is likely to prevent a return beyond the 25, so coaches would be disincentivized to order their kicker to boot it as far as possible. Meanwhile, anytime a gifted returner touches the ball, big things can happen . . .
Last season, there was a lot—well, not a lot, but a little—of hue and cry over the elimination of the three- and four-man wedge; the kick return technique with origins in the leather-helmet days. So, what happened? Special Teams coordinators innovated. They stacked two-man wedges, and they drew up return plays that drew blockers from one side of the field to the other. What was the result? Long kick returns actually went up. Again, Rich McKay:
The story I would tell you, and I’m not speaking out of school because I’m not going to tell you who it was, but I did have a special teams coach that I know pretty well call me when the elimination of the three-man wedge came in and he called me to tell me that he did not think there would be another kickoff return for a touchdown in the league. Ever. I think this year there were 23, I think it’s the second most ever. So one thing I know about those guys, they’re bright guys, they’ll find ways to return, they’ll continue to innovate as they have and I think the play will still remain an exciting and integral part of our game. It’s just simply in our opinion a play that we need to try to find a way make safer. That’s the intent.”
Honestly, I’m not mourning the death of the kick return—I’m mourning the return game that would have been if the NFL had adopted the full proposal. Kickers with a short field, but trying not to get a touchback, and the return team can’t make a wedge the coverage team can’t get a running start. It would have been like the cat-and-mouse game offensive and defensive coordinators play. Instead of everyone returning behind a wedge, and everyone trying to bust the wedge, you’d have coordinators drawing up whole new 10-man return formations, whole new plays designed to create seams, to create paths, to misdirect.
Further, it would all play out a little more slowly—instead of maniacs all flying around as fast as possible, there’d be a craft and technique involved. The difference in value between a linebacker who’s forced to play special teams, and a special teamer would be much greater. From what I can tell, if all four proposals had been adopted, it would have reemphasized the return game, and special teams in general, as the “third phase of the game.” Kick returns would have been both safer, and more fun to watch. Instead, we’re just going to get more touchbacks.
UPDATED with fixed link to must-read GQ article. Thanks, David!
Often lost in the hullabaloo of professional football is the first half of the equation: professional. Much is made about the thousands, even millions of dollars thrown around to athletes, coaches, and executives that make the game we follow--but then we naively ascribe all sorts of amateurish motives and ideals to these men: honor, loyalty, the love of the game. We take all we know of them—their on-field personas and their public statements—and we build them up in accordance with this paradigm.
Marvin Harrison was a receiver of electrifying ability. On the field, he did nothing but his job; off the field, he didn’t exist. He didn’t make commercials, didn’t blog, didn’t Tweet, didn’t even speak unless he absolutely had to. The football viewing public decided he must be classy, humble, and workmanlike. He was held up as the anti-TO—a wide receiver whose grace, maturity, and selflessness elevated him beyond his look-at-me contemporaries.
Faced with the GQ article that will surely go down as one of the most powerful pieces of sportswriting this year, we must face the reality: we know absolutely nothing about Marvin Harrison. All we saw was what he did on the field—and on the field, he did nothing but his job. He was a professional football player: he showed up, punched the clock, busted his ass, got results, punched the clock, and went home to do whatever he does in private.
Stan Kwan had a job in the NFL, too. But he wasn't getting results—and his firing had been called for, vociferously, by just about everyone in the Lions blogosphere, myself not excepted:
As for Kwan . . . well, there is absolutely no excuse for what Stan Kwan’s coverage and return teams did to the Lions’ chances for victory on Sunday. According to the official game book, the Lions’ average starting field position was their own 18-yard-line. The Bears’ average starting field position was the Lions’ 48. As pointed out by Killer, the defense allowed the Bears only 276 yards of total offense—but 277 yards of punt and kick returns.
It’s undeniable; the Lions’ special teams were absolutely wretched this season. According to Football Outsiders’ special teams analysis, the Lions put together the second-worst special teams unit in the NFL this year. His performance was manifestly wretched; his firing, inevitable.
Yet, it must be pointed out that Kwan had practically nothing to work with. Nigh-on a decade’s worth of fruitless drafts had left, ahem, the cupboard bare, and Kwan was making do with the rejects of the rejects. The promising and developing young players that competitive teams allocate to special teams were instead forced into starting roles, evaluated, and often released.
Reader TimT’s incredible analysis of the Lions’ roster churn proves the point: Kwan was often saying “hello” and “goodbye” to his players before a game had elapsed in between! Think of it this way: we’re all marveling at the quick development of DeAndre Levy as a three-position reserve linebacker, and possible 2010 starter—but on a “real” team Levy would have spent all of this season, and likely the next, destroying people on special teams. In his place, we had street free agents like Vinny Ciurciu.
Kwan did the best he could under the circumstances, but he readily admitted to the Detroit News’ John Niyo that it wasn’t anywhere near enough:
"Bottom line is results, and I don't have any regrets, other than that I didn't fulfill that for him and the Ford family and really the fans. It's disheartening, because a lot of people, especially with the economy we're in, everybody's working hard and that one Sunday out of the week, they want to see a winner. And I didn't fulfill those duties."
Wow. It’s rare that someone who just got fired speaks with such candor about his failures. He didn’t blame the roster, he didn’t blame the Rogue’s Gallery of coaches and executives he’s worked for here, and he didn’t even dissemble about “going in a different direction”, a “difference in philosophy”, or even a “mutual parting of ways”. No, his performance didn’t measure up—he knew it, he accepted it, and he admitted it. You think that’s classy? Wait until you read this:
"I hope the people of Detroit realize that they have got the right guy (in Schwartz)," Kwan said. "We became good friends, and for him to have to let me go because the special teams wasn't where it needs to be, I mean, that speaks volumes about what he's trying to get accomplished.
I mean, I just . . . wow. While I’ve never been fired for poor results, I have been laid off—and my first reaction was not to call the local paper and tell them the guy who just took my badge and laptop is doing a hell of a job. Kwan must be a hell of a friend, and a hell of a class act.
Unfortunately, he’s unemployed.
He'll be traveling to Mobile, Alabama for the Senior Bowl: the annual college all-star game which doubles as a job fair for football coaches with steep mortgage payments but no income. On the sidelines for the North squad will be Jim Schwartz, Gunther Cunningham, Scott Linehan, and the rest of the Lions’ staff—including Danny Crossman, the Lions’ new special teams coordinator.
Sean Yuille over at Pride of Detroit already has a great little background piece on Crossman’s background and recent performance. It also includes a link to the Panthers’ SB Nation blog, wherein Crossman’s firing garnered eerily familiar proclamations of joy—and eerily similar defenses of his 2009 performance. Quoth Panthers cornerback Dante Wesley:
“You’ve got to look at what he had to work with. It seemed like we were bringing new guys in each and every week. Then with the injuries we had, the backups are playing bigger roles on offense and defense, and we never had the same group. With that, I mean, Danny was teaching things over and over and over, because he never knew who he was going to have. It can be frustrating, because so many guys are coming through. You want to try to do it by yourself, but you can’t. That’s not how it works.”
"He brings a wealth of both college and NFL coaching experience that undoubtedly will have a positive impact on our special teams play. I've known Danny for a long time, and I've always had tremendous respect for his special teams units."
It’s hard not to conclude that the Lions have made a lateral move here. Yet, it was a move that had to be made. There are plenty of good people out in the “real world” who can’t hold on to jobs because their performance doesn’t warrant it—or, more accurately, they’re not so amazing at their jobs as to be indispensable.
I hope Danny Crossman’s fresh face, fresh voice, and approach will catalyze great improvement here. I hope a full offseason of roster-building will result in a little quality depth trickling down into the coverage and return units. I hope Crossman, a former all-Big East cornerback, Pitt team captain, inaugural World Bowl MVP (!), and, briefly, Lions DB (!!), can connect with Lions special teams aces like Ciurciu and Zack Follett.
Meanwhile, I hope Stan Kwan finds a good job in Mobile. I hope he finds a head coach who values the quasi-Olympic ideals we foist upon our professional sportsmen: honor, loyalty, diligence, and work ethic. I hope he finds a team with young talent, a winning culture, a supportive fan base, and—why not?—better weather.
Hey, I hear Carolina’s looking.
Read more...
Here is what you need to know about Penn State WR Derrick Williams. To me, that Rivals profile is the most intriguing, damning, and promising thing about the Lions' latter third-round draft pick. Coming out of high school, Derrick Williams was ranked by Rivals as the #1 overall recruit in the country . . . as an "ATH", or athlete. This designation is typically used when an astonishing athlete is utilized all over the field in high school, and so doesn't have a pure position--typically when a kid plays QB in high school to terrorize defenses, but doesn't project as a D-I signal caller. At Eleanor Roosevelt High, Williams played at least a little bit of basically every offensive skill position, as well as some cornerback. At an eyelash under six feet, running a mindblowing 4.37 40-yard dash at a Nike camp before his junior year in high school, there was no doubt that Williams had all the physical tools to dominate the college game, no matter what college he chose to attend.
Unsurprisingly, there was something of a to-do surrounding Williams' recruitment and committment. Penn State? At the nadir of the recent Paterno era; after four losing seasons in five years? The #1 overall recruit in the country, a phenomenal spread option quarterback prospect, and a multi-talented athlete? Exactly the kind of kid that Paterno "couldn't" or "wouldn't" recruit? Penn State?
Yes. Williams' father, Dwight, explained:
"This is a decision we're going to make, and it's not just about football," Dwight Williams said. "We feel like there's a strong commitment there, not only for athletes and their athletic ability, but there's a commitment for people to be successful in life. People can laugh or do whatever they want, but this is our decision."
The decision thus made, Derrick Williams went to Penn State (over Florida, Texas, et. al.), and immediately made an impact. With 22 receptions for 289 yards and a score, and 22 carries for 105 yards and three TDs, Williams's pure physical talent made him a contributor. A broken arm suffered against Michigan cut his debut season short, but there were high expectations for the remainder of his seasons at Penn State.
Unfortunately, he never quite lived up to them. Over the next three seasons, Derrick Williams played in every single game, and started all but one--and continued to produce largely at the same rate. His sophomore year, he hauled in 40 catches for 440 yards and 1 TD, while carrying 36 times for 145 yards and another score. His junior year, the recieving saw an uptick: 55 catches for 529 yards and three scores--but the rushing fell off; just 16 carries for 101 yards and one score. In his senior year, he really did well on the ground, getting 43 carries for 243 yards and three touchdowns--but the recieving cooled off again, to 44 catches for 485 and 4 TDs.
Now, there are some very encouraging trends there; the touches and yards went generally up from year to year, and the TDs went WAY up his senior year. Also, none of these stats include his return yardage or touchdowns, which were significant (115 punt returns for 721 and 3 TDs, 50 kick returns for 1,115 yards and 2 TD). But really, the stats alone show how Williams was used: as a "slash" type weapon; a player who's great with the ball in space, but not necessarily great at just getting it done as a position player. That role doesn't particularly translate well in the NFL. Devin Hester, Reggie Bush, Peter Warrick . . . these players have tried to make hay in the margins in the NFL, trying to translate great open-field ability into productive north-south offensive play. They've all been variably successful for varying periods. In my opinion, Derrick Williams' production in college points to a low ceiling for him in the NFL; he'll be never be an elite wideout like his 6'-0", 194#, 4.40 speed* would suggest.
The good news in all this? The Lions have no expectations that Derrick Williams will develop into an elite wideout. They don't particularly care that he does not boast amazing hands, nor incredible strength, nor surgically precise routes. He's an athlete, a playmaker, and a gamebreaking return man--and that's exactly what they want him to be. The question isn't whether he can overcome his lack of production as a college WR to become an excellent pro WR--the question is, can he be exactly what he was in college, in the pros? The answer, as always, is tough to divine. Quoth the Grandmaster:
“We need a returner. My philosophy on special teams is not to be safe and to find a guy that can catch the ball and fair catch it. We’re going to try to get some explosiveness, try to score. So a guy like Derrick Williams brought great value there.”
Issue #1 is his speed. Tremendously fast for a high school player, it appears as though Williams got no faster in six years. It's possible that the Nike camp time was somewhat inflated (er, deflated?), but from the summer before your junior year of high school and the spring after your senior year of college, you typically grow, strengthen, and mature physically. To show zero improvement whatsoever is a little odd. *By the way, to clear up some confusion, Williams cut a horrid 4.58 at the combine, then (rather lamely, I thought at the time) blamed it on a case of the flu. However, he proved me--and the doubters--wrong by cutting a 4.37 and 4.41 at PSU's Pro Day. Moreover, the straight-line track speed doesn't necessarily translate to pad-laden in-game speed. For proof, I offer the one YouTube highlight reel:
We saw a lot of very very positive things on that highlight reel. Williams displays great vision, burst, and instincts. He shows a knack for finding daylight, setting up his blockers, and hitting a seam. There's a wonderful quality he displays of running north-south unless he has to make a move, and then making just enough of a move to get back to running north-south. That's an absolutely vital skill in a return man, and one that you don't often see in college.
Unfortunately there are two things we didn't see him display on that tape: great hands, and elite speed. That might sound a little odd, as he just clearly ran past a lot of defenders--but if you watch carefully, you'll see he's not covering ground at a breathtaking rate. Skip to the 0:58 mark and watch carefully. As the play progresses, note his progress as compared to the other white helmets. After he hits the first pile, you'll note that he doesn't gain much ground on the players around him, even after he's broken into the open field. Once the way is clear, he should hit another gear and streak to the house--but instead, he flies in formation with the tight ends and linebackers assigned to block for him. Now of course, this doesn't mean that he's not faster than those guys, it just means that his shorts-and-t-shirt speed doesn't always translate to the field. It should go without saying that the overall speed of the NFL blows away the college game . . . can he even be effective as a returner without that top gear?
Actually, deep speed might be the single most overrated attribute of pro prospects. Especially as regards returners--there's a reason why "kick return" was listed as a separate ability on Madden for years. Return ability isn't a value that can be derived from knowing a player's "speed" and "agility" ratings; it's something else entirely. It's vision, it's instincts, it's an awareness of lanes and holes and angles. Even without true home run speed, I'm pretty confident that Derrick Williams can step right in and be a very good NFL return man, maybe even a great one. Most Lions fans over the age of 25 or so still light a candle every night for legendary returner Mel Gray, whose moves were electrifying, return averages through the roof, and return TD numbers pedestrian. Just because Mel rarely took kicks or punts all the wayto the house, didn't mean that he wasn't outstanding--nor did it invalidate the fact that he was an enormous asset to the Lions while he played. Field position is extremely important, especially for a young offense struggling with consistency and third-down conversions.
In fact, let's look at that for a minute. If you look at the 2008 numbers, the Lions were the 23rd-ranked team in kick return yardage, with 21.8. The #1 team, the Titans, averaged 25.4. This might not sound like a lot, but the Lions were kicked to an NFL-high 83 times; an increase of 3.6 yards per kick return translates to 298.8 yards! If we do the same for punt returns, the Lions were ranked 24th with an 8.0 yards-per average. The #1 team, the Bills, averaged 15.5. The Lions didn't exactly force many punts, but even with just 21 returns, that would be 157.5 yards' difference. Now, don't get too excited over this number, because kick and punt returns are different disciplines, and there are a lot of factors other than "Madden KR Rating" that go into this . . . but that's a difference of 456.3 yards. The Lions left over four entire football fields' worth of field position on the table, just by having a below-average return unit instead of a great one.
I would be very curious to see the percentage of 2008 Lions drives that contained more than three third-down conversions. Further, I'd be willing to bet that the number of Lions drives that contained more than four first-down conversions could be enumerated with a single digit. Just think about Jason Hanson's incredible season last year, where he hit 8 of 8 50-plus yard field goals. How many of those 456.3 yards would be needed to scoot how many failed drives to within his prodigious range? How many of those 456.3 yards would be needed to make how many field goals touchdowns? How many of those 456.3 yards would be needed to keep the other team's offense off the field for one or two more crucial minutes? How many of those 456.3 yards would translate into how many wins on an 0-16 team? Food for thought . . .
Derrick Williams might or might not be a great return man. What about being a wide reciever? It's absolutely indisputable that the Lions need a true slot wideout. With Mike Furrey off to the Browns, and Shaun McDonald joining the Steelers, the Lions have signed a slew of warm bodies. They're all going to audition for the role of Wes Welker: the quick, opportunistic playmaker working in the space created by the elite deep threat working the deep outside routes. Derrick Williams has the exact frame and toolset to absolutely explode in this role. However, his hands and route-running will hold him back. He does not appear to be a natural pass-catcher--and his role at Penn State backs that up. When you are a 6'-0", 194-pound, 4.40 wideout who was the #1 overall high school prospect in the nation, and you are in your senior year at a marquee school, and they're still using you primarily on screens, draws, reverses, and kick returns . . . there must be some pretty big holes in your game. Then again, several sources I've read have speculated that his toolset is better suited to the pro game. That his "slash" nature isn't his nature at all--it's due to his college coaches trying to maximize what they got out of his talents while he was there--not maximize his ability to play the wide reciever position. It's entirely possible that with NFL coaches (Scott Linehan, Shawn Jefferson) focussing him in on being the best slot reciever he can be, he can in fact be a great slot reciever.
However, with early word out of rookie minicamp being that he really struggled to catch the ball, I'm guessing not. Of all the picks I've reviewed so far, this is the one I'm most disappointed with. I absolutely think that this is a position of need--in fact, in one mock draft I did, I selected UNC WR/KR Brandon Tate with that 3.18 pick; a player with a practically identical skill set and resume. In real life, Tate went with the very next pick, the 3.19, to the New England Patriots. Soon enough, history will judge who's better at talent scouting: the Lions' front office, or me and Bill Belicheck.
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