I've been writing a lot about Paul Johnson's offense recently. But sometimes, it's best to get it from the horse's mouth. (Note: It's not the wing-t, and it's not just the triple option. And, although close to the wishbone, it has evolved from it. That's why it is called the flexbone: the run & shoot doubleslot formation with some 'shoot passing concepts, and lots of option, though with plenty of other wrinkles sprinkled in too.)
UPDATE: Looks like LSU's coaches saw this video and have been reading my site. They fared far better than Georgia and the ACC.
I've been writing a lot about Paul Johnson's offense recently. But sometimes, it's best to get it from the horse's mouth. (Note: It's not the wing-t, and it's not just the triple option. And, although close to the wishbone, it has evolved from it. That's why it is called the flexbone: the run & shoot doubleslot formation with some 'shoot passing concepts, and lots of option, though with plenty of other wrinkles sprinkled in too.)
UPDATE: Looks like LSU's coaches saw this video and have been reading my site. They fared far better than Georgia and the ACC.
There are a few differences here between what Franklin and Tuberville tried to do (or said they were trying to do). The biggest, I'd say, is that Malzahn's spread is not exactly like other spreads, whether pass-first ones like the Airraid or run-heavy spreads like Urban Meyer's or Rich Rodriguez's. That's because the schemes are simple - very, very simple - and the core of the offense is not even about schemes: it's about tempo.
Mike Leach runs a type of spread no-huddle, but his offense moseys to the line with the confidence and deliberate swagger of an old cowboy (or pirate?). They line-up and get a handle on what the defense is doing, call a play, and go. Franklin used the no-huddle (at least until he got to Auburn!), and even had a form of it called "NASCAR" which was intended to be an up-tempo light-speed level no-huddle, with the ball snapped quickly after the previous play.
But nobody does what Malzahn does. If some no-huddle teams, like Franklin's, are light-speed, then Malzahn's spends the entire game in something akin to "ludicrous speed."
The key to his offense is to get the play in with via hand signal, wristband (rarely), or a board on the sideline, and have the ball snapped within four to five seconds of it being set. He even has a speed designed to snap the ball as soon as the whistle blows. It requires endurance and discipline.
And his practices go at this same ludicrous pace. There is almost no lolly-gagging around and each play in practice must be snapped within twenty-five seconds of the last one for maximum reps. (As an added point of interest, because his offense often inspires bizarre and novel reactions from defenses - i.e. things they hadn't done before playing him - he has his teams practice against almost all fronts and coverages every single week just to be ready for whatever they throw at him.)
Is Chizik Trying to Copy Oklahoma?
So, you can see why this might be appealing to Auburn, even with a defensive minded head coach. As Dr Saturday recently pointed out, "only Oklahoma's 1,036 total plays bested the Hurricane's 1,007 this year, though TU led the nation in yards per play." I think this is no coincidence.
Oklahoma too has a fairly basic system as far as schemes go. They don't do anything that a lot of teams don't. Their passing game is kind of a derivative of what they did under Mike Leach and Mark Mangino, but they have gotten away from the pure faith of the Airraid and now use a lot of rather traditional (meaning, common) concepts. Labeling them spread, pro, multiple, or whatever is a bit futile. (When asked what offense Oklahoma runs, Bob Stoops said simply: "The Oklahoma offense."). They use both the "I" and other traditional sets, though are probably still more "spread" than anything else. But before people jump down my throat, I note that I think Wittgenstein was accurate when he said most arguments boil down to people's different uses of labels and language, in this case what spread or pro means to one person versus another.
Kevin Wilson, OU's offensive coordinator, is not known as a passing guru, and few would confuse him with one. But he knows one thing extraordinarily well: the no-huddle up-tempo offense. He ran it at Northwestern with Randy Walker, and that's how OU killed people this year. They have all these great athletes, they have solid schemes, and they go so fast they mow you down. I have to think Chizik envisions this kind of result.
Chizik spent the last few years getting his lunch stolen on a weekly basis in the Big 12, and he got destroyed by nouveau spread teams like Texas Tech, Oklahoma State, and Missouri, though he kept it close versus OU. I have to imagine that Chizik, like Stoops when he arrived at OU, wants to take some of those tough offenses he faced with him. And what better model to follow than Stoops? Both he and Pete Carroll have had national success as defensive coaches-to-head coaches by installing aggressive offenses.
Will it work?
The other side of Malzahn's attack, apart from the no-huddle aspect (I can't emphasize enough how unique it is to base your offensive philosophy around a tempo rather than simply schemes), is that Malzahn wants to formation you to death. The infamous "wildcat" or "wildhog" offense was developed while Malzahn was at Arkansas, though definitely with input from Houston Nutt and then-QB coach David Lee (now with the Miami Dolphins). See below for an ESPN video about the Wildcat with a brief interview with Malzahn.
But Malzahn is less spread and formation to run than he is infatuated with angles and geometry: he passes to set up the run, he uses a lot of shotgun, multiple receivers, and he does a lot of innovative things with wing-backs, tight-ends, fullbacks, and with guys in motion to get any advantage he can.
In this way his offense has advantages over what Franklin was doing at Auburn. If done correctly, the tempo and formations really are what eats the defense up. The schemes themselves are simple. Franklin had trouble getting his offense going because he did not have a solid trigger-man who could make his reads and likely lacked the coaching support to get one ready. Malzahn - at least for a time - should be able to mask some of those deficiencies while his players get up to speed through his tempo and formationing, and then from there just give them simple assignments. Now they will still have to learn all the signals and motions and the like, but this is (usually) easier because that just requires a kid to learn what he has to do rather than constantly react to the defense.
Thus Malzahn's offense is kind of the anti-run-and-shoot, which uses only a few formations but many reads after the snap.
The downside of the offense tends to be turnovers and defense. In Malzahn's first year at Tulsa, they led the nation in yards per game and were in the bottom eight or so in total defense. This year, Tulsa was second in the country in total yards (to Houston) and scoring (to Oklahoma) but ranked in the 80s in total defense. Now, you can make the fair point that if not for the Malzahn-experience, their defense would be just as bad but the offense would be on par as well; neither the conference, talent, nor team would make you expect Tulsa to have a good defense.
But the other problem can be turnovers. They don't necessarily turn it over more, but with more possessions and more plays you do create the risk of more turnovers, which tend to kill a team. This is the key point for Chizik: will he be able to tolerate that? Or will he eventually turn around and do a Buddy Ryan after a bad sack or fumble. (Ryan, then defensive coordinator for the Houston Oilers, slugged then offensive coordinator Kevin Gilbride during a game after Gilbride's run-and-shoot incurred a bad play. Keep in mind that the Oilers won eleven games that season and the offense was one of the best in the league; Ryan simply did not "respect" Gilbride's run-and-shoot offense (he still uses some run-and-shoot principles with the Giants); Ryan liked to call it the "chuck and duck.")
So, you always have to fear the familiar story: defensive coaches often just do not like the high-risk-high-return offenses, and sometimes mere variance can be confused with incompetence or an actual problem (as it was with Gilbride's 'shoot and Ryan). But it's also true that offensive guys can be a bit narrow minded at times, losing sight of the bigger picture in an effort to score points and rack up yards. Remember the lessons of Hal Mumme.
Malzahn's Schemes
Not too much to say here. In many ways Malzahn's run game resembles Urban Meyer's: Malzahn's is based on four-run plays - the inside zone, the outside zone, the counter, and power - with reverses, fakes, QB runs, and jet sweeps and play-action all built off those four plays. He also throws in some quick traps and draws for good measure. Again, nothing revolutionary. He will play with formations, shifts, and motions. He likes wing-backs. He will line up with the quarterback in the shotgun and put both runners next to him as a sort of offset I-formation. He will use receivers in the running game. And his quarterbacks don't run like Tebow but he runs some option and they are always a threat on the reads and counters.
The passing game is equally simple. Unlike the Airraid, which is based off of a lot of horizontal type routes (crossing routes, quick flats and the like), most of Malzahn's routes are "vertical" stems. Think of a passing tree: the receiver bursts off the line upfield to get the defensive guys moving, and from there can go deep, break inside, outside, curl or hitch up, or do a variety of things. He likes deep square-in routes, seam routes, and of course, he runs plenty of smash.
The rumor is that Malzahn got his passing game from Evangel Christian, which is similarly based on simple vertical stems to the routes and quick break-offs by the receivers.
But, in the end, it is the tempo that defines Malzahn's ludicrous-speed-Space-Balls offense. Time will tell both if he gets to run it (Franklin never got to install his up-tempo NASCAR, and Arkansas did not focus on up-tempo no-huddle while Malzahn was there under Houston Nutt), and, if he does install it, if it works.
Random highlight vid pulled from youtube (if anyone has any good online video of a Malzahn O (particularly Tulsa) please let me know; I'd love to post it):
Note: I am much indebted to the always great Coach Huey football coaching site as I did extra research on this article, as with Malzahn's various resources and of course his no-huddle book.
There are a few differences here between what Franklin and Tuberville tried to do (or said they were trying to do). The biggest, I'd say, is that Malzahn's spread is not exactly like other spreads, whether pass-first ones like the Airraid or run-heavy spreads like Urban Meyer's or Rich Rodriguez's. That's because the schemes are simple - very, very simple - and the core of the offense is not even about schemes: it's about tempo.
Mike Leach runs a type of spread no-huddle, but his offense moseys to the line with the confidence and deliberate swagger of an old cowboy (or pirate?). They line-up and get a handle on what the defense is doing, call a play, and go. Franklin used the no-huddle (at least until he got to Auburn!), and even had a form of it called "NASCAR" which was intended to be an up-tempo light-speed level no-huddle, with the ball snapped quickly after the previous play.
But nobody does what Malzahn does. If some no-huddle teams, like Franklin's, are light-speed, then Malzahn's spends the entire game in something akin to "ludicrous speed."
The key to his offense is to get the play in with via hand signal, wristband (rarely), or a board on the sideline, and have the ball snapped within four to five seconds of it being set. He even has a speed designed to snap the ball as soon as the whistle blows. It requires endurance and discipline.
And his practices go at this same ludicrous pace. There is almost no lolly-gagging around and each play in practice must be snapped within twenty-five seconds of the last one for maximum reps. (As an added point of interest, because his offense often inspires bizarre and novel reactions from defenses - i.e. things they hadn't done before playing him - he has his teams practice against almost all fronts and coverages every single week just to be ready for whatever they throw at him.)
Is Chizik Trying to Copy Oklahoma?
So, you can see why this might be appealing to Auburn, even with a defensive minded head coach. As Dr Saturday recently pointed out, "only Oklahoma's 1,036 total plays bested the Hurricane's 1,007 this year, though TU led the nation in yards per play." I think this is no coincidence.
Oklahoma too has a fairly basic system as far as schemes go. They don't do anything that a lot of teams don't. Their passing game is kind of a derivative of what they did under Mike Leach and Mark Mangino, but they have gotten away from the pure faith of the Airraid and now use a lot of rather traditional (meaning, common) concepts. Labeling them spread, pro, multiple, or whatever is a bit futile. (When asked what offense Oklahoma runs, Bob Stoops said simply: "The Oklahoma offense."). They use both the "I" and other traditional sets, though are probably still more "spread" than anything else. But before people jump down my throat, I note that I think Wittgenstein was accurate when he said most arguments boil down to people's different uses of labels and language, in this case what spread or pro means to one person versus another.
Kevin Wilson, OU's offensive coordinator, is not known as a passing guru, and few would confuse him with one. But he knows one thing extraordinarily well: the no-huddle up-tempo offense. He ran it at Northwestern with Randy Walker, and that's how OU killed people this year. They have all these great athletes, they have solid schemes, and they go so fast they mow you down. I have to think Chizik envisions this kind of result.
Chizik spent the last few years getting his lunch stolen on a weekly basis in the Big 12, and he got destroyed by nouveau spread teams like Texas Tech, Oklahoma State, and Missouri, though he kept it close versus OU. I have to imagine that Chizik, like Stoops when he arrived at OU, wants to take some of those tough offenses he faced with him. And what better model to follow than Stoops? Both he and Pete Carroll have had national success as defensive coaches-to-head coaches by installing aggressive offenses.
Will it work?
The other side of Malzahn's attack, apart from the no-huddle aspect (I can't emphasize enough how unique it is to base your offensive philosophy around a tempo rather than simply schemes), is that Malzahn wants to formation you to death. The infamous "wildcat" or "wildhog" offense was developed while Malzahn was at Arkansas, though definitely with input from Houston Nutt and then-QB coach David Lee (now with the Miami Dolphins). See below for an ESPN video about the Wildcat with a brief interview with Malzahn.
But Malzahn is less spread and formation to run than he is infatuated with angles and geometry: he passes to set up the run, he uses a lot of shotgun, multiple receivers, and he does a lot of innovative things with wing-backs, tight-ends, fullbacks, and with guys in motion to get any advantage he can.
In this way his offense has advantages over what Franklin was doing at Auburn. If done correctly, the tempo and formations really are what eats the defense up. The schemes themselves are simple. Franklin had trouble getting his offense going because he did not have a solid trigger-man who could make his reads and likely lacked the coaching support to get one ready. Malzahn - at least for a time - should be able to mask some of those deficiencies while his players get up to speed through his tempo and formationing, and then from there just give them simple assignments. Now they will still have to learn all the signals and motions and the like, but this is (usually) easier because that just requires a kid to learn what he has to do rather than constantly react to the defense.
Thus Malzahn's offense is kind of the anti-run-and-shoot, which uses only a few formations but many reads after the snap.
The downside of the offense tends to be turnovers and defense. In Malzahn's first year at Tulsa, they led the nation in yards per game and were in the bottom eight or so in total defense. This year, Tulsa was second in the country in total yards (to Houston) and scoring (to Oklahoma) but ranked in the 80s in total defense. Now, you can make the fair point that if not for the Malzahn-experience, their defense would be just as bad but the offense would be on par as well; neither the conference, talent, nor team would make you expect Tulsa to have a good defense.
But the other problem can be turnovers. They don't necessarily turn it over more, but with more possessions and more plays you do create the risk of more turnovers, which tend to kill a team. This is the key point for Chizik: will he be able to tolerate that? Or will he eventually turn around and do a Buddy Ryan after a bad sack or fumble. (Ryan, then defensive coordinator for the Houston Oilers, slugged then offensive coordinator Kevin Gilbride during a game after Gilbride's run-and-shoot incurred a bad play. Keep in mind that the Oilers won eleven games that season and the offense was one of the best in the league; Ryan simply did not "respect" Gilbride's run-and-shoot offense (he still uses some run-and-shoot principles with the Giants); Ryan liked to call it the "chuck and duck.")
So, you always have to fear the familiar story: defensive coaches often just do not like the high-risk-high-return offenses, and sometimes mere variance can be confused with incompetence or an actual problem (as it was with Gilbride's 'shoot and Ryan). But it's also true that offensive guys can be a bit narrow minded at times, losing sight of the bigger picture in an effort to score points and rack up yards. Remember the lessons of Hal Mumme.
Malzahn's Schemes
Not too much to say here. In many ways Malzahn's run game resembles Urban Meyer's: Malzahn's is based on four-run plays - the inside zone, the outside zone, the counter, and power - with reverses, fakes, QB runs, and jet sweeps and play-action all built off those four plays. He also throws in some quick traps and draws for good measure. Again, nothing revolutionary. He will play with formations, shifts, and motions. He likes wing-backs. He will line up with the quarterback in the shotgun and put both runners next to him as a sort of offset I-formation. He will use receivers in the running game. And his quarterbacks don't run like Tebow but he runs some option and they are always a threat on the reads and counters.
The passing game is equally simple. Unlike the Airraid, which is based off of a lot of horizontal type routes (crossing routes, quick flats and the like), most of Malzahn's routes are "vertical" stems. Think of a passing tree: the receiver bursts off the line upfield to get the defensive guys moving, and from there can go deep, break inside, outside, curl or hitch up, or do a variety of things. He likes deep square-in routes, seam routes, and of course, he runs plenty of smash.
The rumor is that Malzahn got his passing game from Evangel Christian, which is similarly based on simple vertical stems to the routes and quick break-offs by the receivers.
But, in the end, it is the tempo that defines Malzahn's ludicrous-speed-Space-Balls offense. Time will tell both if he gets to run it (Franklin never got to install his up-tempo NASCAR, and Arkansas did not focus on up-tempo no-huddle while Malzahn was there under Houston Nutt), and, if he does install it, if it works.
Random highlight vid pulled from youtube (if anyone has any good online video of a Malzahn O (particularly Tulsa) please let me know; I'd love to post it):
Note: I am much indebted to the always great Coach Huey football coaching site as I did extra research on this article, as with Malzahn's various resources and of course his no-huddle book.
ESPN and the A-11: a combination that guarantees poor reporting.
The ESPN recently had a cover story about the A-11 or "All-Eleven" offense, which I have written rather extensively about. My contention with it boils down to the fact that the entire offense is based around a particular rule exemption merely designed to allow speedier athletes on the field when a team punts (hence why it is called the "scrimmage kick exception") and that if the A-11's creators and proponents want to make their offense an every down one they should do it like how other rules get created, which is roughly democratically, by getting their representatives on the rules committees to do away with the eligible number restrictions to begin with. (At every level of football the offense must have five guys with ineligible jersey numbers -- i.e. 50s-70s -- who are ineligible to catch passes no matter where they line up, except when the "scrimmage kick exception" kicks in.) For some reason the A-11 types seem more committed to doing it via this rule exemption, which strikes me as surreptitious and a bit odd. (If you believe your offense is the future why not just get the rules passed? Especially since your rule exemption forces you to keep your quarterback to take seven yards deep shotgun snaps?)
For example, the image below does not depict the A-11, but instead something that has been going on for years. The difference between the A-11 and what is going on with Florida below is that, with Florida, the defense can identify receivers and linemen by their jersey numbers; in the A-11 they would all be wearing eligible numbers and, one second before the snap, some guys would step on the line and become ineligible while others would not. (And indeed, the A-11 creators are firm in stating that what they are doing is new and not old, though I'm not so convinced.)
In any event, the author gets flat wrong how the rule at play works:
Normally used for punts, the rule stated that as long as the player receiving the snap was seven yards behind center, any teammate wearing the jersey of an eligible receiver (between Nos. 1 and 49 or 80 and 89) was permitted to go downfield.
No. The offense is still limited to five eligible receivers after the snap: the number of eligible receivers is still restricted to the ends and people in the backfield, and the offense must still have seven guys on the line of scrimmage. Thus there are always five guys ineligible. What the eligibility restrictions did is that ineligible numbers -- 50s through 70s -- were ineligible even if in the backfield. The article therefore implies that offenses are getting six, seven, eight guys into the secondary, which is just not true, even in high school.
Further, the piece doesn't ever bother to explain how the offense actually works, or even what any of the opposing views might be. There is some lip-service given to debunking the straw-men and misguided Platonic Idealists who think it is "just not football," but those are easy targets. It never takes on those who fear that a wholesale adoption of the offense will remove spots for linemen on teams, or those with process-oriented objections like mine, which is extra-salient since all football rules are arbitrary -- 100 yard football fields, four downs, eleven men on the field; these are all important rules no? Yet the Canadians vary them all.
Curiously, Titans coach Jeff Fisher, the other co-chair of the NFL's Competition Committee, says he has no interest in modifying the rules to allow for a full-blown A-11, because it would alter the game too radically
"Curiously"? As in, if only Jeff Fisher wasn't blind to the truth in front of his face, he'd know what's good for him. But this has to be in there, and the ESPN writer has to paint the A-11's rise as our witnessing some kind of Hegelian inevitable march through history:
Shock to the System
Wowed by The Wildcat, Spread HD and A-11? You ain't seen nothing yet. An offensive revolution is coming to the NFL. Can anyone stop it?
by David Fleming
"An offensive revolution is coming to the NFL"? As indicated above, the A-11 is illegal in the NFL; the scrimmage kick doesn't work how it does in high school. It doesn't work in college how it works in high school either. In high school any time the "snap recipient" is more than seven yards deep you can be in the scrimmage kick exception; in college it "must be obvious that a kick might be attempted." That language excludes anything but fake-punts, because it is only "obvious" that a kick might be attempted when there are things like, oh I don't know, there's a kicker on the field and it is fourth down. (Again, I'd have less of a problem with this if they just lobbied to get the restrictions done away with to begin with. I could buy that; it'd be what people wanted. The A-11's approach strikes one of caprice.)
Anyway, let's get more fundamental here.
That's why their playbooks are barely distinguishable from the ones Paul Brown first handed out in the 1940s. "When it comes to new ideas, I wouldn't say the NFL is risk averse," says former Ravens coach Brian Billick. "I'd say it's downright paranoid. You want something new? Sure, go ahead and try something. Make one mistake, and your ass is out on the street."
With offenses standing still, it's only a matter of time before defenses close the gap; witness how the Cover 2 has largely neutralized Walsh's creation. As scoring plummets, you can bet the league, once again facing scary economic conditions, will react as it always has—with more offensive-minded rules changes, followed by new schemes designed to take advantage of them. "The game will always evolve," says Falcons president Rich McKay, co-chair of the NFL's Competition Committee. "The only question is, What's next, and when is it going to happen?"
Let's unpack this.
The major reason why Paul Brown's playbooks are still so influential is because of geometry and arithmetic. There's only eleven players and only five eligible receivers. (This is true even in the A-11, though before the snap they cause confusion because some guys pretend like they might go out but are actually ineligible and if they cross the line of scrimmage -- and the ref spots them, the real sticking point -- they are still ineligible. The A-11 doesn't change that.) And the dimensions of the football field are the same, and so the coverages are largely the same as they were back then. You still face Cover 2 (two deep), Cover 3 (three deep), Cover 4 (four deep), and Cover 1-man (one deep) and Cover-0 man (none deep). So the reason the plays seem so similar is because there's only so many ways to deploy your receivers to take advantage of the open spots. In fact, I've seen (and helped) the Piedmont A-11 guys with their pass concepts. Trust me, behind the fact that there's a lot of guys standing up before the snap, after the snap it's the same concepts you would see from the Steelers, Paul Brown, Mike Leach, or Urban Meyer.
Billick is right about innovation in the NFL, though only to a point. This is a point worth elaborating on, but innovation goes in different directions in football. Macro-changes -- of the kind like the single-wing resurgence, run and shoot and spread, triple-option, and other arguments about the very structure of football and its geometry -- tend to come bottom up for the reason Billick states: small schools and colleges have little to lose. It doesn't work? You're no different than the last guy. And you need to do something different to give yourself a chance. But the NFL in many ways dominates the micro-evolutions: it's millions of dollars, staffs as armies, unlimited equipment, and only workaholics need apply. It's football 24/7; ideas get chewed up, synthesized, and assimilated. They might not merge the flexbone with the run and shoot, but they will play around with every single way you can get into three-verticals in a game, from every formation you can. It's Walsh taken to its logical extreme. All the best ideas are eventually tested in the pros. We're a long way off from the A-11 being there.
Cover 2 neutralized the West Coast Offense? Bizarre. Who did the reporter speak to? The so-called "Tampa 2" was made famous in the 90s by Tony Dungy. Who did Dungy play more than anyone else then? The Mike Holmgren-Brett Favre Packers. Because in the Tampa 2 the middle-linebacker vacates to the deep middle, Holmgren ran the crap out of the "Texas" concept, where the tight-end flies down the middle and drags that linebacker deep and the running back runs an angle route in that void. Countered? The Packers won a Super Bowl and won many of those contests. And the author's point is a complete non sequitur. Cover 2 countered the West Coast Offense (presumably by taking away short passes), so now everyone is spread and... throws even more short passes?
The final point is when the author just starts making things up. Scoring shall plummet! Plummet! Then they'll have to let in the A-11.
The proliferation of the spread-style scheme in high school and college means there are fewer classic pocket passers in the pipeline. When the well finally runs dry, NFL QBs will naturally evolve into smaller, more durable runners who can handle the physical pounding of the game and throw when they have to. Assuming the NFL creates special roster exemptions, teams might sign four of these new prototypes (think: Tim Tebow), platoon them two at a time like tailbacks or hold one out for safe-keeping until November. Instead of banking everything on one $12 million star, teams will pay four passers $3 million each. And with tougher QBs and less economic risk, they'll be free to run wide-open schemes, like the run 'n shoot, that expose passers to more hits.
So, the fact that more and more teams throw the ball at the lower levels means that there will be fewer guys who can pass, pocket or otherwise? The author is right only if you take the most narrow view of it: there will be fewer guys who can only pass, but there will be many more -- a la Tim Tebow -- who can do many things. What they focus on will depend on their talents and their system. But who can argue that suddenly the NFL will become a league of "durable running QBs" who "throw when they have to"?
I admit I have always liked the idea of a shotgun spread with two QBs -- call it the "Twin Tebow" offense, but at this point we're very far removed from having to expand something called the "scrimmage kick exception."
Anyway, there's a few things going on here. One, is that, as is normal with any other tabloid, ESPN the Magazine is hyping the next big thing before it's done anything. (The A-11 is kind of the Lindsey Lohan of football offenses: everywhere today; fond remembrances and bold statements tomorrow; maybe even a DUI or two in the future before we forget about it.) No A-11 team has had any kind of success -- which is not an entirely fair criticism, since the early adopters are largely small schools and downtrodden programs who need a boost both in terms of hype and getting kids out to play, which is often the biggest battle they face. Yet, as the video below shows, this is hardly the stuff that dreams are made on. Not bad, but revolutionary? And worth relying solely upon a rule exemption? Then I'm not sure.
In any event, I began as a fan of the A-11, but as I explored it more -- something the author of this ESPN piece has not done -- you see that its roots are shaky. Again, I am no football purist. I don't think there is "true football" or that it doesn't involve passing or the spread. I do disagree with some kind of bizarre view that football's history is inexorably moving to the A-11 (we've had Arena football for over a decade, flag football and 8-man football for longer). It's just a different animal. But if they want the A-11 to become a part of high school, college, and pro ball, then they should get the eligibility number rule changed rather than trying to rely on a rule exemption.
Which, I should add, I would support. I repeat, I would fully support doing away with the eligible number restrictions (which was put in place essentially to eliminate the tackle eligible passes). But I would do it head on, not through this rule exemption, and I would also increase the time that players must be set before the snap from one second to two or three. (In high school it is only one.) That way, it wouldn't be as difficult for defenses and officials to identify who in the heck is actually eligible or ineligible, which I suppose does reduce the concept's effectiveness. But, since there is no platonic ideal football, it's all about finding what rules make a game we all enjoy. All rules in sports are arbitrary (three strikes, 10 foot high goal posts), so they can all be changed. Here's to the game evolving the right way.
*As noted previously, I got the idea and name for this feature from the excellent Brad DeLong.
ESPN and the A-11: a combination that guarantees poor reporting.
The ESPN recently had a cover story about the A-11 or "All-Eleven" offense, which I have written rather extensively about. My contention with it boils down to the fact that the entire offense is based around a particular rule exemption merely designed to allow speedier athletes on the field when a team punts (hence why it is called the "scrimmage kick exception") and that if the A-11's creators and proponents want to make their offense an every down one they should do it like how other rules get created, which is roughly democratically, by getting their representatives on the rules committees to do away with the eligible number restrictions to begin with. (At every level of football the offense must have five guys with ineligible jersey numbers -- i.e. 50s-70s -- who are ineligible to catch passes no matter where they line up, except when the "scrimmage kick exception" kicks in.) For some reason the A-11 types seem more committed to doing it via this rule exemption, which strikes me as surreptitious and a bit odd. (If you believe your offense is the future why not just get the rules passed? Especially since your rule exemption forces you to keep your quarterback to take seven yards deep shotgun snaps?)
For example, the image below does not depict the A-11, but instead something that has been going on for years. The difference between the A-11 and what is going on with Florida below is that, with Florida, the defense can identify receivers and linemen by their jersey numbers; in the A-11 they would all be wearing eligible numbers and, one second before the snap, some guys would step on the line and become ineligible while others would not. (And indeed, the A-11 creators are firm in stating that what they are doing is new and not old, though I'm not so convinced.)
In any event, the author gets flat wrong how the rule at play works:
Normally used for punts, the rule stated that as long as the player receiving the snap was seven yards behind center, any teammate wearing the jersey of an eligible receiver (between Nos. 1 and 49 or 80 and 89) was permitted to go downfield.
No. The offense is still limited to five eligible receivers after the snap: the number of eligible receivers is still restricted to the ends and people in the backfield, and the offense must still have seven guys on the line of scrimmage. Thus there are always five guys ineligible. What the eligibility restrictions did is that ineligible numbers -- 50s through 70s -- were ineligible even if in the backfield. The article therefore implies that offenses are getting six, seven, eight guys into the secondary, which is just not true, even in high school.
Further, the piece doesn't ever bother to explain how the offense actually works, or even what any of the opposing views might be. There is some lip-service given to debunking the straw-men and misguided Platonic Idealists who think it is "just not football," but those are easy targets. It never takes on those who fear that a wholesale adoption of the offense will remove spots for linemen on teams, or those with process-oriented objections like mine, which is extra-salient since all football rules are arbitrary -- 100 yard football fields, four downs, eleven men on the field; these are all important rules no? Yet the Canadians vary them all.
Curiously, Titans coach Jeff Fisher, the other co-chair of the NFL's Competition Committee, says he has no interest in modifying the rules to allow for a full-blown A-11, because it would alter the game too radically
"Curiously"? As in, if only Jeff Fisher wasn't blind to the truth in front of his face, he'd know what's good for him. But this has to be in there, and the ESPN writer has to paint the A-11's rise as our witnessing some kind of Hegelian inevitable march through history:
Shock to the System
Wowed by The Wildcat, Spread HD and A-11? You ain't seen nothing yet. An offensive revolution is coming to the NFL. Can anyone stop it?
by David Fleming
"An offensive revolution is coming to the NFL"? As indicated above, the A-11 is illegal in the NFL; the scrimmage kick doesn't work how it does in high school. It doesn't work in college how it works in high school either. In high school any time the "snap recipient" is more than seven yards deep you can be in the scrimmage kick exception; in college it "must be obvious that a kick might be attempted." That language excludes anything but fake-punts, because it is only "obvious" that a kick might be attempted when there are things like, oh I don't know, there's a kicker on the field and it is fourth down. (Again, I'd have less of a problem with this if they just lobbied to get the restrictions done away with to begin with. I could buy that; it'd be what people wanted. The A-11's approach strikes one of caprice.)
Anyway, let's get more fundamental here.
That's why their playbooks are barely distinguishable from the ones Paul Brown first handed out in the 1940s. "When it comes to new ideas, I wouldn't say the NFL is risk averse," says former Ravens coach Brian Billick. "I'd say it's downright paranoid. You want something new? Sure, go ahead and try something. Make one mistake, and your ass is out on the street."
With offenses standing still, it's only a matter of time before defenses close the gap; witness how the Cover 2 has largely neutralized Walsh's creation. As scoring plummets, you can bet the league, once again facing scary economic conditions, will react as it always has—with more offensive-minded rules changes, followed by new schemes designed to take advantage of them. "The game will always evolve," says Falcons president Rich McKay, co-chair of the NFL's Competition Committee. "The only question is, What's next, and when is it going to happen?"
Let's unpack this.
The major reason why Paul Brown's playbooks are still so influential is because of geometry and arithmetic. There's only eleven players and only five eligible receivers. (This is true even in the A-11, though before the snap they cause confusion because some guys pretend like they might go out but are actually ineligible and if they cross the line of scrimmage -- and the ref spots them, the real sticking point -- they are still ineligible. The A-11 doesn't change that.) And the dimensions of the football field are the same, and so the coverages are largely the same as they were back then. You still face Cover 2 (two deep), Cover 3 (three deep), Cover 4 (four deep), and Cover 1-man (one deep) and Cover-0 man (none deep). So the reason the plays seem so similar is because there's only so many ways to deploy your receivers to take advantage of the open spots. In fact, I've seen (and helped) the Piedmont A-11 guys with their pass concepts. Trust me, behind the fact that there's a lot of guys standing up before the snap, after the snap it's the same concepts you would see from the Steelers, Paul Brown, Mike Leach, or Urban Meyer.
Billick is right about innovation in the NFL, though only to a point. This is a point worth elaborating on, but innovation goes in different directions in football. Macro-changes -- of the kind like the single-wing resurgence, run and shoot and spread, triple-option, and other arguments about the very structure of football and its geometry -- tend to come bottom up for the reason Billick states: small schools and colleges have little to lose. It doesn't work? You're no different than the last guy. And you need to do something different to give yourself a chance. But the NFL in many ways dominates the micro-evolutions: it's millions of dollars, staffs as armies, unlimited equipment, and only workaholics need apply. It's football 24/7; ideas get chewed up, synthesized, and assimilated. They might not merge the flexbone with the run and shoot, but they will play around with every single way you can get into three-verticals in a game, from every formation you can. It's Walsh taken to its logical extreme. All the best ideas are eventually tested in the pros. We're a long way off from the A-11 being there.
Cover 2 neutralized the West Coast Offense? Bizarre. Who did the reporter speak to? The so-called "Tampa 2" was made famous in the 90s by Tony Dungy. Who did Dungy play more than anyone else then? The Mike Holmgren-Brett Favre Packers. Because in the Tampa 2 the middle-linebacker vacates to the deep middle, Holmgren ran the crap out of the "Texas" concept, where the tight-end flies down the middle and drags that linebacker deep and the running back runs an angle route in that void. Countered? The Packers won a Super Bowl and won many of those contests. And the author's point is a complete non sequitur. Cover 2 countered the West Coast Offense (presumably by taking away short passes), so now everyone is spread and... throws even more short passes?
The final point is when the author just starts making things up. Scoring shall plummet! Plummet! Then they'll have to let in the A-11.
The proliferation of the spread-style scheme in high school and college means there are fewer classic pocket passers in the pipeline. When the well finally runs dry, NFL QBs will naturally evolve into smaller, more durable runners who can handle the physical pounding of the game and throw when they have to. Assuming the NFL creates special roster exemptions, teams might sign four of these new prototypes (think: Tim Tebow), platoon them two at a time like tailbacks or hold one out for safe-keeping until November. Instead of banking everything on one $12 million star, teams will pay four passers $3 million each. And with tougher QBs and less economic risk, they'll be free to run wide-open schemes, like the run 'n shoot, that expose passers to more hits.
So, the fact that more and more teams throw the ball at the lower levels means that there will be fewer guys who can pass, pocket or otherwise? The author is right only if you take the most narrow view of it: there will be fewer guys who can only pass, but there will be many more -- a la Tim Tebow -- who can do many things. What they focus on will depend on their talents and their system. But who can argue that suddenly the NFL will become a league of "durable running QBs" who "throw when they have to"?
I admit I have always liked the idea of a shotgun spread with two QBs -- call it the "Twin Tebow" offense, but at this point we're very far removed from having to expand something called the "scrimmage kick exception."
Anyway, there's a few things going on here. One, is that, as is normal with any other tabloid, ESPN the Magazine is hyping the next big thing before it's done anything. (The A-11 is kind of the Lindsey Lohan of football offenses: everywhere today; fond remembrances and bold statements tomorrow; maybe even a DUI or two in the future before we forget about it.) No A-11 team has had any kind of success -- which is not an entirely fair criticism, since the early adopters are largely small schools and downtrodden programs who need a boost both in terms of hype and getting kids out to play, which is often the biggest battle they face. Yet, as the video below shows, this is hardly the stuff that dreams are made on. Not bad, but revolutionary? And worth relying solely upon a rule exemption? Then I'm not sure.
In any event, I began as a fan of the A-11, but as I explored it more -- something the author of this ESPN piece has not done -- you see that its roots are shaky. Again, I am no football purist. I don't think there is "true football" or that it doesn't involve passing or the spread. I do disagree with some kind of bizarre view that football's history is inexorably moving to the A-11 (we've had Arena football for over a decade, flag football and 8-man football for longer). It's just a different animal. But if they want the A-11 to become a part of high school, college, and pro ball, then they should get the eligibility number rule changed rather than trying to rely on a rule exemption.
Which, I should add, I would support. I repeat, I would fully support doing away with the eligible number restrictions (which was put in place essentially to eliminate the tackle eligible passes). But I would do it head on, not through this rule exemption, and I would also increase the time that players must be set before the snap from one second to two or three. (In high school it is only one.) That way, it wouldn't be as difficult for defenses and officials to identify who in the heck is actually eligible or ineligible, which I suppose does reduce the concept's effectiveness. But, since there is no platonic ideal football, it's all about finding what rules make a game we all enjoy. All rules in sports are arbitrary (three strikes, 10 foot high goal posts), so they can all be changed. Here's to the game evolving the right way.
*As noted previously, I got the idea and name for this feature from the excellent Brad DeLong.
I originally wrote this as part of my lengthy (lengthy!) piece on the A-11 offense, but I think it probably got buried. This is something that I depart from many football coaches and purists about. Despite the fact that I have beef with the A-11 offense, one of those contentions is unequivocally not that it is not real football. That's a bogus reason. I have stated many times that football is just a game, and all its rules are arbitrary. I call those who believe otherwise the Platonic Idealists. Below is a reprint of what I previously stated about the offense.
The Platonic-Idealists
[There exists the argument that some offenses are not "real" or "true" football and therefore is bad.]Yet, haven’t we heard this charge before? Yes we have: The spread isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the run and shoot isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the West Coast Offense isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the wishbone isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.At one time the argument was that the entire T formation with a quarterback behind the center wasn’t real or true football and therefore it was bad!
[I]s there some pure, true, Platonic-ideal football?If not, then why? The answer is [no] because football is a game;all the rules - except ones designed around safety - are arbitrary.They might have in mind competitive balance, but this doesn’t make it “true” or “real” in any meaningful sense.What are the most fundamental, “true,” important, or essential rules in football that you can think of?For me, short of the shape of the ball used, my tops would probably be the 100-yard football field, the limit on both sides to eleven players on the field, and the limit on offenses to four downs to score or get a first down.Certainly, all would rank higher than the number of players who might possibly be eligible to receive a forward pass pre-snap, which logically must also rank lower than the number of actually eligible receivers.
Yet, setting aside eight-man football, flag-football, and Arena football, look at Canadian football: the field is 110 yards long, each side has twelve players with six – aside from the quarterback – who are eligible to receive forward passes, and the offense has only three downs to work with.
Now, if the line of scrimmage was abolished and instead of scoring touchdowns by carrying an oblong ball into the end zone teams were instead required to either kick a round ball into a net or by to throw a round ball through a hoop aligned ten feet above the ground then the game could no longer be called football simply because we wouldn’t be able to recognize it as such.But obviously the ability to recognize the sport as football is something far looser than what the “true football” ideologues advocate as eight-man football and Arena Football, to say nothing of the spread, the wishbone, the West Coast Offense, or even, yes, the A-11 offense, are clearly recognizable as football.
So, again, there simply is no such thing as “real” or “true” Platonic football.The next time someone next to you says, upon seeing someone successfully employ a double-reverse pass or some next-wave offensive system, that what you just saw was not “real” football (this group includes many football coaches) you can safely think to yourself that this person has no idea what they are talking about, and you can decide for yourself whether to let them know it (if it’s your Boss or Father-in-Law, I suggest agreeing or simply staying mute).Football is a game designed for fun and its rules are designed for no other reason than to promote fun and safety for players and spectators.
This view is buttressed by the fact that the primary reason for a sport’s rules is tradition, and nowadays most sports, including football, have ruling bodies that establish the law of the land and continually adjust those rules.If there was Platonic-Ideal "true” football, then the believer would have to view these rulemaking bodies as either improperly tampering with the immortal or, somewhat more likely, that they were continuously tinkering with football in its current form to achieve in this world something more closely resembling true, idyllic football through a process that would have to be described less as rule making and instead as divination. Both are, of course, ridiculous, just as the base claim that there is such a thing as Platonic “true” football is ridiculous. I certainly don’t imagine that this is what such rule makers actually see themselves as doing, but if you accept the “true football” argument, those are your inescapable conclusions.
I originally wrote this as part of my lengthy (lengthy!) piece on the A-11 offense, but I think it probably got buried. This is something that I depart from many football coaches and purists about. Despite the fact that I have beef with the A-11 offense, one of those contentions is unequivocally not that it is not real football. That's a bogus reason. I have stated many times that football is just a game, and all its rules are arbitrary. I call those who believe otherwise the Platonic Idealists. Below is a reprint of what I previously stated about the offense.
The Platonic-Idealists
[There exists the argument that some offenses are not "real" or "true" football and therefore is bad.]Yet, haven’t we heard this charge before? Yes we have: The spread isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the run and shoot isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the West Coast Offense isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.And the wishbone isn’t real or true football and therefore it is bad.At one time the argument was that the entire T formation with a quarterback behind the center wasn’t real or true football and therefore it was bad!
[I]s there some pure, true, Platonic-ideal football?If not, then why? The answer is [no] because football is a game;all the rules - except ones designed around safety - are arbitrary.They might have in mind competitive balance, but this doesn’t make it “true” or “real” in any meaningful sense.What are the most fundamental, “true,” important, or essential rules in football that you can think of?For me, short of the shape of the ball used, my tops would probably be the 100-yard football field, the limit on both sides to eleven players on the field, and the limit on offenses to four downs to score or get a first down.Certainly, all would rank higher than the number of players who might possibly be eligible to receive a forward pass pre-snap, which logically must also rank lower than the number of actually eligible receivers.
Yet, setting aside eight-man football, flag-football, and Arena football, look at Canadian football: the field is 110 yards long, each side has twelve players with six – aside from the quarterback – who are eligible to receive forward passes, and the offense has only three downs to work with.
Now, if the line of scrimmage was abolished and instead of scoring touchdowns by carrying an oblong ball into the end zone teams were instead required to either kick a round ball into a net or by to throw a round ball through a hoop aligned ten feet above the ground then the game could no longer be called football simply because we wouldn’t be able to recognize it as such.But obviously the ability to recognize the sport as football is something far looser than what the “true football” ideologues advocate as eight-man football and Arena Football, to say nothing of the spread, the wishbone, the West Coast Offense, or even, yes, the A-11 offense, are clearly recognizable as football.
So, again, there simply is no such thing as “real” or “true” Platonic football.The next time someone next to you says, upon seeing someone successfully employ a double-reverse pass or some next-wave offensive system, that what you just saw was not “real” football (this group includes many football coaches) you can safely think to yourself that this person has no idea what they are talking about, and you can decide for yourself whether to let them know it (if it’s your Boss or Father-in-Law, I suggest agreeing or simply staying mute).Football is a game designed for fun and its rules are designed for no other reason than to promote fun and safety for players and spectators.
This view is buttressed by the fact that the primary reason for a sport’s rules is tradition, and nowadays most sports, including football, have ruling bodies that establish the law of the land and continually adjust those rules.If there was Platonic-Ideal "true” football, then the believer would have to view these rulemaking bodies as either improperly tampering with the immortal or, somewhat more likely, that they were continuously tinkering with football in its current form to achieve in this world something more closely resembling true, idyllic football through a process that would have to be described less as rule making and instead as divination. Both are, of course, ridiculous, just as the base claim that there is such a thing as Platonic “true” football is ridiculous. I certainly don’t imagine that this is what such rule makers actually see themselves as doing, but if you accept the “true football” argument, those are your inescapable conclusions.
Joe Capobianco isn't just one of the most well-known pinup tattoo artists, but my personal favourite. So for Christmas, I thought I'd show a few of his early works, to get that festive spirit into you! Happy Christmas!
Posted by Emily Listiane john
00:56, under | No comments
The above tattoo is on a lady called Michelle, and was brought to my attention by Bill Cohen, who runs the Tattoosday blog, and describes it thus: "The concept behind Tattoosday is the majority of ink being spotted randomly in the streets of New York." There's some really interesting stuff on there, I recommend you check it out. The direct link to the owl post is here.
In a pre-bowl game interview, Georgia Tech's Paul Johnson said:
"We don't have our whole system in yet," Johnson said Monday at the Chick-fil-A coaches luncheon. "We'll use the extra practices to work on some of our run-and-shoot stuff.
"There are a lot of the areas of the offense that we are still not very adept at," he added. "We've got to improve in the passing game. We've got some work to do in all areas there and this will give us that opportunity."
That's enough to make every offensive minded guy salivate. Johnson's vaunted flexbone plus the run and shoot? Like pizza and beer, these two things sound perfect together. But of course things aren't always so rosy. Both the flexbone-triple option and the run and shoot are practice intensive offenses, and I don't think we should expect Georgia Tech to open up and throw for 400 yards when they play LSU. But this isn't a bolt out of the blue; Johnson's been around the 'shoot for a long time and its principles have long been a part of his offense.
Indeed, back in the day Johnson was offensive coordinator for a Navy team that upset Cal in a bowl game by racking up 646 yards, including 395 from the air (and they even used a three-receiver stack formation while doing it). And if you go back and study Johnson's offenses you'll see some of the major run and shoot concepts. As I said though, don't expect Georgia Tech to turn all chuck 'n duck. But what can we expect?
I expect to see two trusty run and shoot concepts in particular to make a fairly prominent appearance: the Switch and the Go.
I have described the "Switch" previously, though there's always different flavors in how you do it.
The concept is, at core, a two man concept. Two receivers release and "switch": The outside guys angle inside for 5-6 yards before pushing vertical, while the inside guy runs a "wheel route" under the outside guy, rubs right off of his hip, and then turns up the sideline. That's when they play gets interesting.
In the original R&S, each receiver had [several] delineated options depending on what coverage he saw. They could break it quick on slants, run vertical routes, post routes, curls or in-cuts. When it worked it was beautiful. But sometimes, to borrow Yeats's phrase, "things fall apart." Or simply it took immense practice time for receivers to get good at running the play.
In my previous post I discussed how some modern teams have adapted and simplified the reads. Expect something along those lines in Johnson's aproach, though he still gives his receivers freedom to find the open spots. Remember, option football is a mentality, and it applies to passing as well as running.
The other play, the "Go," is another classic. It is a "trips" route where the outside guy runs a go route or take-off vertical, the middle receiver (usually the guy in motion) runs a "middle-read" or "seam-read" that divides the middle of the field, and the inside guy in trips runs a little flat route after jabbing inside. The play works on a few levels: first, you often get the flat route guy open on a rub off the seam-read receiver's hip; and second the go, backside go, and seam-read often divide up the deep middle coverage to create open spaces for big plays. The thought process is to keep throwing that flat route until they come up for it and then hit them with a big play, either down the sideline or in the seams.
But, if you want someone to explain how the "Go" works, then why not ask June Jones?
Two notes. First, observe that Davie in the video says that the two toughest offenses to depend are the 'shoot and the wishbone, and further note that the flexbone is merely a form of the wishbone. Johnson knows what he's doing.
Also I just want to point out that the only real differences between what Johnson would do with the "Go" and what June Jones would do would be: (a) the slots would be tight-slots rather than slot-receivers; (b) the quarterback would be under center rather than in shotgun (thus actually making the quarterback more of a running-threat when he looks at the flat route as with the original shoot); and (c) the reads for the slot-receiver may - or may not be - somewhat simplified. That really depends on the slot receiver and quarterback. Johnson is not beyond giving them full-freedom, though he can't emphasize it every day in practice like pass-happy June Jones does and still be able to execute his option attack. Like everything else in football, it's a balance.
Update: I want to note that I made a correction to the above: it was actually Navy that upset Cal in that bowl game (which happened to take place in Hawai'i). Though Johnson was OC at Hawai'i at one time as well.
In a pre-bowl game interview, Georgia Tech's Paul Johnson said:
"We don't have our whole system in yet," Johnson said Monday at the Chick-fil-A coaches luncheon. "We'll use the extra practices to work on some of our run-and-shoot stuff.
"There are a lot of the areas of the offense that we are still not very adept at," he added. "We've got to improve in the passing game. We've got some work to do in all areas there and this will give us that opportunity."
That's enough to make every offensive minded guy salivate. Johnson's vaunted flexbone plus the run and shoot? Like pizza and beer, these two things sound perfect together. But of course things aren't always so rosy. Both the flexbone-triple option and the run and shoot are practice intensive offenses, and I don't think we should expect Georgia Tech to open up and throw for 400 yards when they play LSU. But this isn't a bolt out of the blue; Johnson's been around the 'shoot for a long time and its principles have long been a part of his offense.
Indeed, back in the day Johnson was offensive coordinator for a Navy team that upset Cal in a bowl game by racking up 646 yards, including 395 from the air (and they even used a three-receiver stack formation while doing it). And if you go back and study Johnson's offenses you'll see some of the major run and shoot concepts. As I said though, don't expect Georgia Tech to turn all chuck 'n duck. But what can we expect?
I expect to see two trusty run and shoot concepts in particular to make a fairly prominent appearance: the Switch and the Go.
I have described the "Switch" previously, though there's always different flavors in how you do it.
The concept is, at core, a two man concept. Two receivers release and "switch": The outside guys angle inside for 5-6 yards before pushing vertical, while the inside guy runs a "wheel route" under the outside guy, rubs right off of his hip, and then turns up the sideline. That's when they play gets interesting.
In the original R&S, each receiver had [several] delineated options depending on what coverage he saw. They could break it quick on slants, run vertical routes, post routes, curls or in-cuts. When it worked it was beautiful. But sometimes, to borrow Yeats's phrase, "things fall apart." Or simply it took immense practice time for receivers to get good at running the play.
In my previous post I discussed how some modern teams have adapted and simplified the reads. Expect something along those lines in Johnson's aproach, though he still gives his receivers freedom to find the open spots. Remember, option football is a mentality, and it applies to passing as well as running.
The other play, the "Go," is another classic. It is a "trips" route where the outside guy runs a go route or take-off vertical, the middle receiver (usually the guy in motion) runs a "middle-read" or "seam-read" that divides the middle of the field, and the inside guy in trips runs a little flat route after jabbing inside. The play works on a few levels: first, you often get the flat route guy open on a rub off the seam-read receiver's hip; and second the go, backside go, and seam-read often divide up the deep middle coverage to create open spaces for big plays. The thought process is to keep throwing that flat route until they come up for it and then hit them with a big play, either down the sideline or in the seams.
But, if you want someone to explain how the "Go" works, then why not ask June Jones?
Two notes. First, observe that Davie in the video says that the two toughest offenses to depend are the 'shoot and the wishbone, and further note that the flexbone is merely a form of the wishbone. Johnson knows what he's doing.
Also I just want to point out that the only real differences between what Johnson would do with the "Go" and what June Jones would do would be: (a) the slots would be tight-slots rather than slot-receivers; (b) the quarterback would be under center rather than in shotgun (thus actually making the quarterback more of a running-threat when he looks at the flat route as with the original shoot); and (c) the reads for the slot-receiver may - or may not be - somewhat simplified. That really depends on the slot receiver and quarterback. Johnson is not beyond giving them full-freedom, though he can't emphasize it every day in practice like pass-happy June Jones does and still be able to execute his option attack. Like everything else in football, it's a balance.
Update: I want to note that I made a correction to the above: it was actually Navy that upset Cal in that bowl game (which happened to take place in Hawai'i). Though Johnson was OC at Hawai'i at one time as well.
