The pro-football reference blog recently mentioned something I found fascinating:
What about rushing? . . . .In modern times, most RBs have a median carry length of three yards. I suspect that’s been the case for the majority of RBs for a long time. LenDale White and his 3.9 YPC last season? Median rush of 3 yards. Adrian Peterson and his 4.8 YPC? Median rush of 3 yards.
I think this has powerful implications. If most runningbacks tend to have the same median rush, then those who are more effective -- and hence have higher averages -- would be almost exclusively based on their big-play ability. (That big-play ability could still come in different forms, i.e. the guy who consistently can turn five yarders into 15 yarders, or the guy who can break every 10th or 15th rush into a 50 yarder.)
But this would imply that the powerback, or at least the powerback who is not considered so explosive, is overrated. (Earl Campbell could run you over and break off big gains.) The point is just that the premium would not be on the player's results on the average plays, but instead on the longer ones. Some of this too can be the surrounding cast. Indeed, as Homer Smith has said, a runningback who gets 130 yards on 20 carries plays in a better offense (either because of him or for whatever other reason) than a guy who gets 145 on 35 carries.
But this does all assume that average yards per carry is the most important stat. I'm not sure all would agree that it is. (In fact, I think the PFR Blog folks might not agree, as they ranked runningbacks and included their total carries and pure total yards as a key factor.) I'm not convinced that more carries means a better back or better running game, as that depends on the game situation (does the team get a lot of leads?) and also that the play-calling is optimal. I can also buy that on 3rd and 3, or third and goal, the point is to convert, not to help the average.
Yet then how else can we evaluate running backs, or even a running game more generally? A perusal of the best offenses and running games in college tends to show that the best all have high yards per carry; not too many BCS teams have averaged fewer than 4.5 yards per carry, and several have averaged well over five yards per rush attempt (including sacks, which count against the run game total in college).
So I'm opening the floor to better ideas. IF yards per attempt is the best metric (for either an individual back or a team's run game), and IF the median truly is right around 3 yards for great and average backs alike, then the difference between good and mediocre runningbacks and rushing teams would seem to be wholly in the explosiveness of the upper 50% of plays: a good team or player can rip off big gains, and turn big gains into touchdowns, while the average plays for both is about the same. (And maybe negative plays are overrated.)
But I'm interesting in everyone's thoughts on this question. How do you evaluate the running game?
The discussion surrounding evaluating the run game was great. I will have more to add, but I wanted to highlight some of the best commentary. First, I did want to say that my focus was generally on two aspects, and I don't think I made that clear.
One, I really am more interested in running games, or a team's ability to run, than I am in one runningback versus another. I definitely play fantasy football myself, but it's not the reason I get interested in football stats. Instead I want to know how good an offense is, and then secondarily how good a particular play is; whether Barry Sanders or Emmitt Smith is better is usually not a discussion I get into. As a result I don't mind so much that it's hard to disassociate how good a runningback is from how good the line is, or the faking, etc. From an evaluation perspective, if you can analyze one play being better than another, then you can pretty easily ask if it is scheme or execution, and thus concepts or players.
Second, I do prefer to focus on easily observable stats. Some of this is maybe my laziness, but that's one big appeal of yards per carry: I know it has little application on third down. (One yard could be a success if it converts for a first down, and eight yards could be a failure if it was third and ten -- but then what if the draw was a good call rather than an interception or a sack? I digress.) That is just mainly aimed at seemingly interesting stats that would be a practical nightmare, based on every play and then a subjective interpretation of how many guys he bounced off of or his vision and cutback versus contact, etc -- you get the idea.
Anyway, Bill Connelly of Football Outsiders (and RockMNation) had actually discussed this fairly recently:
Regular Varsity Numbers readers have probably become familiar with some of the basic VN concepts, namely PPP (Points Per Play) and the "+". PPP is a measure of explosiveness--the amount of Equivalent Points (EqPts) averaged per play. The "+" number compares an offense's output to the output expected against a given defense, and vice versa. With the "+" number, 100 is average, anything above 100 is good, and anything below 100 is bad.
Points Over Expected
Is there any way to use these concepts to come up with a good rushing measure? Of course! Meet POE (Points Over Expected), the collegiate stepchild of DYAR. Whereas a rusher's PPP+ would compare his EqPts output to what would be expected, and is therefore great for measuring an offense's overall effectiveness, POE is cumulative. It is a comparison of a rusher's total EqPts to the Expected EqPt total, subtracting the latter from the former.
POE = EqPts - Expected EqPts. . . .
Most Varsity Numbers measures, in one way or another, bounce output versus expected output. POE, a brother to PPP and cousin to S&P and S&P+, does just that. POE, which intends to both evaluate both per-play and cumulative success, could also be used to evaluate receivers and tight ends, but that will be hard without good "pass intended for _____" data (some college play-by-plays record detailed information in this regard, others do not). Right now, it is an RB-only figure, but it is a pretty good one.
Not sure I entirely buy this as the best method (requires getting into the nitty gritty of FO's methods), but overall this is a good starting spot. It tends to reward the explosive players.
Moving to the comments, a few highlights, though all were excellent. Brad said:
I don't think getting long runs is the only way a back can improve his average. He can also do so by getting less short gains.
Think of a back that gets 3 yds minimum on slightly over half of his carries and gets 6 yds on the rest. Then compare him to a back that gets loses a yard on a third of his carries gets 3 yards on a third of his carries and gains 10 yards on a third of his carries.
Both backs have a median rush of 3 yds, but the first back averages around 5 yds per carry while the second one averages only 4. However the second back clearly has more "Big play potential" because he gains 10 yards on 1/3 of his runs.
My point is that a back can improve his average vs median both by getting more long gains OR by having less short runs. Which of these two things that great backs do is a question for the data.
I should have conceptualized this better in the first place, because this helps explain why Reggie Bush has been such a mediocre rusher in the NFL. It's not his explosiveness (though he hasn't broken many very long runs), but his routine bad plays. It also is why Emmitt Smith and Barry Sanders are so hard to compare: Barry's stat line was full of negative plays and small gains, but checkered with the spectacular long runs. Emmitt Smith, the opposite. (And I don't think with Barry it was all just jump and bad blocking; it was also just his running style. Do you think he would have fit in well with the Denver Broncos "one-cut-and-go" philosophy? People say "oh, if he had played for them he would have had 3,000 yards but I'm not so sure.)
Tom points me to another good bit from Football Outsiders, this time by Mike Tanier, quoted at length:
The 4.0-4.1 yard average is an arithmetic mean: add up all the yards, divide by the attempts. The arithmetic mean is easily skewed by extremes in data. A 75-yard run can increase a starting running back's rushing average by several tenths of a point by the end of a season. This skewing always increases rushing averages: there are several 50+ yard rushes every year, but no 50+ yard losses on running plays.
We all know that a few big plays can make a mediocre running back's rushing average look great. But how much effect do long gains have on the league rushing average? The best way to see this is to break down every running play by distance. . . . The table reveals a surprising fact: the mean carry may yield four yards, but the median carry yields only three yards, and the data distribution is centered at two yards. . . .
Over 20 percent of running plays gain zero or one yards. Factor in losses, and over one-fourth of all runs result in negative or negligible yardage. The rushing average for the plays in the -4-to-10 yard range in 2005 was 2.95 yards per attempt. Long runs make up only about nine percent of all rushing plays, but they increase the league rushing average by over 40 percent. . . .
As a way of negating the importance of team strength as well as studying the contrasts between rushing styles, let's examine a pair of teammates from 2005.
Last season, Tatum Bell gained 920 yards and averaged 5.3 yards per carry. Mike Anderson gained 1,014 yards but averaged just 4.2 yards per carry. Despite the wide disparity in yards per carry, DVOA and DPAR ranked Anderson as the better back. Anderson was 37.0 points above replacement level, Bell 16.4. Anderson was 20.3 percent better than the average back, Bell just 7.6 percent.
Bell's rushing average was inflated by several long runs: he had a 68, 67, and 55 yard run in 2005, plus several 35-yard runs. Anderson's longest carry of the season was 44 yards, and that was his only run longer than 25 yards. We all know that Bell is a "home run threat" while Anderson is more consistent. But is it really fair to downgrade Bell because of his long runs? We're inclined to downgrade Bell somewhat because so much of his value is contained in a few plays. But is that really fair? After all, gaining four yards at a time is great and all, but big plays are pretty important, too. . . .
Anderson's yardage distribution is centered in the 2-3 yard range, while Bell's is centered in the 1-2 yard range, giving Anderson a full yard-per-play advantage on carry after carry. Bell's advantage, of course, is on runs of more than 10 yards. All but 6.5 percent of Anderson's runs gain from -4 to 10 yards, while 10.5 percent of Bell's runs are outside the chart (he only lost five yards on one play last season). Give them both 200 carries, and Bell will have eight more long runs than Anderson, and those runs will be longer than what Anderson can usually muster. But Anderson will gain an extra yard that Bell couldn't on dozens of other
runs. . . .
Anderson's in-the-box mean was 3.36 yards per attempt, noting again that his "box" is larger. Bell's was just 2.67. What's interesting is that we tend to think of backs like Anderson as "ordinary" while backs with Bell's big-play potential are held in higher esteem. But Bell's rushing distribution is more in line with the league norms than Anderson's. He's very good, but his contributions are typical of what backs around the league provide. Anderson, at least in 2005, was the unique player, providing hard-to-get, down-in, down-out production.
The difference between Bell and Anderson suggests that "cloud of dust" backs are more valuable than "boom or bust" backs, but we must be careful when using cheesy labels. Our perception of a back's production profile are often way off. How would you classify Marshall Faulk in his prime? Probably as a boom-or-bust back, albeit one with lots of boom and only a little bust.
But Faulk's running distributions show that in his prime he was much more than a big-play machine. . . .
Faulk's in-the-box mean was 3.37, a very good figure. What's more, his "box" only included 86 percent of his runs. Faulk had seven 12-yard runs, six 16-yard runs, and three 18-yard runs in 2000, giving him a very high percentage of 11-20 yard runs. But what's most remarkable about his production was his ability to avoid no-gainers and his above-average totals in the 3-5 yard range. Fast, shifty Faulk was just as good at using his skills to gain a yard or two as he was at burning defenses for long gains.
By contrast, [Jonathan] Stewart's ability to avoid losses and pick up two or three yards couldn't offset his complete lack of big-play potential. At first glance, Stewart's distribution looks similar to Anderson's. But his in-the-box mean of 2.8 is over a half-yard lower. The differences are subtle -- Anderson is a little more likely to gain five or six yards and a little less likely to lose yardage -- but they add up over a few hundred carries. And Stewart, like Anderson, concentrated 95 percent of his carries in the -4-to-10 yard range, so he had few 10-20 yard bursts to increase his productivity. Stewart, like Anderson, was providing a unique skill, which is why he was able to stay in the league for several years. Unlike Anderson, he wasn't a great exemplar of that skill, and the Football Outsiders metrics took him to task for it. . . .
Teams don't generate rushing yards in three-, four-, or five-yard bursts. They gain it through punctuated equilibrium, waiting through dozens of minimal gains for a few big plays per game.
And those big plays aren't that big. We've focused on gains of ten or less in this article, ignoring the 10.5 percent or so of plays that yield more yardage. The vast majority of those runs gain 11-20 yards: 6.9 percent overall. Almost 25 percent of the rushing yardage gained in the NFL is generated on runs of 11-20 yards. There were 960 such runs last year: 30 per team, or just over two per team per game. Amazingly nearly 10 percent of all rushing yardage is generated on runs of 30 or more yards, plays which occur about four times per year for a typical team.
These distribution breakdowns are so interesting that they might seduce us into making some wacky conclusions. Keep in mind that all of these averages and distribution patterns are situation dependent. . . .
Without further study, we shouldn't leap to grand conclusions. But we know this much: if we expect to gain four or five yards on every running play, we're going to be disappointed most of the time. No wonder passing totals have been creeping up for decades. If all a handoff gets you is two yards and a cloud of dust, you might as well throw the ball.
Lots going on here, but it mostly just reinforces what we know: Backs and teams have different styles, and it is not always easy to compare them; you want a guy who (a) does not lose yardage, (b) consistently gets positive yardage, and (c) is a big-play threat. They don't always come that way, so it is interesting that Tanier and FO conclude that the consistent back is simply better than the big-play threat. I'd like to see more to support that -- i.e. that the "dozens of first downs" or extra yards Anderson might have pulled down for the team were worth more than Tatum Bell's big plays. I'm not saying I disagree, but that it is interesting. That kind of conclusion could have troubling implications for a guy like, say, Barry Sanders, or moreso Reggie Bush.
Chase of the PFR Blog points out marginal yards, and adds:
I looked at rushing yards over 3.0 yards per carry. However, as the author has implied, I've begun shifting my focus away from yards per carry.
Rushing first downs is a key part of evaluating a running game. Without play by play information, I'd want to focus on rushing first downs, rushing yards, rushing TDs and carries.
I think this is good; rushing first downs should be part of the evaluation. According to CFBStats, last season's top first-down teams in college football are an expected bunch:
1. Air Force
2. Tulsa
3. Navy
4. Nevada (tie)
4. Oklahoma State (tie)
6. Oregon
7. TCU
8. Florida
9. Oklahoma
10. Georgia Tech
As a side note, I do think yards per carry is most useful on first down, and CFB Stats (as well as the pro-football reference site), has a ready breakdown of rushing stats by down, for all teams. For example, the yards per carry of the top 5 teams in the country last year, limited solely to first down, were:
Each team had over 1,600 yards on first down alone (everyone bud Oregon had over 1,800, and Nevada over 2,000). And those averages -- yes I just pasted that thing from FO saying you can't solely look at averages -- indicates that these teams had a lot of favorable down and distances to convert (Louisiana-Lafayette, the one seemingly strange entry, was in the top 15 of total offense last year despite not being a great throwing team).
In the end ... I have to think about this question some more. I think we're moving in the right direction, as, again, part of my motivation is to find handy and easy to use stats (thus one reason I dislike the idea of some kind of "running back efficiency rating" like they use with quarterbacks). I agree that the debate is going to be between styles of running game (or running back), as well as situation. I would imagine that teams like Oregon or Georgia Tech are going to have much different looking rushing distributions than, say, Wisconsin. But we're on our way down the path to the end.
End note: I'll be on vacation this week. I have a couple of posts set to go up, but otherwise I'll be out of pocket until next weekend/week. Cheers.
Check out the highlights of the 1980 Sugar Bowl (between Bryant's Crimson Tide and Lou Holtz's Arkansas Razorbacks) for some great wishbone stuff, but, as reader Ben Smith points out, they show a decidedly "flexbone" look at the 3:16 mark.
I wrote a brief overview of the Nevada Wolfpack's pistol offense for Dr Saturday. One interesting play that I didn't have the space to mention was their "horn" play, which is kind of like a combination between the old counter-trey and the pin-and-pull version of the outside zone.
The mechanics are fairly simple. They always run it to the tight end side. The playside of the line (the side the ball is going to) basically alternates between "down blocks" and "pull blocks": the tight-end blocks down on the defensive end, while the tackle pulls and kicks out the outside linebacker; and the playside guard blocks down on the defensive tackle or nose guard, while the center pulls and leads (called a "fold block") up to the linebacker. On the backside, the line essentially steps down and seals off the pursuit.
In the backfield, the quarterback reverses out and the runner takes a few counter or delay steps before starting to the playside.
The idea is to get some misdirection but not to use full pullers like on counter-trey; that way the linebackers freeze and don't flow so fast to where the run is going. Relatedly, they get good angles on the playside with all the "down blocks" and kickouts. The runner can either cut it inside the tackle behind the pulling center, or between the tight-end's down block and the tackle's kick out, or take it completely around end. Below is a video clip of Nevada running this play. (And check out the effort the center gives, even if he doesn't actually block anyone.)
In a conference full of coaches with championship rings (Urban Meyer, Steve Spurrier, Nick Saban, Les Miles, etc), and another who no one can stop talking about, a former high school coach continues to receive his fair share of scrutiny. And he's not even the head coach: enter Gus Malzahn, new Auburn offensive coordinator. Malzahn has been asked to deliver on the promise that Tommy Tuberville and Tony Franklin failed to; namely, a "spread" offense that actually produces.
When Auburn hired Malzahn I described his philosophy, which can be easily gleaned from the forthright title of his book, The Hurry-Up, No-Huddle: An Offensive Philosophy. As I said before, he is overall less concerned with the specific Xs and Os in employ than with the speed at which the offense goes:
There are a few differences here between Malzahn's offense and 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. . . .
[N]obody does what Malzahn does. If some no-huddle teams, like Franklin's, are light-speed, then Malzahn wants to spend the entire game in something akin to "ludicrous speed."
This past spring, Malzahn installed his offense with signs of progress, though he has yet to get everyone up to his preferred "ludicrous speed" yet. That will come. With talk about his overarching philosophy out of the way, however, it's still worth asking what his Xs and Os will actually look like. And, if spring practice is any indication, we know the answer: a lot like they did at Tulsa.
At Tulsa, Malzahn, with co-offensive coordinator Herb Hand (who deserves as much credit as Malzahn), blew the doors off just about everyone they played. In 2007, they were: sixth in scoring (41.1 per game), first in yards (543.9 per game), and third in yards per play (6.8). In 2008, after losing their quarterback Paul Smith -- who had thrown for 47 touchdowns the year before -- the offense actually improved: second in scoring (47.2 points per game), first in yards (569.9 per game), and yards per play (7.3). Much of that improvement came from the running game, which jumped from 172.93 yards per game in 2007 to 268.00 in 2008.
Indeed, Malzahn actually predicted this improvement via run game back then. After his first season at Tulsa, he did in an interview with ESPN:
Q: What makes your spread offense potent as compared to say, a Texas Tech or Missouri or a team like that?
Gus Malzahn: We're a run, play-action team. A lot of spread teams are pass first, run second. But we're a run, play-action team. As a matter of fact, I think we ran the ball one more time than we threw it last year, which a lot of people don't know. We like to be 50-50 and be able to do both well.
All that said, you can still consider me slightly skeptical of his claim to being a smashmouth guy. Back in his high school days, and even during his time at Arkansas, those around Gus always said if he had his way he would have thrown it about as much as was humanly possible. We're talking Mike Leach, June Jones stuff. But, people change, and his experience with Coaches Graham and Hand at Tulsa (much moreso than his experience with Nutt at Arkansas) appears to have heavily influenced him. Hand, a Rich Rodriguez disciple, not only helped implement many of Malzahn's ideas, he also brought many of his own to the table, particularly regarding the spread run game.
But the proof is in the pudding. I am familiar with what Tulsa did, and I finally have been able to see what Auburn implemented during spring practice. And it is much as I expected: it is a smash-mouth spread operation. Indeed, the spring offense was notable for quarterback inconsistency, yes, but also for big, big plays from the running game.
As a preview for this upcoming season I will describe three plays Malzahn can be expected to use at Auburn, none of them particularly revolutionary: the counter, the zone-read with bubble screens as a read, and the power. Each has old roots, though Malzahn will do his best to aid their effectiveness through lots of motions, fakes, and shifts. Expect the tight-ends or H-backs to play a big role in the offense in making key blocks, and also expect to see lots of wide receiver motion, with their either getting the ball on reverses or as pitch men on the option, or merely faking so.
Counter play
The counter play is age-old, though was popularized and made famous by Joe Gibbs's Redskins, though he admits to stealing it from Tom Osborne's Nebraska teams. On the "counter trey," the playside (the side the run is eventually going to) "down" blocks, leaving the defensive end unblocked. They work together to double-team defensive linemen on their way to the linebackers. From the backside, one linemen, usually the backside guard, pulls and kicks out the defensive end or outside linebacker; it is actually a "trap" block. The other component of the blocking is that another player from the backside, sometimes the backside tackle and other times a full-back or H-back, will pull and "lead" into the hole, blocking the first linebacker he sees. The runningback takes a counter step or two, and then simply follows the pulling blocker's block, and cuts off of it. Below is a diagram of how the play has traditionally been run, from the I-formation, courtesy of Trojan Football Analysis. (The diagram is of Nebraska, and see this post for a great breakdown of how the great Husker teams of the 90s ran the play.)
So what does it look like when Malzahn uses it? Well it's basically the same, except he might show a few different things before the snap. Specifically, he might use an H-back or fullback type player who comes from the backside to be the "puller" who leads into the hole, and that player might begin the play split out wide and motion in across the formation. Or, the runningback himself might motion into the backfield. There's lots of options. Below, however, is a diagram of what Malzahn did in the spring game; the play went for a long touchdown twice in the spring game (thanks to good blocking and some weak angles by the defense).
To take one of the examples before getting to the film clips, the offense lined up in a basic shotgun set, with one runningback, one H-back, and three receivers.
I have only drawn paths for two players: the backside guard pulls and kicks out the defensive end, while the H-back pulls and leads into the hole (and eventually also kicks out the linebacker, though he could have just as easily "hooked" him inside, had the linebacker stepped that way). The rest of the line just blocks down, and the runningback takes his slight counter steps and explodes into the hole, following the H-back's block. To see it all in action, check out the film clips from the spring game this past year.
If all this looks familiar, even from a spread set, it should. Compare what Malzahn is doing above with what Urban Meyer does at Florida. First a diagram, then basically the exact same play run with Percy Harvin. There are differences, but most of them are cosmetic.
Same play. Auburn is just hoping it works as well for them as it has for Florida.
Zone-read with bubble screen
I won't get too far into the basics of the zone read; I have both discussed it previously and also plan to go more in depth in the future as teams defend it differently nowadays. What you can expect from Malzahn and Auburn is much in the mainstream in terms of the play. The line will zone block, and the runningback will look for a vertical crease. The quarterback will read the backside end to determine where or not to give the ball to the back or keep it himself. The one wrinkle Malzahn brings -- which again, is something Rich Rodriguez has been doing for some time -- is to build the bubble screen on the backside in. Basically, if the backside pursuit cheats in too much, Auburn has its constraint play built in: the quarterback can always pull the ball and throw the bubble. Below is a diagram and a video of Auburn running the zone with the bubble on the backside, though the quarterback just gives it to the runner.
Power
The "power" run is another that has ancient, "power football" roots but has been adapted to the spread. And it, again, is very simple: the line essentially "down" blocks, meaning they block the men over them or to their inside, and will use teamwork to combination block the defensive linemen until one releases to hit the linebackers. The exception is the defensive end or other outside, on the line of scrimmage defender. (Aptly referred to as the EMLOS -- "end man on the line of scrimmage.") The fullback -- or H-back, or someone -- plows at him to kick him out, thus opening a crease.
The crease becomes a hole, however, because the backside guard pulls and "leads" into it to block the linebacker, or other first threatening defender. In this way the blocking works much as it does on "counter," but with more of a frontside attack. Below is a diagram of how an NFL team runs the play; it is in every NFL team's playbook. (Click on the diagram to make it larger.)
And below is a common look Malzahn ran "power" from while at Tulsa, using the "pistol" (short shotgun with the runningback directly behind the quarterback) and a cross between an H-back and a fullback. See below.
This will be a common set for Auburn. Malzahn likes lining up with three wide receivers, but then also likes the versatility of the H-back/tight-end/fullback type as a blocker in a variety of directions. Again, compare his straight ahead blocking on "power" with his about face to the opposite side on "counter." (And with the pistol set the runningback could go either direction.)
Conclusion
So this is about what you can expect: some basic plays -- including power plays -- from spread sets with lots of shifts and motion, all at a top speed. Malzahn will try to go for some play-action and big plays off of this; I may diagram some of those later. How well it all works will depend on execution, particularly by the quarterbacks. Time will tell.
But a final thought. Another thing to expect from Auburn's offense this year will be lots of motion from the wide receivers and their use as a threat to run as well as catch. Now, all of these "versatility" roles -- H-backs and receivers as running threats -- depends on depth and skill at those positions (easier if you have Percy Harvin), but Malzahn likes to to give the look so as to at least present the problem to the defense. From the "power" look above, Malzahn likes to motion an outside wide receiver completely behind the runningback, and he then gets into a pitch relationship with the quarterback for an option. This way Malzahn can fake the power play and run the speed option with the quarterback (Kodi Burns?) with the receiver as a pitch man. It's fun stuff, at least when it works. Once he has done that, the very fact of the receiver in motion tends to help draw defenders when they do simply hand it off to the runningback on the power play.
Will it work in the SEC? I don't know, but if it does, expect plays like the one in the video below to be on all the highlight reels. Notice how the motion by one receiver sets up the sweep in the opposite direction by the other. With Malzahn's offense, don't just try to watch the ball, because that will rarely ever tell you where it actually is.
[Ed. Note: This is Part 2 of Manny Matsakis's presentation of his "Triple Shoot" offense. Check out the tripleshoot website here.]
Part 2 - Run Game and Play passes
The general makeup of the offense includes a run game, play passes, drop-back passing attack and exotics. The following is an overview of each area of the offense:
Run Game
This aspect of the offense is broken up into the Belly series, Trap series and Dive series. Our linemen work daily on their zone, veer, trap and double team blocks in order to maximize our consistency in rushing the ball.
The primary series of the offense is the Belly series, which is influenced by triple option (Hambone) and zone blocking. This was also complimented by a backfield action that I was able to glean from “Dutch” Meyers book, Spread Formation Football (albeit, he did this out of the shotgun) and some basic Wing-T concepts. The Belly series consists of the Pop Out (I have heard it also called the Jet or Fly Sweep) and the following dive plays, Veer and Zone as well as the change-up plays of the Option and Reverse. The key in executing each of these aspects of the Belly series is in the actual “ride” of the motion receiver by the QB and the subsequent fake or hand-off to the Superback, in order to draw attention to the potential Pop Out around the edge or the dive play to the back. Ideally, our Pop Out and dive plays will look the same for the first 3 steps and then become the actual play called prior to the snap of the ball. The change-up plays of Option and Reverse are designed to take advantage of fast flowing linebackers and defensive line slants.
Pop Out
Zone
Veer
Option
Reverse
Play Passes
The key to the play pass is that for the first three steps of the run series associated with it, the backfield and blocking must stay consistent (Bill Walsh). I know we are coming along when we stop the video at this point and we are not be able to tell if it is a run or a pass. Play Passes are called when the secondary is rolling or linebackers are so keyed-in to the run series that they disregard the potential of a pass over the top.
Our base play passes are executed off of our top run series, the Belly series. We practice two primary play passes, one to the front side (Wheel) and one to the backside (Switch). Regarding play pass protection, we put the Superback on the front side linebacker as we fake the Pop Out play and all the other linemen are aggressive in their execution of selling the run play.
Even Wheel
The Wheel is run out of our Even (balanced) formation and this play is good versus Nickel or Dime coverage. The play begins with the inside receiver coming in motion, the QB will then ride the receiver on a Pop Out fake as he turns to the oncoming receiver. The action will continue with a fake to the Superback. The QB will then set up just outside the play-side Guard and throw the Wheel combination. The QB will look to throw the ball to the Post first, then to the Wheel up the boundary. Often times the Wheel is thrown to the back shoulder of the receiver.
Receivers will take their first 3 steps (as if stalk blocking) and then break into their routes. The outside play-side receiver will break on a Post (5th Step) while the inside receiver will run through the breakpoint of the Post route.
Load Switch
The Switch route is run out of one of our trips formations (Rip or Load) and this play is also good versus Nickel or Dime coverage. The play begins with the number 3 receiver backside coming in motion for the Pop Out fake. The QB will simulate the same action as he did in Wheel. This time he will look backside to the Stretch route, which is running up inside the backside hash mark.
The two backside receivers will run the Switch combination on the backside in the following manner. The outside receiver backside will come first and get inside the hash mark at a point 7 yards up field while the number 2 receiver will run through the point where the outside receiver crossed his face and he will continue up the sideline. The outside receiver is responsible to read the deep zone defender over him. If that man is a Cover 3 safety, that defender may run downhill to tackle the Pop Out and if he does that, the receiver will continue on a thin post. If he stays high over the top, then the receiver will break his route flat at a depth of 12 yards to get open underneath the free safety. The Cover 2 conversion is predicated on the action of the backside safety. If he rolls to Cover 3, then the receiver will apply his Cover 3 rules. If he stays on the hash mark, the receiver will break it flat at 12 yards.
The QB will look to the backside Stretch route adjustment first and then to the route up the boundary. The boundary route is often times a back shoulder throw.
[Ed. Note. For more on the "switch" concept, see here.]
Play passes are often adjusted as we get through the season to take advantage of how defenses are geared up to slow down our Belly series.
Tomorrow, an overview of the dropback passing game.
[Ed. Note: For the next four days regular -- or irregular! -- blogging will be suspended and in its place is an overview of Manny Matsakis's creation, the "Triple Shoot." The offense is a hybrid combination of a fly sweep offense and the run and shoot. Check out the triple shoot website. Again, the words below are Manny's, as he has been kind enough to write this out. Enjoy.]
Part 1 - Historical Perspective
It all started with a fascination of the 3 distinctly different offenses the Wing-T, Run & Shoot and the Georgia Southern Hambone. From there it evolved with specific influence and personal contact with the following coaches, Ben Griffith (Inventor of the Hambone), Glenn “Tiger” Ellison, Darrell “Mouse” Davis and Bill Walsh. As an additional note, Leo “Dutch” Meyer’s book, Spread Formation Football gave me an idea on how to create an explosive rushing attack (albeit, it was not the purpose of his book). Having started American Football QuarterlyÆ in 1993, while waiting to take a job at Kansas State University, gave me access to all of the aforementioned individuals, except coach Meyer.
In the early 1990’s, I was working on my Ph.D. and while finishing my coursework I began a research project, which evolved into the Triple Shoot Offense. The title of the dissertation project was, “The History and Evolution of the Run & Shoot Offense in American Football.”
Development of the Offense
Researching the state of football and developing axioms and creating postulates based on those axioms created this offense. My initial axioms of the game were as follows:
1. The game of football has freedoms, purposes and barriers that give spread formation attacks a distinct advantage.
2. A systems approach to football has the greatest potential for success over a period of time.
3. When players are more knowledgeable about their system than the opponent is theirs they have the greatest potential for success.
4. A balanced approach to offensive strategy has the greatest potential for success over a period of time.
5. A system that appears complex, yet is simple to execute will stand the test of time.
These following postulates were the results of analyzing the previous axioms:
1. Spreading the field with offensive personnel creates mis-matches and distinct angles to attack the defense.
2. Utilizing a no-huddle attack enables an offense to control the clock and give the players a better understanding of the defense they are attacking.
3. A 2-point stance by offensive linemen gives them better recognition and a lower “center of gravity” at the point of attack.
4. A protection based on the principle of “firm: front-side & soft: backside” enables an offense to take advantage of any defensive front by keeping them off balance.
5. Run blocking schemes that combine Veer, Zone and Trap blocking enables an offense to run the ball versus any defensive front.
6. Pass schemes that adjust routes based on coverage on the run will open up holes in the secondary.
7. Quarterback decisions based on looks & reads give the offense the ability to release the ball anywhere from 1 to 5 steps. This will minimize the amount of time necessary for pass protection.
Triple Shoot Offense Defined
The Triple Shoot Offense is a systems oriented, no-huddle, four receiver, one back attack that is balanced in its ability to run or pass the ball at any time during a game. It is predicated on spreading the field and attacking a pre-ordered defense with blocking and route adjustments after the play begins.
Ordering Up The Defense
The concept of “ordering up the defense” is one that I learned from “Tiger” Ellison. His concept was to place a label on each defensive man (numbering), and from that to designate a specific defender that would tell his players what to do, either by the place he lined up before the ball was snapped or by his movement after the snap.
The Triple Shoot Offense took that information and decided to look at defensive alignments based on the way they matched up to a 4 receiver, one-back formation and designated defenses as either Nickel, Dime, Blitz or they were considered unsound. Nickel looks are based on six men in the box with one free safety, Dime looks have five men in the box with two safeties and Blitz is recognized when there are seven defenders in the box and no safety over the top. Anything else is an unsound defense that we hope a team is willing to attempt.
In order to keep defenses in these alignments we utilize a variety of concepts, from widening our inside receivers to calling specific plays that put a bind on any defender that tries to play both the front and the coverage. When we get to the point where we can do this, the offense is at its most optimum in production.
For a team that throws it as much as Texas Tech does with Mike Leach, I get a surprising number of questions about the Airraid run game. The reason, I suppose, is that if you throw the ball a lot you need a good complementary run game that will take advantage of the defense when it overreacts to your passing game but also doesn't require too much practice time.
This topic deserves a fuller discussion later, but I was sparked when I saw these clips of Texas Tech's spring football. Video below (hat tip Tortilla Report via Double-T Nation):
Okay, you might be saying, I see some guys running around, but what does it mean? Again, this topic deserves a fuller treatment, but here's some diagrams and quick explanations of Leach and Texas Tech's main run plays.
Base
Base is essentially a "man" blocking run play that has each lineman block the man over them, and if uncovered, they head up to the linebackers. (The "fold" technique comes into play where there is a sort of "shaded" nose -- a defensive tackle who would be too difficult to "reach" for the guard -- so they can make a "fold" call at the line.) The play is easy to teach because it uses largely the same scheme as their main pass protection (big on big; back on backer) but uses drive blocking. Finally, this play is often mistaken for a "draw" -- it just looks like one when run from the shotgun.
Lead
"Lead" is your basic "isolation" play: all the linemen block "man on" or "down" and the lead blocker bursts into the hole and blocks the first man that shows; the ball carrier then cuts off the lead back's block. Tech uses this a lot when they get into any two-back set (whether from gun or those rare times under center). From shotgun this too looks a lot like a "lead draw," but it is really just one of the oldest plays in football run from Tech's funky wide line splits and shotgun.
Stretch
The "stretch" has increasingly been a weapon for Leach over the past few years. A big reason is that Leach is now fully committed to the wide line splits, so at some point in the game the defensive ends tend to stop lining up so far outside the offensive tackles and instead line up heads up or inside them, thus giving the offensive guy an easy "reach" block to hook the defender inside. As a result the runningback has an easy spring to the outside.
Conclusion
Leach's run game is not complicated and no one will confuse Tech with Paul Johnson's flexbone option teams, but they have had decentbalance (depending how you define it) over the years and the run plays are some of the most tried and true schemes around. He just uses them from his spread sets, and only when the defense is completely stretched out.
The book "Spread Formation Football," written by Coach Meyer, begins with the line: "Spread formations are not new to football." Very true.
Wait, I should have been more specific. "Spread Formation Football" was written in 1952 by Coach Dutch Meyer of TCU. Yet that Meyer's edict applies with as much force to today's Coach Meyer as it did then, if not more so, because it highlights a simple truth. Urban Meyer, and his offensive coordinator, Dan Mullen, are not geniuses, nor are they innovators. Indeed, Florida's offense is not new; it is not novel; it is not even that unique. Urban Meyer would agree and say, that's okay. His offense may not be new; it is merely very, very good.
The Gators have a legitimate shot at another national title, and I can't think of many coaching matchups more fun than Nick Saban's defense pitted against the the Meyer/Mullen/Tebow run 'n gun.
In this post I will briefly overview the philosophy behind Meyer's offense and then some of the core run game concepts, though I can do neither full justice here. But it's worth discussing to dispel some misnomers that get floated (especially by announcers and ESPN-types). Meyer does not run the wing-t from shotgun (his offense is not based around "series football" as those offenses are), he does not run the run and shoot with more running, and the option is only one part of Meyer's offense. Strangely enough, I would say that the inspirational fathers of Florida's offense have to be Joe Gibbs and Dennis Erickson, who helped establish and pioneer the one-back offense. Indeed, as will be discussed below, Florida's main run plays are basically the same ones both guys made popular in the '80s, though from the shotgun and a bit more option sprinkled in.
Surprised to hear these roots? Meyer is not shy; he admits that he was a late-mover to the spread offense, though as the years pass he looks more and more likely to be the last man standing. In the year of the rise of the terrible spread, we still have Meyer's flying Circus, complete with his rhinoceros of a quarterback.
Meyer bounced around as an assistant coach, finally as receivers coach at Notre Dame under the schematically brilliant but instinctively cro-magnon Bob Davie. Meyer has recalled losing to Nebraska in 2001, and being struck when, after they lost, he found one of his best players, David Givens, crying at his locker because he was unable to help his team win: he hadn't touched the ball the entire game. He swore to run an offense that got his playmakers the ball. While at Notre Dame, he began meeting with his intellectual mentor (his actual mentors were guys like Lou Holtz), Scott Linehan. (Yes, that Scott Linehan.) He was hired as Head Coach of Bowling Green, and decided that -- in years that just happened to be the rather formative ones for the spread -- he would have his staff learn at the masters' feet.
So, eschewing typical coaching visit hotspots like Ohio State, Michigan, Florida, and the like, Meyer directed his staff to make a midwest pilgrammage to learn from the likes of: John L. Smith and Scott Linehan at Louisville; Joe Tiller and Jim Chaney (now St. Louis Rams) at Purdue; Randy Walker and Kevin Wilson (now at Oklahoma) at Northwestern; and, of course, with Rich Rod at West Virginia. What all these guys had in common was they were one-back or spread coaches, they had the ability to run the ball (though Meyer focused more on passing with a team like Purdue), and they had an organized, conceptual way of thinking about football. Before Meyer's first season at Bowling Green:
Mullen and three assistants joined Meyer to visit Louisville and then Northwestern, Purdue and West Virginia, looking to blend ideas from each program after Meyer became Bowling Green's head coach in 2001. When all the coaches returned to Bowling Green, Ohio, they gathered in an office at Doyt Perry Stadium for a series of meetings over two weeks, diagramming concepts on a grease board and then converting it to computer.
"Obviously it was a very small foundation at that time," Mullen said, "that has grown into a very big house now, all the people that are running our style of offense."
(Compare this complete commitment to becoming a spread offense with some other programs you may have heard of.) Nevertheless, I don't want to overvalue Meyer's clairvoyance here, and neither would he. While back in 2000 the average fan and sportswriter did not exactly anticipate that schools like Northwestern, Louisville, Purdue, and West Virginia were the cradles of the greatest offensive revolution in thirty years, many in among the football cognoscenti did. (Self-plug: Like me. No seriously.)
But this is not a story solely about schemes. Meyer has always won football games, wherever he has been. When he arrived at Bowling Green he engineered one of the great turnarounds in football history, and I have known many great schemers who failed to win football games (Hal Mumme). In any event, later, Meyer and Mullen spent time with Navy and Georgia Southern (you know, with some obscure coach named Paul Johnson) to continue learning about option football.
So what did Meyer actually learn from these programs and coaches? We can see it from what he eventually did and now does. Broadly, Meyer and his offensive coordinator, Mullen, wanted to be shotgun focused, to spread the field, to be able to throw effectively, and run the ball and run the option. That hardly narrows it down, but that's sort of the beauty. The simplicity comes in how few schemes there actually are, and how almost cliche they are in practice: the inside and outside zones and zone-read, the counter, the trap, quarterback power, and the option game (with jet sweeps sprinkled over top, though I won't address that much here). This is the same spread playbook high school teams are running; indeed, there's little that Meyer runs now that Northwestern and West Virginia weren't running back then. Most differences are simply cosmetic.
I will only summarize his passing game. Meyer learned his passing offense primarily from what Purdue and Louisville were doing in their spread heydays. (Though it is important to note that both Purdue and Louisville at the time were traditional "one-back" spread offenses -- derivative of Dennis Erickson's one-back offense -- so although he focused on their passing games their running games were consistent with the inside zone and counter game Meyer was installing with advice from Rich Rodriguez and the Northwestern folks.) Meyer developed a system based from spread formations, with focuses on quick passes, lots of quick shallows, pivots, and other quick moves. (The biggest evolution in the Meyer/Mullen offense at Florida has been the attempt to improve their play-action game, which has always been tough for shotgun-spread teams to convincingly do.)
I turn next to the Meyer/Mullen approach to offense, followed by some of the primary run game concepts.
Meyer and Mullen's Philosophy
More important than the actual concepts Meyer uses is his approach. Meyer's offense is not like the wing-t (despite what commentators say), nor is it exactly analogous to traditional option offenses, like Paul Johnson's at Georgia Tech. This is because Meyer's offense -- like most other spreads -- is not entirely based around "series football," or a set play followed by its counter followed by the counter to the counter. Instead it is a more conceptual, more pro-style approach.
As mentioned above, the real sea-change for Meyer occurred when he visited Louisville and met with Scott Linehan, who at the time was coaching under John L. Smith. It was then that Meyer began thinking about the spread as more than just a formation, but a comprehensive approach to the game.
The entire theory can be summarized briefly: If the defense plays with two safeties back -- so long as the offense forces the defense to cover its receivers by employing constraint plays -- the offense has a numbers advantage in the box to run the ball against.
If the defense plays with a single-high defense -- again so long as it employs its constraint plays (which are not limited to bubble screens, but include play action passes and draws to be used when defenders begin looking too heavily for the run or pass) --there is no advantage in the box but the offense should be able to pass, as it does have enough numbers to protect the quarterback. So a team like Florida will look to throw. Against soft coverage, the offense will look to throw underneath; against press man, the offense will play around with receiver splits to free guys against man and will employ more routes good against man to man, like corners, option routes, and whip routes (begin like a shallow cross, stop and pivot back out to the sideline at five yards).
Finally, if there is no deep safety then the offense knows the defense is in cover zero and it expects the defense to blitz. The defense is saying, either we're going to get you, or you're going to get a big play; we're betting on us. Florida has a lot of responses, but at some point you have to be willing to go deep against cover 0.
And that's really it. From there, the coaches will look to individual matchups to exploit, slight structural or leverage advantages, and especially for when guys get themselves out of position. So long as the defense stays in its base coverage, Meyer and Mullen run their base stuff and it's just about execution. As soon as guys get out of position or the defense tries to get cute, they go to their constraint plays.
The Run Game
So let's look at some specifics of their run game. I can't cover everything (trust me, it would get boring quicker than you think), and the nuances change from year to year and week to week depending on personnel and defensive adjustment. But at core, Meyer still runs the same major concepts he ran all the way back at Bowling Green, which are run plays that go back as long as teams have run the ball. The major runs are the inside zone (with the ubiquitous QB read attached to it), the counter, the trap, the quarterback power and iso(lation), and various forms of option football. No matter what the defense does, Florida is going to practice and run these plays.
I will not really address the zone-read, though it is still the base of their offense. That play has been addressed extensively, and I discussed the play years ago.
Counter
The base form of Florida's counter play is quite simple. The playside line slow plays (or even pass sets) and then fires out and blocks the man down and double teams to the linebacker; the backside tackle pulls and leads; and the running back takes a counter step and then folds over the ball, looking to follow the pulling tackle's block. The quarterback reads the backside end (there's that zone read again), and if he crashes down the quarterback will take off and run.
Meyer and Mullen keep this same basic structure but do play around with the specifics: instead of the running back, they can have the running back cross in front of the QB and have the quarterback run the ball behind the pulling tackle; they can have the running back line up to the play side and take his counter steps there and circle back; and they can use two backs (or one back and another player faking a jet sweep) to show the counter fake. They can do all this because it is one simple blocking scheme and the backfield actions and ball carriers are the easy part to change, as are what motions or formations you want to use with it.
More recently, Florida has begun running more of the traditional "counter-trey" play so popular in the pros. The difference here is that it involves two pulling players: one who traps the defensive end and the other who pulls and leads. Indeed, this is another play showing how Florida's offense is just the translation of traditional concepts to new sets. Compare Meyer's the version of the counter trey that Meyer ran against South Carolina:
With the traditional I-formation version of that play:
It is also worth noting that Meyer has used more and more "H-back" types in his offense recently, which give him more versatility in his blocking schemes, but still is a micro strategy designed to affects the front and create leverage rather than effect some large change on the style of offense. But, as nice as schemes are, they do not really do the play justice. The Gators ran the counter-trey twice against South Carolina: both times for long (long!) Harvin touchdowns.
Trap
The trap is one of the oldest plays in football. Against penetrating defensive tackles, the line initially does not block those guys, then the backside guard pulls and destroys the tackle. Florida runs this play both as a trap to the running back and with the quarterback alone.
Quarterback Power
Obviously, it is in Florida's interest to use their quarterback in the run game. The power play is a team that every I formation team and every NFL team has in their playbook. The fullback kicks out the defensive end, the line blocks down and double teams the defensive line up to the linebackers (coaches often use the term OIL -- "on, inside, linebacker" -- to teach the blocking on this play), and the backside guard or tackle pulls and lead blocks into the hole. From the I, the quarterback hands it off to the tailback. In Florida's offense, the quarterback is the tailback. And this has obvious advantages: as indicated from the discussion above, the offense has a distinct numerical advantage when the quarterback is a threat that necessitates a defender's attention on run plays rather than just a statue who hands it off and gets out of the way, as NFL quarterbacks do. In any event, the play is diagrammed below.
Option ball
During coaching clinics, Meyer often mentions that he likes to ask defensive coaches what they hate to defend, and he says their answer is always option football. (I'd wager that most of Georgia Tech's opponents this season would tell you the same thing.) I am not going to spend much time on the zone-read-triple option, which to me is a nice but ultimately unsatisfactory play. It's a nice wrinkle on the base zone-read, but unlike the traditional triple option, it is not designed in such a way that the offense is correct every time. (That is because the initial read is of the backside defensive end; but even if he stays put, the success of the playside inside zone play still depends on however the blocks turn out, as opposed to the true triple, where you know it will be a success because you have double teamed everyone and the only threat is the man you're optioning off of.)
But Florida has increasingly used a form of the true triple -- the "veer" -- in its gun-run game. Had I written this article earlier this season, this would have been my focus, but as it stands this is still but one tool in Meyer and Mullen's arsenal.
In the traditional veer, the line ignores several of the playside defenders, instead crashing down and crushing the defensive tackle and linebackers. The offense can do this because it "options" off a series of defenders: when done correctly, the offense is always right and the defense always wrong. So the offense gets a good deal: it gets double teams it would not have otherwise gotten by "blocking" defenders through optioning off of them. While option football is not easy, you have a better chance of success optioning off a great defensive end to make him wrong rather than sending overmatched tight ends and fullbacks to try to block them. So this is the advantage. The traditional veer looks like this (hat tip: Hugh Wyatt):
Florida's looks largely similar (though Florida gets into this set through a variety of motions, shifts, and the "pitch man" is often a wide receiver).
More clips below, including some pass game clips. (As a hint, the trick to watching these, particularly the first, is to watch the line/defensive line and linebackers and not to just follow the ball; you can always tell where the ball is going):
A Word on Defending the Spread
This is a topic for another time, but it's worth a word on how you defend the spread offense. It's not difficult -- in theory. And clearly, teams have gotten better at it. But defending a team like Florida, with all their talent, is quite the chore. Defending a spread team where the quarterback is not a threat to run, whether by design or talent (ahem, Michigan) is the simpler task. But if the quarterback can run, the offense gains the advantage of an extra blocker when it can spread receivers and the quarterback can run.
Against the old option attacks, the quarterback's counterpart had to line up on the line of scrimmage and hit the quarterback on the line, and the defense basically had to play without a safety (are you listening, Georgia?). Against the I formation attacks so popular in the '90s (and earlier), the quarterback's counterpart -- the free safety -- could stand back in the middle of the field and keep the quarterback from throwing against single coverage. Indeed, the rage in the '90s was the rise of the "eight-man front" defense, and this was the defense the spread developed to counter.
But against the spread where the quarterback is a legitimate dual threat, like Florida has with their Heisman winner, the defense must do both of the above. The quarterback's counterpart has to be on the line of scrimmage to hit the quarterback on runs (as with the option attacks), and back in the middle against passes (as against traditional formations). This is not a debatable point; as Homer Smith said, "this is arithmetic, not theory."
The answer is that you have to have safety-type players who can play the quarterback but also can, if it is a pass play, race back and play as either a robber or as a safety. The defense simply must be able to play man, and it must have the ability to blitz and attack both the quarterback and any other backfield player. (Though this is not easy; faking is better than ever, partially because it involved reading and not faking.) Finally, you must have the ability to zone-blitz to put pressure on the quarterback but still take away the short slants and quicks (or at least threaten to be able to do so).
In other words, you have to play defense like Nick Saban does. But there is no foolproof system; speed is king; and players win games. And there is no doubt that a spread like Florida's is a beautiful thing to watch because it forces the defense to play perfect and to succeed it must be able to multi-task like defenses have never been asked to do before.
Conclusion
To understand why Florida's offense is successful -- for reasons other than because it merely unleashes a bunch of great players, though that cannot be understated and Meyer never fails to credit his players -- I think it is helpful to compare Meyer's "spread option" with another "spread option": Paul Johnson's flexbone. The mechanics of Johnson's flexbone has been described in great detail elsewhere, but the comparison is useful.
Some have derided the labeling of Johnson's offense a "spread option" at all. The charge is that it doesn't look like other "spread" teams. But all this view does is highlight the meaninglessness of the term "spread." The bone itself began as an option offense, and became the "spread option" -- i.e. the flexbone -- when coaches began flexing the tight-ends out to become split ends. The purpose was to provide more of a horizontal stretch to create the lanes and the leverage for the offense.
And that is exactly what Meyer does. His offense is "spread option" in the sense that it was spread before it was ever option (and you may go an entire game without seeing any actual option; the zone-read excluded). But Meyer and Mullen are trying to simplify what defenses can do, to make them show their hand. And wants to find the creases, in whatever form and wherever they are.
Woody Hayes built his defenses around his understanding of the converse of this principle.. An autodidact of military history and strategy, Hayes understood that the best and simplest way to stop an offensive assault was to corral it into a controllable space, as small as possible, to limit its available strategies. Having done that, you could then predict your opponent's points and methods of attack and close them off. Johnson's triple-option, in Mark Richt's rueful words, "stretches you from sideline to sideline." Meyer's offense does the same.
But let's go one step further. Why does that work, particularly with regard to the run game? You hear about the benefits of spreading all the time from sportscasters but with little explanation of why (other than vague generalizations or incorrect statements about "one on one matchups.") To answer that question, let's look at another similarity between Meyer's and Johnson's offenses, which is one reason why in a spread offense the run game is often more important than the pass game.
While, from a passing perspective, the "spread" merely gets you one-on-one matchups that your receivers may or may not win, spreading your formation to run gives you something far more valuable: leverage. Meyer's schemes are not tricky, nor and they are original. But they are sound. When you block a front, you do not send your linemen -- however big, and however talented -- to just fly out to hit a guy to try and hopelessly make him go where he does not want to. Instead, you put your kids in position to win. You use double teams. You "trap" defenders who rush hard upfield. You use lead-blockers in a way to give your runner a two-way go that he can win every time. And you option off defenders to make them wrong, every time. Football is still a game about power, strength, and quickness, but it's always better to be smart about how to focus that power, strength, and quickness where it is most likely to be successful.
If the old running offenses of yesteryear, in reflecting earlier times, were like punishing boxers who engaged in matches where the biggest and strongest won, then offenses like Johnson's and Meyer's, in reflecting their times, are like martial arts: without sacrificing either strength or power, they punish you but also use speed, quickness, and cleverness to hit you where you do not expect and probe to find your weak spots, and to exploit them, without mercy.
(As a disclaimer: I am not responsible for any of the musical suggestions accompanying the video clips. I just find clips that seem to do the trick. My site works best without sound, much like a library full of leatherbound books and rich mahogany.)
The pro-football reference blog recently mentioned something I found fascinating:
