Gridiron Genius

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Gridiron Genius Page 19

by Michael Lombardi


  The movie stayed in the back of my mind for the whole weekend, even as I watched the Ravens pull away from the Steelers in the wild card game. By the end of the third quarter, I announced to Millie and our sons that we were going to be game planning for Baltimore. I knew what kind of a challenge we faced over the next week, and I must have been eager to get started, because that night my internal alarm clock went off at the ungodly hour of 3:45 A.M.

  There was no time to waste. Kickoff was less than a week away.

  Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at everything that happened next as we prepared to play the Ravens.

  SUNDAY: SIX DAYS BEFORE KICKOFF

  Most of the players don’t report until tomorrow, but the staff spends all of today preparing game plans and scouting reports. It’s a short week, as our game is on Saturday, but that doesn’t change our to-do list. The Ravens-Steelers wild card game is already loaded into the video system, and the staff gets to work, preparing for Belichick to call a meeting to map out the rest of the week. Right now, though, he’s busy familiarizing himself with every detail of the Ravens’ different units, planning out our preparation, and forming a vision of the game in his head. When the staff comes together later in the afternoon, he will offer a few of his initial thoughts and then see how they jibe with the approach his coordinators have mapped out.

  But first Belichick will conduct a meeting that has become the signature of his game-planning regimen: a private skull session with Brady. The backup QBs are also in the room, but it’s really just two of the all-time greats riffing and brainstorming about the challenges and opportunities in the upcoming game. Belichick begins by sharing his own handcrafted report on the Ravens’ defensive back seven. In exquisite detail he goes over the players, showing tape to accentuate his points as he discusses how to attack each of them and the unit as a whole. This is not a game plan meeting; it’s a scouting meeting—maybe the most exclusive in sports. Not even Josh McDaniels, the coordinator, is invited. Most coordinators are protective of their players and want to control who talks to them or whispers in their ear, but in New England that’s not an issue. Everyone knows Belichick’s vision and preparation have quite a track record and that whatever he has to say will only benefit the players, the team, and the coordinator, for that matter. When the players leave the session, they probably know more about the Baltimore secondary than most of the people on the Ravens’ staff. This private session includes Belichick’s unique approach to game planning: He starts at the end. Six days before facing Baltimore, he and his field general have already synchronized their brains and their focus. And this week that means moving right past first down—where most game plans begin—and to an increased emphasis on third downs.

  After his one-on-one with Brady, Belichick studies tape while running on the treadmill. At five o’clock Belichick, still a little damp from his workout, is already seated at the head of the table as his coaches wander in for the full staff meeting. As soon as everyone fills his usual seat, he begins.

  The first topic is inactives for the game. Belichick says that five players will not dress for sure and that the status of a few others will need to be determined during the week. It’s mundane but relevant because, with limited time to prepare, coaches don’t want to waste practice reps on guys who won’t see the field. Peeking at his typed notes, Belichick appears to be in a relatively good mood as he goes over what he wants to spend time on. Dressed in his signature look—frumpy workout gear—and sipping a protein shake, the first thing he tells McDaniels is not to take starting tight end Rob Gronkowski off the field. Never. Not once. “Make them defend him on every play,” he says.

  The plan for Gronk is clear. The question Belichick has is which tight end he wants lining up alongside him. Based on the talk around the table, the coaches prefer reliable Michael Hoomanawanui—Hoo-Man to his buddies. He isn’t the fastest or most athletic guy in the league, but he understands the system, which gives the coaches comfort, and his hands are outstanding. Most important, Brady trusts him. That’s no small thing. If Tom doesn’t trust you, he won’t throw to you. For any veteran quarterback, trust is everything. For Brady, it is the only thing, and you don’t earn it easily. Just being on the team won’t cut it. Heck, just making the Pro Bowl won’t cut it, either. You must prove that you have made the offense a part of you, made it second nature, knowing where to be at all times. Brian Tyms was a receiver who made our team one year after an excellent preseason. He was raw—a track star in college—but he was hardworking and athletic. It wasn’t enough. He never quite got it, not to Brady’s satisfaction anyway, so he never saw the field, let alone the ball. This week our other choice at backup tight end is Tim Wright, a converted wide receiver who isn’t much of a blocker. We have plenty of talented receivers. What we need is help with the Ravens’ ferocious pass rush. Belichick, in full command, listens intently to the talk in the room, then makes the call. Even on major decisions he’s quick and decisive and leaves no room for lingering debate or doubt. When there’s an issue with the game plan, the staff talks it over, Belichick listens, then he rules, and that’s that. Against the Ravens’ edge rushers, an extra blocker makes the most sense. Hoo-Man, it is.

  Finished with the tight ends, Belichick changes subjects abruptly. Turning to Scott O’Brien, he says he wants special teams to go right at Baltimore’s long snapper, Patrick Scales. That’s right, in the first meeting of the biggest week of the year, the long snapper is a topic of conversation. Don’t get me wrong. For me, a former college long snapper, I think it is a perfectly reasonable subject. And it’s pretty standard fare for a special teams savant such as Belichick. But everyone else thinks it’s a little random until Belichick starts talking about how pressuring the poor guy just might pay dividends. Belichick, a failed college lineman turned long snapper, is speaking from experience, but believe it or not, he actually knows something about Scales because he and O’Brien keep an updated database of every long snapper in the league just in case we need a new one. In fact, Belichick’s pro scouting department often brings in snappers for evaluation because, not surprisingly, the Patriots treat the long snapper with the same level of importance as a punter or kicker. Belichick and O’Brien must have uncovered something about Scales that tells them he can be rattled; not surprisingly, Belichick isn’t sharing that something with anyone.

  Defensively, Belichick is concerned about the Ravens’ cut blocks, primarily how his hulking defensive tackle Vince Wilfork will handle the borderline dirty technique. He wonders out loud how we can simulate this in practice, duplicating the Ravens’ offensive tempo and tactics without injuring any of our players. For starters, we’ll need to spend extra time with our practice players to make sure they imitate the Ravens’ technique precisely—“cutting” a defender off near the knees, knocking him to the ground and thus out of the play—and that means a special meeting after the full team meeting. Nothing is left to chance; we need these practice players to give us an accurate but safe look. Belichick talks to the defensive coaches and Dave DeGuglielmo, our offensive line coach, to make sure everyone is on the same page. This is a mainstay of the Belichick process: Practice execution becomes game-day reality. Unless we can make our practice cut blocks convincing, we won’t be prepared to defend the Ravens’ go-to running play.

  Once he checks off all the items on his list, we plan a week’s worth of practice, as Belichick’s son Steve, an assistant, transcribes it all on a grease board. As everyone expected, especially those who read my memo, third and short and third down in the red zone garner their own five-minute periods. Now, five minutes might not sound like much time to spend on something deemed so important. Let me assure you that in the football world, it’s a lifetime. Team preparation is a never-ending math problem, with practice time limited by restrictions imposed by the players’ union and the needs of a recovering human body. With so little time and so much to do, a coach has to find the right balance. The
re are 5,500 waking minutes, give or take a few, between now and kickoff, and Belichick doesn’t plan on wasting a single one. A team can run maybe eight plays in five minutes. If we’re on our game, that should be plenty.

  MONDAY: FIVE DAYS BEFORE KICKOFF

  The decor of the Patriots’ inner sanctum is constantly evolving and expanding. New framed action photos are added to the walls after each victory. The hallway leading to the team meeting room is decorated with portraits of the Patriot of the Week, an honor handpicked by Belichick and awarded after wins to the player who demonstrates selfless team-first behavior. These tributes hang throughout the season and are in this hallway for a reason: They are the last thing players pass as they head to the team meeting room each day.

  Belichick welcomes the players back with the same spiel he laid out for the coaches the previous night: Baltimore is a confident team that has won in Foxborough before. They will not be intimidated. Forget the win-loss record, forget September and October games, what matters is how they are playing now—and they are playing well.

  What is most interesting is what he doesn’t mention: any of the previous games the two teams have played against each other. He stays in the moment, focusing on the task that lies ahead. Who cares what happened in the past? What’s important, and you can hear it in Belichick’s voice, is that he has great respect for this opponent. When he praises the Ravens’ skill and toughness, he means it. In the regular season, Belichick has a habit of building up an opponent early in the week before systematically pointing out its myriad inadequacies as the days march on and kickoff approaches. The Ravens don’t need any puffing up; their success speaks for itself.

  The longest workday of the week (because it’s when the game plan is installed and first run through) begins with the longest team meeting of the week (because of all there is to download). Like most team meetings, this one is not even five minutes old when Belichick brings up the importance of the kicking game. Again, special teams mean something different to Belichick. To him they set the physical and emotional tone of the team and the pace of our preparation. When Belichick mentions special teams so early in the meeting, what he’s saying is, “We will focus on every detail, no matter how small or insignificant, because all of it matters and any of it can lead to victory.”

  The Ravens lead the NFL in hidden yards: yards that don’t make the stat sheet but have an impact on the game. The Patriots are so thorough that we even focus on things you can’t see. Stuff like a gunner on the punt team fighting through three blocks to down the ball at the 1 instead of letting it bounce into the end zone for a touchback. It won’t show up on the stat sheet, but that guy just saved the Ravens 19 yards in a game that will be determined by inches. Hidden yards.

  Similarly, the Ravens are the best net punting team in the AFC, which means that more often than not they control field position. They also lead the league in kickoff returns. Belichick warns that the Ravens are aggressive on the road and love trick plays in the kicking game, and then he tells the team what he told O’Brien the day before: We have to attack the long snapper. Next, Belichick puts on his weatherman’s suit and directs the team to expect extreme cold, the slick heavy ball that comes with it, and the extra care in handling the football that will be required.

  Turning to the section of the room where the defense is congregated, Belichick says the Ravens are under center almost 75 percent of the time and use a fullback more than any team in the NFL. Stopping the run will be key. He warns that they also like to call gadget plays and went for it on fourth down 18 times during the season. Belichick has great respect for Gary Kubiak, the Ravens offensive coordinator, and mentions the naked bootlegs that are a signature of his offense. Most important, when the Ravens need to make a play—in Belichickian terms, a “gotta have it” play—he expects them to try to get the ball to tight end Owen Daniels or wide receiver Steve Smith. Belichick is so certain about Daniels’s key role in the Ravens attack that he will speak his name more than that of anyone on his own roster this week.

  Belichick then addresses his quarterbacks, who are sitting in the middle of the front row like star students. His first point to them will become his primary message of the week: We must stand up to their defensive front. We need to win this game in the trenches. Our offensive line cannot be pushed around. Surprisingly, we are not overly concerned about Baltimore’s outside pass rushers, Terrell Suggs and Elvis Dumervil, each of whom can get around the corner in a flash. Brady generally deals well with that type of rusher, getting rid of the ball quickly or stepping up into the pocket as the defenders race past. More problematic is the Ravens’ inside rush, spearheaded by Tim Jernigan, Haloti Ngata, and Brandon Williams. If they can push our guards back, it will prevent Brady from stepping up. If he is trapped in the pocket, the Ravens can then tee off on him, and Brady, like any quarterback, is far less effective when he’s taking a beating and fearing for his life. Suggs always plays his best against us. He’s quick to let everyone know how much he hates us and never calls Brady by his name, instead referring to him as that “good-looking fellow from up north.” Brady won’t stay that way for long, though, if we don’t play well up front.

  Before each unit is sent off to be with its coaches and coordinators, Belichick closes the meeting by reading a few things the Ravens said after the Steelers game, including how much they’re looking forward to coming to Foxborough. The Steelers are the Ravens’ main rival, but the Patriots are definitely a close second. Suggs: “We all know the matchup the NFL wants to see, New England–Seattle. We’ll see if we can disrupt some people’s plans.”

  Part of Belichick’s game prep this week is to avoid overcomplicating things for the players. It’s his job to decipher the avalanche of information that will flow through our staff over the next five days. As for the team, he wants them to focus on things such as special teams, converting third downs, covering Owen Daniels, protecting Brady, and practicing hard. So even his motivational approach—bulletin board quotes from the opponent—is the same thing you might see or hear in a high school locker room. It’s familiar and effective, so why change it? We’re not trying to reinvent the wheel this week; we’re just trying to beat Baltimore.

  Belichick ends the meeting by saying that word out of Baltimore is that we don’t want to face the Ravens.

  Obviously, we need to prove them wrong.

  That means having our best week of practice, starting in a few hours.

  MONDAY PRACTICE: FOUR AND A HALF DAYS BEFORE KICKOFF

  The practice conditions are much like the game will be: cold and getting colder. The field is frozen; the footing is not sound. But this team is used to navigating lousy weather. As the team strolls out into the elements, wide receiver Brandon LaFell is the only player not able to practice; he’s been nursing a bad toe but should be ready for game day. This might be the most relevant fact of the week: In a violent game that is often dictated by injuries, we are completely healthy.

  The team works hard. With pads on, the drills are physical, but they also serve as a moment of continuing education. My memo predicted that tackling will be a key this week, and we practice it accordingly. In football, proper pad level—knees bent, ready to strike, whether blocking or getting off a block—is everything. Broken down to its simplest terms, football is a game of leverage, and when pad level is too high, players lose that leverage. When pad level is at the correct height, though, the leverage it allows gives a player control at the point of contact. It might seem as if good pad level would be the price of entry in the NFL. Not so. Pad level is a fundamental that requires constant reemphasis and recalibration of muscle memory. The problem is that league rules governing practice permit one day of contact in pads a week, so most teams end up not reinforcing it as often as they should. Golfers work every club in their bag every day; football teams should work every part of their game each day as well. The winning ones do. We will emphasize pad level t
oday and will continue to do so every day.

  Brady is throwing well, and our receivers are catching the frozen balls without any trouble. During seven-on-seven passing drills, Belichick tasks the equipment men with waving tennis rackets to simulate the hands of defensive linemen trying to bat down balls. Brady hates this drill. It annoys him no end. But it’s a necessary evil: Led by Baltimore defensive tackle Haloti Ngata, the Ravens have knocked down 17 passes this season.

  The most crucial drill of the day—cut-block avoidance—also seems to be going well. Chandler Jones, our starting defensive end, who missed a significant portion of the season with a hip problem, is moving effortlessly around the low blocks. If the Ravens decide to start clearly declining Eugene Monroe at left tackle, the matchup will favor us. Another of our key players seems healed, too: starting corner Brandon Browner. He’s a tone setter. He gets called for too many penalties and lacks speed, but more important for this time of year, his toughness is infectious. Our offensive line looks outstanding, too, especially tackles Sebastian Vollmer and Nate Solder. Just as we’d hoped, our scout team defense cannot penetrate our interior line, and Brady is able to step up in the pocket and cleanly deliver the ball downfield.

  With a good first day under our belt, I join Belichick to watch the last part of practice, the one called the “Opportunity Period,” in which development of our youngest and taxi squad players continues, even this late in the season. Only one of the guys working out in front of us will suit up on Saturday, but Belichick won’t let them off easy regardless. He may be preparing for next Saturday, but that doesn’t mean he can’t also prepare for next season. And the one guy who may get called on is in many ways the most critical player outside of Tom Brady: backup quarterback Jimmy Garoppolo. Most teams don’t even consider this contingency. In fact, as the season progresses, most teams increasingly give all meaningful practice reps to their starters. (That’s what the Colts always did with Peyton Manning. When a TV announcer asked their offensive coordinator about it, he said if Manning ever went down, they were “fucked” and “we don’t practice fucked.”) An injury to a starting quarterback in the playoffs is a disaster in its own right, but it is compounded if the importance of the game means the backup has not gotten the practice reps he might normally get and surely needs. The Opportunity Period ensures that Garoppolo will be ready: maybe not Tom Brady–ready but more than ready enough.

 

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