Smart Notes and Links 8/13/2009

1. Advanced NFL Stats weighs in on the evaluating running backs/running games discussion, which I addressed (with assistance from some wonderful comments) here and here. Do read the whole thing, but Brian has, as always, a very interesting take. Drawing on earlier discussion about risky and conservative strategies for underdogs and favorites (see my discussion of the topic here and Brian's here), he asserts:

I want to address an age-old water cooler question that Chris discussed in his post at Smart Football. Consider two RBs, both with identical YPC averages. One however, is a boom and bust guy, like Barry Sanders, and the other is a steady plodder like Jerome Bettis. Which kind of RB would you rather have on your team?

The answer is it depends. Essentially, we have a choice between a high-variance RB and a low-variance RB. When a team is an underdog team, it wants high-variance intermediate outcomes to maximize its chances of winning. And when a team is a favorite, it wants low-variance outcomes. Whether those outcomes occur through play selection, through 4th down doctrine, or through RB style, isn't important. If you're an otherwise below-average team, you'd want the boom and bust style RB. If you're an otherwise above-average team, you'd want the steady plodder. . . .

Further, even if the high-variance RB has a lower average YPC, we'd still want him carrying the ball when we're losing. This is due to the math involved in competing probability distributions.

That's just one aspect of it. He uses a handy chart for the distribution of runs for the various backs...



...and notes how curious it is that Tomlinson's distribution looks so much like that of the rest of the NFL. (This same thing ends up holding true for most backs.) What conclusions does Burke draw? With the usual caveats,

[w]hat amazes me is how similar they all are to each other and to the league average. . . . Usually, a RB needs 4 to 5 yards to just break even in terms of his team's probability of converting a first down. What we'd want to see on a RB's distribution is as much probability mass as possible to the right of 4 yards.

So if [Jerome] Bettis' distribution looks so much like Tomlinson's, how does Bettis have a 3.9 career YPC and Tomlinson have a 4.4 career YPC? As others have noted previously, the difference among RB YPC numbers primarily come from big runs. It's the open field breakaway ability that separates the guys with big YPC stats from the other RBs. Of Tomlinson's runs, 1.5% were for 30 yards or more. Bettis' 30+ yd gains comprised only 0.46% of his carries. The other RBs and the league average are as follows:

- NFL 0.91%
- [Jamal] Lewis 0.88%
- [Brian] Westbrook 0.93%
- [Adrian] Peterson 2.20%

Adrian Peterson's 2.2% figure is exceptional. It's interesting because it really suggests that what separates Peterson as a great runner is based on only 2% or so of his runs. Otherwise, he's practically average.

2. Courtesy of Brophy, I have added video of Mike Leach's "settle & noose" drill, which, it will be recalled, is both a great warm-up drill and works on teaching receivers to find holes in the zone and quarterbacks how to deliver the ball to them.



3. Tom Brady muses on life with Bill Belichick. As he tells Details:

"You'll practice on a Wednesday, and you'll come in Thursday morning and he'll have the film up there from practice," Brady says. "Sometimes, during practice, you throw a bad ball—that's the way it goes. But the video comes up and he says, 'Brady, you can't complete a g--damn hitch.' And I'll be sitting there thinking, I'm a [expletive] nine-year veteran, I've won three ---damn Super Bowls — he can kiss my... That's what you're thinking on the inside. But on the outside I'm thinking, You know what? I'm glad he's saying that. I'm glad that's what he's expecting, you know? Because that's what I should be expecting. That's what his style is."

(Ht Shutdown Corner).

4. Bruce Feldman chats with Norm Chow, who materializes into matter from various spectral rays to participate.

5. The NY Times's The Quad Blog chats with Dan Shanoff about, what else, his Tim Teblow blog.

6. Spencer Hall/Orson Swindle to SB Nation. When you get $7 million from Comcast, you better find ways to spend it, and I can't think of a better way than for SBNation (whose official name is "Sportsblogs, Inc.") to lure Every Day Should Be Saturday's Spencer Hall over, including away from the Sporting News. I like everyone else think this is a wise move for both sides, but one underrated aspect is that Mr. Hall/Swindle (Mr. Hall-Swindle? I kind of like that) will be able to focus on just one blog (and probably a book too), which should really let him flourish.

7. Holly over at Dr Saturday remembers Northwestern's magical 1995 season, which is still the only 10 win season in school history. This was a sort of epoch-changing season for NW -- though that is a very relative statement -- in that the Wildcats' history since has been considerably better. Indeed, two years later I saw them play in the Citrus Bowl against Tennessee (this was back in the "You can't spell Citrus without UT" days). Though, most of that game was spent marveling at the show Peyton Manning put on (408 yards, 4 touchdowns, no interceptions) as I sat there telling everyone around me what Peyton Manning's audibles would be (for some reason Northwestern thought it could play man coverage against Tennessee's receivers, so he kept checking to fades and slants). In any event, it is hard to overstate how strange but wonderful that 1995 season was for Northwestern. In football, sometimes the gods are with you.

How Mike Leach keeps producing prolific passers

Dr Saturday recently observed that

[o]f the five starters Leach has trotted out in nine years, every one has topped 4,000 yards and 30 touchdowns in a season; even in terms of efficiency as opposed to straight cumulative totals, they've been remarkably consistent from year to year.

He also notes that it's unlikely that Texas Tech will quite reach the heights they did last year, and that "[u]nless the stars align for the new kids in some unforeseen, improbably way, even 4,200 yards and 35 touchdowns could feel like the first hints of stagnation in the success story." Quite likely. But how has Leach continued to produce such wildly successful (in terms of stats, at least) quarterback?

One answer is "the system," but let's get more specific. The Captain has frequently noted that his system is all stuff that's been done before. Indeed, what is remarkable is that guys can seem to leap off the bench and do nothing but throw completions. He had one of the great three-year runs, where, defying the common spread/passing offense wisdom of playing your younger guy so they can get some experience, he rode three fifth-year senior quarterbacks to great heights (and, again, stats).

My explanation, and I think Leach would agree with me, is how the Red Raiders practice. One, they obviously do not run the ball much so all the focus is on throwing and catching, every day. Leach also does not believe in traditional stretching; rather he begins practices with medium speed drills that work on techniques like settling in the windows between zones and dropping back and throwing. Everything is focused on throwing the ball. Bob Davie visited Texas Tech a few years ago, and was blown away by what he saw:

Last year, Tech averaged 60 passes a game so it is obviously not a balanced attack, but this actually works in their favor. In practice, they spend virtually all their time focusing on fundamentals related to the passing game. From the time they hit the practice field until they leave, the ball is in the air and the emphasis in on throwing, catching and protecting the quarterback.

It takes great confidence in your scheme to be able to take this approach, but the players appreciate it because they can focus on execution.

Practice -- What's Different

When you watch Texas Tech practice, it doesn't seem as structured as most college practices. They do not stretch as a team and unlike most practices, there is not a horn blowing every five minutes to change drills. The bottom line is that the cosmetic appearance of practice is not as important to Leach as it is to some coaches.

Although not as structured, it is impressive to watch Texas Tech practice and you quickly see why it is so successful. The ball is always in the air and what the Red Raiders practice is what you see them do in a game. They work on every phase of their package every day and in most passing drills, there are four quarterbacks throwing and every eligible receiver catching on each snap.

There is great detail given to fundamentals in all phases of the passing game. Wide receivers, for example, work every day on releases versus different coverages, ball security, scrambling drills, blocking and routes versus specific coverages.

Davie is referencing some of the specific "Airraid" passing drills -- the real secret to the scheme's success. The main drills are:

• Settle-noose: This is basically a warm-up drill. The receivers begin out quarter speed and shuffle between two cones, "settling" nearer to one than the other, as if they were two zone defenders. The quarterback takes a drop -- again, reduced speed -- and throws the ball, aiming for the receiver but away from the nearer "defender." The receiver uses good catching form and bursts upfield after making the catch. You can see how this simple drill sets up the entire theory of their offense, which relies on finding seams in the zones and quarterbacks throwing between defenders. Check out the video below, courtesy of Brophy:
  
  
  
  
• Pat-n-go: This is another simple drill. Most teams use a form of "route lines," or quarterbacks dropping and receivers running routes on "air" -- i.e. with no defenders. The one clever insight here is that one group of QBs and receivers lines up on opposite from another. This way they can complete a pass, have the receiver burst as if scoring, and simply get in line on the opposite side of the field, rather than have to run back through. Just another way they get more repetitions.
  
  
• Routes on air: Probably their best drill. The coaches line up garbage cans or bags or whathaveyou where defenders would drop for a zone. Then all five receivers and/or runningbacks line up, and they call a play. Five quarterbacks (or four and a manager, etc) each drop back and throw the ball to a receiver. Here's the deal: if you're the QB who should throw it to the first read, you drop back and throw it to him. If you are assigned to the third read, well you drop back, look at #1, then #2, then #3 and throw it to him. Same goes for #2, #4, and even #5. Moreover, every receiver who runs the route catches a ball and practices scoring. Then the quarterbacks rotate over -- i.e. if you threw it to #2 now you throw it to #3, etc -- and a new group of receivers steps in. This way quarterbacks absolutely learn all their reads and practice it every day (how many reps like this does the third or fourth string guy at another school get?), and they also practice throwing it to all their receivers. Each time they do this
  
  
• 7-on-7 and man-to-man: These are what they sound like, and most do these drills. One-on-one or man-to-man involves the receivers going against press man in practice, while 7-on-7 is like a real scrimmage, minus the linemen.

Good drills, no? As the Airraid practice plan shows, they do these drills almost every day. As Davie summed up:

Tech gets an amazing amount of repetitions in practice and most importantly, it doesn't waste reps practicing things they don't do in a game.

Indeed, if you're third-string quarterback at Texas Tech, I can't imagine a program whose third-stringer gets more reps than you. Same goes for second-string, third-string, etc. Now, games are certainly different -- Tech's defense has never been confused with Texas's or Oklahoma's -- but these drills, coupled with their total commitment to throwing the ball, is a big factor in Leach's ability to churn out successful quarterbacks.

The ballad of Hal Mumme

I have a soft spot for Hal Mumme. He was the most interesting thing to happen to Kentucky football since Bear Bryant (and maybe the entire SEC, sans Spurrier); he invented the vaunted Airraid offense which it seems like half of all high school teams now run; and he is always willing to share information about his offense, even back before Tony Franklin had his "system" or Mike Leach became the dread pirate of Lubbock, Texas. And, Mumme's sweaty, exasperated sideline performances will likely never be equaled.

Well he's back: Mumme, who was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer, has taken the job as head coach of small McMurry college in Abilene, Texas. New Mexico State fired Mumme after his team went 3-9 in 2008.

Commentators like to talk about the "NFL coaching trees" of guys like Bill Walsh and Bill Belichick. Yet among active coaches -- excluding guys like Hayden Fry and Bear Bryant -- I can't think of a better college coaching tree than Hal Mumme's. Not all have been successful, but it's pretty remarkable considering Mumme's (relatively) diminutive stature in the pantheon of college coaches. Among the major coaches who have coached under Mumme -- and all of these guys were under him, running Hal's offense doing Hal's drills and using Hal's techniques -- are Mike Leach (Texas Tech), Chris Hatcher (Georgia Southern and won a D-II National Championship at Valdosta St), Sonny Dykes (offensive coordinator for U. of Arizona), Guy Morriss (Baylor and Kentucky head coaches, now head coach of Texas A&M-Commerce), Dennis Roland (head coach Southeastern Louisiana), Tim Keane (Memphis secondary coach), and Darrell Patterson (linebackers coach at Stanford).

Obviously the guy that sticks out in this list is Leach. For roughly a decade after a brash high school coach named Hal Mumme became the head coach of Iowa Wesleyan college in 1989 and hired Leach, a guy whose previous coaching job had been in Finland, the now-head Red Raider played second-fiddle to Hal. As the storyline goes now -- usually in the context of discussing Leach -- the two are credited with dreaming up the potent Airraid offense (named that as part of a marketing campaign by a staffer at the University of Kentucky). Yet, until he broke out on his own, Leach was not well-known, nor was he so credited by the media. Indeed, as the storyline went then, it was Mumme who called the plays, and it was "Mummeball" that his teams had varying degrees of success with at Iowa Wesleyan, Valdosta, and Kentucky.

And then they split. Leach took the job as offensive coordinator job at Oklahoma under Bob Stoops. (And how different might history have been: a season earlier Leach had considered becoming head coach of a very small D-II college himself.) It's almost bizarre how different life has been for the two men.

Leach's story has been well-documented. He's not quite Bear Bryant (or Urban Meyer or Bob Stoops for that matter), but his trajectory has almost entirely been upward: a quick turnaround of Oklahoma and particularly Oklahoma's offense, and OU wins a title the next year running "his" offense (which isn't entirely fair either way, as Stoops really wanted to hire "Mumme's offense" and the next season, without Leach, Mark Mangino had some input as well); and Texas Tech's unprecedented streak of bowl games, high rankings, and upset victories over Oklahoma, Texas, and Texas A&M in the past several seasons.

Then there's Mumme. He lasted only two more years at Kentucky. In the first, UK surprisingly went 6-5 without Tim Couch and went to a then record two-straight bowl games. But in the second, it must simply be known as the beginning of the end. After the 1999 season, Chris Hatcher left to take over at Valdosta State, and Tony Franklin was promoted to offensive coordinator, though at Kentucky everyone knew that Mumme really held the title.

Then things got weird. Mumme benched productive but uninspiring returning starter Dusty Bonner in favor of the infamous hefty-lefty, Jared Lorenzen, then but a wee true freshman. (Around this time I heard Terry Bowden good-naturedly tell a room of coaches, as a jump-off from some anecdote I don't remember: "And then there's Hal Mumme, who doesn't hesitate to bench to bench the SEC leader in passing and pass efficiency!") In Lorenzen, Mumme got what he apparently wanted -- arm strength -- but he also got a bevy of interceptions and erratic play, waffling between a 500 yard game against Georgia to disastrous interceptions against South Carolina, and the team wound up a pitiful 2-9.

Yet that doesn't even tell the whole story of how bad 2000 was. It was so bad, by midseason Mumme no longer spoke to his offensive coordinator Tony Franklin (though history now tells us that Franklin is himself a prickly guy). And then came the NCAA: apparently an enormous behemoth known as Claude Bassett, Kentucky's recruiting coordinator, had flatly been paying players. (I once rode in Bassett's golf cart: I rode by grasping onto the roof and rail because there was little room in the passenger's seat for . . . obvious reasons, and the entire time I was convinced the cart was going to tip over.) Mumme was never formally implicated, but if nothing else he had little control over Bassett's clandestine activities. And, between the 2-9 finish and the infractions, Mumme's time at Kentucky was done.

All was quiet until Mumme took over at Southeastern Louisiana in D-1AA, and resuscitated a dead football program (literally, the program had been terminated) before leaping to New Mexico State, where things never congealed. In his first year he went 0-12, and never won more than four games. He takes the job at McMurry, in Abilene, Texas, presumably because there were few other options.

Who can explain how Mike Leach, his friend and former assistant, can go on to such heights while Mumme seems to face nothing but personal and professional tragedy? Chris Hatcher too, who had both played for Mumme and coached with him, has an exceptionally bright future. And who knows if Mumme will have any success at this small school, and even if he does, most won't remember him for that. Mumme, whose wife is a cancer survivor, will also have to wage his own cancer battle.

In the last decade, likely Mumme's entire career in D-1 football, his high water mark was a 7-5 season with Tim Couch as his quarterback -- hardly the stuff of legend. During his time he became notorious for goofy calls, an obsession with how many passing yards his team had (sometimes at the expense of winning), and a tenure forever tainted with recruiting violations, either with knowledge or simple lack of control. For these reasons, to many, if Mumme is a tragic figure, then he's somewhere between MacBeth and Dr. Faustus, as figures who got what was coming to them.

But that offense. That elegant, "backyard"-yet-disciplined approach to throwing the damn football. Many of Mumme's hallmarks -- throwing the ball repeatedly with a grand total of about ten passing plays practiced endlessly, warm up drills instead of stretching, relentless passes against "air" with five quarterbacks dropping back on every play, and an unyielding belief in "throwing the ball short to people who can score" -- can be seen not only in places like Texs Tech and the University of Arizona, but in countless high schools across the country. (I really cannot overstate this.) Tony Franklin, Mumme's St. Paul, proselytized the word of the pass-first, shotgun spread offense, and while Mumme may not be divine, he is not without messianic qualities: the rise of the spread and passing offense in the last decade, particularly in the lower levels of football, may have been inevitable, but Mumme's little system, mesh, shallow, Y-cross, Y-sail, Y-stick, and the others, along with his ingenious practice methods, delivered football forever from its more ancient roots.

The spread to run offense of Urban Meyer and Rich Rodriguez may ultimately prove more viral and sustained than the pass-first Airraid. But Mumme's legacy is assured; as prophet, harbinger, and technician of the explosion of the passing game throughout football, particularly at the lower levels. In his way, Hal Mumme might prove to be the most influential coach of the last two decades. I wouldn't bet against it: Hal always likes his odds.

Texas Tech - First-Year QB Comparisons

From Double-T Nation:

For the first time in two seasons, Texas Tech has a brand quarterback and although we're accustomed and grateful for what Graham Harrell did, it's time to look a bit forward and wonder what Taylor Potts might bring to the Red Raiders as a first year starter under Mike Leach's system.

Going into Graham's second year, I asked how much he could improve from one year to the other, but this time I thought that it might be a good idea to take a look at Symons, Cumbie, Hodges and Harrell's first (and sometimes only) year. The nice part about this is that it's a nice mix of players. It's not just one type of quarterback, which means that perhaps there's actually something to gain from looking at what we can expect.

. . .

Playing It Safe

What's the one thing that jumps out at Harrell's 2006 season? For me it's the fact that he had over 50 attempts for every interception. Contrast that with the touchdowns per attempt? Now, contrast that with Symons and what does that tell you? For me, it tells me that Symons was a guy that was going to take chances, while in Harrell's first year, he was dead set on playing it safe, evidenced by the lowest yards per attempt of any of the four, although he only beat out Cumbie in that category by one-one-hundredth of a point. There's got to be some middle ground here, and taking a look at Cumbie's 2004 season, his touchdown to attempt ration is far and away better than his partners in crime. Statistically, he's really not much better than his fellow quarterbacks and lost in all of this, sometimes is that Cumbie was just damned good at putting the ball in the endzone.

My Favorite QB Stat

I've probably beaten everyone over the head about yards per attempt and it's a really bad habit, but if you'll indulge me here, I'll try to make this quick. In the Air Raid offense, there may not be a more telling statistic about the success of a quarterback than yards per attempt. Every offense is better when the team is moving the ball vertically, rather than horizontally. That's probably one of the real misconceptions about Leach's offense, is that the intent may be to make it a dink-and-dump offense, but I think this is more than likely a product of the quarterback rather than the offense itself. Exhibits "A" and "B" are Symons and Hodges. Granted, the Air Raid is not as vertical as many other offenses, but taking last year as an example, Texas Tech ranked 20th in the nation at 8.11 yards per attempt. The offense bogs and becomes not as effective if the pass is going sideline to sideline.

While I completely agree that yards per pass attempt is the most valuable passing statistic, I also think it can be adjusted slightly to better capture the issue Seth is looking at here. Specifically, you can factor in interceptions using a simple rule of thumb. This is relevant here particularly for the raw numbers between Graham Harrell's first season, in 2006, and B.J. Symons's first and only season, in 2003.

- With raw numbers, Symons threw for 5336 yards on 666 attempts, for a yards per attempt of 8.01. He also threw 21 interceptions.

- For Harrell in 2006, he threw for 4555 yards on 617 attempts, along with only 11 interceptions.

What the stat guys are doing now is subtracting 45 yards for every INT thrown: they've crunched the numbers, and this is about what it takes away from you in terms of field position, scoring probability, etc.

If you did that for Harrell in 2006 (multiplying 11 times 45 yards and subtracting that from his raw passing yards) you get him 4060 adjusted total yards. Compare that with Symons' 21 INTs, which brings his total down to 4391. This makes their adjusted yards per attempt stats now 6.58 (Harrell) and 6.59 (Symons) -- nearly the same, though by different roads. Interesting, no?

The other X factor is QB sacks/runs. College stats make this hard of course: in the NFL, sacks are counted against passing yards and thus factored into yards per attempt. For Texas Tech QBs I think the safest thing is to just count the rushing attempts and yards all as part of the adjusted yards per attempt. (If this was Oregon or Tebow at Florida it'd be very difficult to do this without completely going back to the raw data and recreating the "sacks" and "yards lost by sack" statistics.)

Harrell's rushing stats in 2006 were 32 rushing attempts for -66 yards. Throwing that with the above adjusted numbers makes his new adjusted-adjusted total yards 3994, his total adjusted-adjusted attempts 649, and his adjusted-adjusted yards per pass attempt 6.15.

For Symons, in 2003 he rushed 74 times for 140 yards. Adding this to his passing attempts/yards we get 740 attempts and 4531 adjusted-adjusted yards. (I know that this number, unlike Harrell's, is actually positive, but I think it defensible to add it all back in because few Tech QB runs -- other than sneaks -- are called run plays.) So the adjusted yards per attempt is 6.12.

So Harrell actually beats out Symons in adjusted-adjusted yards per attempt, 6.15 to 6.12, though that's basically too close to make a call. I think it reinforces Seth's point that Leach has gotten it done with QBs of vastly different styles, especially considering these two guys were (probably) the best of that run by Leach where each first-year QB excelled that Harrell broke by starting more than one season.

In any event, the real point of this is to show how you might compare apples to oranges for any system or QB, with a guy like Symons who was acting as more of a gunslinger and Harrell who -- within the confines of Leach's wide-open offense -- was operating slightly more conservatively.

(I don't have exact cites but credit must be due to Advanced NFL Stats and the Pro Football Reference Blog, both of whom have undertaken similar analyses.)

Texas Tech run game cutups

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.

Getting Vertical with Dan Gonzalez

I asked Dan Gonzalez, author of the new book "Concept Passing: Teaching the Modern Passing Game, to discuss his take on the famous four verticals" route concept. I've discussed it only briefly, and even then as part of discussing other concepts.

So this is a great opportunity to look at the play in depth; it is a foundational route in several respects. After Dan's lucid explanation of the route I have some video and a brief description of how the Airraid guys run this route. But I'll begin with a brief overview before we dive into the details.

First, the concept is a great introduction for coaches, quarterbacks, and all players (as well as fans) to how to "stretch" or break down coverage. At core, the route involves four guys running "vertically" -- hence the name. They split the field four ways, and as a result typical "two-deep" (Cover two, Tampa Two) or one- or three-deep coverages (Cover three, Cover one man, certain zone blitzes) should not be able to defend the route.

Although when you talk about a "vertical" or "streak route," most people think of a deep bomb down the sidelines, the four-verticals concept really attacks the safeties; the outside routes will be thrown at times based on matchup, but usually you're trying to make the free safety wrong.




Above the the typical route setup. It carries some dynamic aspects, most usually the use of a "bender" receiver -- an inside receiver who will "bend" to a post route when the middle of the field is "open" (i.e. two deep safeties on the hashes, rather than a single one down the middle), and will stay on his seam route up the hashmark when there is a deep middle safety, as with Cover Three. Most college and even pro teams run it this way; it's a good play. I've discussed this "bender" or "divide" route in more depth previously.

But Dan's take is interesting because it goes a step further, which reflects his version's run and shoot origins. The "bender" receiver actually is given a far more dynamic "seam read," which gives him a wider variety of options to get open against the deep coverage, and even to come underneath the safeties if they play too deep. Also, the outside receivers are given "steak reads," where they are not locked into just going deep; they can stop and come back to the ball if the defender plays them deep.

As an example of this, on Texas Tech's famous final drive against Texas this past season, the Red Raiders called four-verticals on nearly almost single play of the drive (there was a bubble screen on at least one play). They never hit the seam routes and never threw a deep bomb, but they hit the outside receivers on "fade stop" routes, including on Michael Crabtree's famous game winner. (Tech's technique tells the receiver to go deep, but if he can't get deep -- and the defender is in press coverage with his back to the quarterback -- the QB will rifle the ball to the back of the defender's head and let the receiver stop and make a play. Video of the final drive and final play below.)



Finally, Dan's approach is also good because he shows how the play can be readily adapted to different formations while keeping it simple for the players (and coaches). As a side note, when people talk about being "pro-style," this is what they are talking about, or at least what they should be. Versatile, attacking passing concepts that let's the offense do a variety of things to a defense. In my view, unless you're an option team (and maybe even if you are), this is how your should be running your four-verticals play.

Dan Gonzalez's four verticals, in his words:

[Ed Note. This part is all Dan.] The "four verticals" pass play has become increasingly popular at all levels of football. What we have done that’s a little different is conceptualize its teaching. This gives us more flexibility and allows the time we invest in it in practice to carry over to other parts of the offense.

Let’s look at the basic setup:

1. We have one guy on a locked seam (Usually the "Y" receiver; vertical in 2-2 or crossing the hash in 3-1) who "owns" the hashmark AWAY from the seam reader, who we always consider part of the "frontside."

2. The seam reader is taught to take the highest angle through the defense (which eliminates the confusion of Cov two, three, four, etc.). His two caveats are: he must cross the face of any man defender [ed. break inside on a post or in-breaking route] and he must look to the quarterback as he passes by the linebacker (thus, versus a blitz, he looks as soon as he comes off the ball).

3. The outside wide receivers run streak reads: first, win deep if you can, but break down if you cannot. They will make this decision at 10 yards, while running full speed. If the defense maintains deep leverage, the receiver must slam on the breaks and come back down the stem of his route (i.e. rather than an out or an in or curl) towards the line of scrimmage.

4. The back drags toward the seam reader.

With twin receivers to both sides:



From three by one (trips):



Quarterback: The QB starts his eyes on the locked seam, timed up with a quick five-step drop (from shotgun, a quick three-steps). The quarterback will throwwill turn it loose with no hitch step. If he has to hitch, his eyes must move from the locked seam to the other slot, the "seam reader" (this allows the pattern to develop). [Ed. Note: This means he takes a full drop but must be ready to throw the moment his back foot hits; you see a lot of QB's "hitch up" or step up in the pocket, which is fine, but the first read must be thrown as soon as the back foot hits. It is what is known as a rhythm throw, and the ability to do this often separates quarterbacks. Also, it's not just an arm strength thing, it's a discipline, footwork, rhythm, and timing thing, though arm strength can sometimes be a factor.]

The quarterback must be ready and have a window with which to deliver the ball to the seam reader. If he can't, then its not open. If he hitches again he has to move his eyes to the back.

The backside streak read comes into play if the free safety's pre-snap location puts him in a spot which tells the quarterback that the locked seam will be there (this is referred to as "displacement"). If the locked seam isn't there when this free-safety displacement says it should be (the backside linebacker must be taking it away), the QB hitches and throws the 1 on 1 streak read.

The big thing about the way we teach the four verticals concept is that when we get to these other looks (diagrammed below), we introduce absolutely no new learning for the QB or the key players:

From two backs:



From no backs:



With “Switched” releases from three-by-one or two-by-one sets, respectively:





Using an outside receiver as a drag runner:



Using the tailback as a vertical threat:



Variations on a theme (other approaches to four-verticals)

[Back to Chris] So that is Dan's introductory breakdown of the four-verticals concept. As noted above, there is more about this concept to be found in his book, along with lots of other material. I recommend it.

Below is video of some Airraid teams -- Texas Tech (Mike Leach) and New Mexico State (Hal Mumme) -- running their version of the four-verticals route. It is similar, with these differences:

They use the same "landmarks" approach with the outside receivers up the numbers (about 4-5 yards from the sideline) and the slots just up the outside of the hashmarks. (In high school the hashmarks are wider so the receivers just head up them; in the NFL they are narrower than college so the landmark is further outside the hashmarks.)

The outside receivers use a similar technique, except as observed above they use more of a "fade-stop" approach than Gonzalez's true route conversion to comeback to the football. If the receiver cannot beat his defender deep and that defender has his head turned away from the quarterback, the QB has the option of drilling the ball at the back of the DB's head, thus letting the receiver make a play.

The inside receivers don't have a "bend" or true open/closed read. Instead, the Airraid guys just have them try to get deep, but if they get to 12-14 yards or so and cannot, they will break down and effectively run curl routes at about 14-16 yards. In this way they get their variety and can attack different coverages.

The runningback runs a true "option" or dodge route: he pushes to a depth of five yards and tries to "step on the linebacker's toes" (break any cushion). If the linebacker plays inside leverage, he breaks out; if he plays outside, the RB breaks in. If it is zone he will settle down in the hole underneath. As you can see from the clips, the RB often comes wide open when the defense retreats too much for the four-verticals.

Otherwise the QB's read is basically the same: he reads inside to out from the free-safety and looks for the best one-on-one matchup (Michael Crabtree). The cut-ups are below, thanks to Court Allam of Olathe South High School (Olathe, KS).



Finally, below is some video of of the "verticals" concept (though with some variance to both what Dan does and the Airraid guys does) courtesy of Bruce Eien, coach of Brethren Christian High School.



Wrap-up

The four-verticals is a staple of nearly every modern passing game, be it spread, pro-style, or option-based. But even though it is common doesn't mean it can't be better. Dan's approach should give food for thought to anyone who has just been sending four guys down the field (or watching their team do it) without the minor coaching points that make the play really go.

Airraid offense information, reading material, and passing concepts

This post is intended as a resource dump for links and items related to the "Airraid Offense," the pass-first offense devised by Hal Mumme and Mike Leach as a derivative of the old Lavell Edwards/Norm Chow/BYU offense. Other notable Airraid acolytes include coaches Chris Hatcher and Tony Franklin. And other notable coaches, including Sonny Dykes, Art Briles, and Mark Mangino, have all coached with Leach or Mumme and incorporate their concepts to varying degrees. At core, this article gives me something to link to every time I use the term "Airraid."

• Links from Bruce Eien's website: (A) Play and concept diagrams, (B) Explanation of the Airraid shallow cross concept, (C) "Airraid for High School" (quick diagrams of some core pass concepts).
  
  
• Playbooks: (A) 2000 Valdosta St (Chris Hatcher); (B) 1999 Oklahoma (Mike Leach); (C) 2001 Hoover High School (Rush Probst - HC; Tony Franklin client).
  
  
• Archive of Smart Football articles tagged as "Airraid."
  
  
• "Kentucky's Airraid Offense" - AFCA Clinic article by Chris Hatcher, Tony Franklin, and Guy Morris.
  
  
• Hal Mumme's Airraid Practice Plan
  
  
• Valdosta State's Passing Attack - Chris Hatcher article on the shallow and the mesh concepts.
  
  
• Chris Hatcher explains "60 out" -- outside comeback routes with the inside receivers on seam routes. (Hat tip: Spencer Hall and the Sporting News).
  
  
  
  
• "Spread 'em and Shred 'em" - Site dedicated to the Airraid
  
  
• Running the Airraid at a small high school - Coaching Article by Neil Weiner
  
  
• Official Tony Franklin System Site
  
  
• "Leach and Tech Flying High" - Article by Bob Davie on Texas Tech's offense
  
  
• "Quarterback's reading is done on field at Texas Tech" - Washington Post article
  
  
• "Coach Leach Goes Deep, Very Deep" - Profile of Mike Leach for the New York Times Magazine by the always excellent Michael Lewis.
  
  
• "Running Back Routes in the Airraid" - American Football Monthly article by Hal Mumme
  
  
• Coach Huey's Xs and Os site (Registration required) - Lots of experienced coaches; use the "search" feature for Airraid and one will find multitudes of information
  

Below are the major Airraid/BYU concepts combined with Norm Chow's reads for each. Note that this more closely hews to the original BYU version than the Airraid version, which has slight differences. If you can't figure out the differences after reading all of the above, then heaven help you. (Thanks to Bruce Eien for some of the diagrams.)

61 Y OPTION




5 step drop. Eye Y and throw it to him unless taken away from the outside by S/S (then hit Z), OR inside by ILB (then hit FB). Don’t throw option route vs. man until receiver makes eye contact with you. Vs. zone – can put it in seam. Vs. zone – no hitch step. Vs. man – MAY need hitch step.

62 MESH



5 step drop. Take a peek at F/S – if he’s up hit Z on post. Otherwise watch X-Y mesh occur – somebody will pop open – let him have ball. Vs. zone – throw to Fullback.

63 DIG



5 step drop and hitch (7 steps permissible). Read F/S: X = #1; Z = #2; Y OR HB = #3.

64 OUT



5 step drop. Key best located Safety on 1st step. Vs. 3 deep look at F/S – if he goes weak – go strong (Z = #1 to FB = #2 off S/S); if he goes straight back or strong – go weak (X = #1 to HB = #2 off Will LB). Vs. 5 under man – Y is your only choice. Vs. 5 under zone – X & Z will fade.

65 FLOOD ("Y-Sail")



5 step drop and hitch. Read the S/S. Peek at Z #1; Y = #2; FB = #3. As you eyeball #2 & see color (F/S flash to Y) go to post to X. Vs. 2 deep zone go to Z = #1 to Y = #2 off S/S.

66 ALL CURL



5 step drop and hitch. On your first step read Mike LB (MLB or first LB inside Will in 3-4). If Mike goes straight back or strong – go weak (X = #1; HB = #2). If Mike goes weak – go strong (Y = #1; Z = #2; FB = #3). This is an inside-out progression. NOT GOOD vs. 2 deep 5 under. (See my article on this route here.)

67 CORNER/POST/CORNER ("Shakes")



5 step drop and hitch. Read receiver (WR) rather than defender (Corner). Vs. 2 deep go from Y = #1 to Z = #2. Vs. 3 deep read same as “64” pass (Will LB) for X = #1 or HB = #2. Equally good vs Cover 2 regardless if man OR zone under. (See my article on this route here.)

68 SMASH



5 step drop and hitch. Vs. 2 deep look HB = #1; FB = #2 (shoot); Z = #3. Vs. 3 deep – stretch long to short to either side. Vs. man – go to WR’s on “returns”.

69 Y-CROSS/H-Option



5 step drop - hitch up only if you need to. Eye HB: HB = #1; Y = #2. QB & receiver MUST make eye contact vs. man. Vs. zone – receiver finds seam (takes it a little wider vs. 5 under). Only time you go to Y is if Will LB and Mike LB squeeze HB. If Will comes & F/S moves over on HB – HB is “HOT” and will turn flat quick and run away from F/S. Otherwise HB runs at his man to reinforce his position before making his break.

Video clips

Below is an assortment of video clips of the offense. Nothing too technical. You should be able to recognize the concepts nonetheless.

Smart Notes - Nov. 25, 2008

1. Woody and Bo: War as They Knew It

The New York Times this weekend had a review of a new book about Woody Hayes and Bo Schembechler. The review and I gather the book place the two men in the socio-political climate that they operated in, with the book's main thesis being the interesting dynamic of having these authoritarian, almost statist football coaches and programs located on campuses that had begun bustling with counter-culture and anti-war movements. There are a couple good anecdotes from the review:

The defensive lineman Pete Newell skipped the momentous 1969 antiwar rally in Washington to make a road game in Iowa. After­ward, Schembechler praised him before the players for being “out there in Iowa City with the rest of the team, and not in Washington with the damn hippies where he really wanted to be.”

And

An amusing running joke in the book centers on his assistant coaches’ struggle to find the team Friday night pregame movies that didn’t subvert traditional values. (The years 1969-78 did not constitute a Hayes-friendly era in American film.) One assistant was relieved of this duty after picking “Easy Rider,” which he thought was about a motorcycle race. The mention of lesbianism in “Slap Shot” prompted Hayes to shout, “This is TRASH!,” berate the thea­ter manager and storm back to the hotel.

The line between coaching, and culture, between developing football players and developing men, has always been there. This site is dedicated to a lot of strategy and Xs and Os, but anyone who has ever played, well, anything, knows that coaches do not solely teach the sport that they coach, they teach themselves. Without diving into any of the tensions of that time, it is obviously true that coaching takes on odd and difficult dynamics when the kids they coach grow up in climates markedly different than their own, or for college coaches, the campus's climate.

For Hayes, it eventually caught up with him, in one of coaching's oldest storylines (though rarely played out so dramatically):

In Rosenberg’s most evocative passage, players from Hayes’s 1968 national championship squad return to campus for a 10th-­anniversary reunion, and are shocked at the lack of respect the current team shows the man they once feared. The decline of authority had finally brought down Woody Hayes, along with so many other institutions of the time. In this sense, he was ultimately prescient.

As a final note, the thing that most surprised me about the review was that it begins with the reviewer, Jonathan Chait, mentioning that he took a college course called "Theory, Strategy and Practice of Football," taught by Michigan's coaching staff. I have to say, unfortunately for me, they didn't offer that course where I went to school.

2. Oklahoma's clobbering of Texas Tech

So Oklahoma destroyed Texas Tech, 65-21. Not a total surprise that OU won, or even that they won decisively, but I can't say too many predicted that it would just be a beatdown for the ages. Lots of theories spun about why it was such a blowout. I've boiled down the possible explanations to five.

1. #1. Oklahoma simply has far superior talent, and any other result would have been a surprise.
   
   
2. #2. Oklahoma has figured out the Airraid offense for good, and they simply had Tech's number. The offense will not work against Texas Tech; return your Airraid DVDs to the store.
   
   
3. #3. Texas Tech's defense was overmatched, and no offense could have kept up the pace with how OU ran over, through, and between Tech's hapless defenders.
   
   
4. #4. Texas Tech's defense was overmatched, and to have kept pace with how OU ran over, through, and between Tech's hapless defenders, Tech's Airraid offense would have required an absolutely perfect game from Harrell, and he was not perfect, though not terrible.
   
   
5. #5. Oklahoma simply prepared better than Texas Tech in the two weeks leading up to the game.
   

To Airraid aficionados (i.e. the coaches who put their stock behind the offense but not the team), the favorite answer seems to be #1: this way when Tech beat Texas and Okie St it was because of their great schemes, but when they lost to OU it was because they had inferior talent. I don't think it is so easy. Texas Tech has more playmakers and good skill guys than people give them credit for; recruiting rankings alone can't be the difference. That said, clearly Oklahoma, particularly on the offensive and defensive lines, had a decided advantage.

To traditionalists tired of hearing about Leach's offense and the high-flying Airraid with Crabtree, Harrell, et. al, #2 is appealing. To them, it was an example of a turning back of the clock with respect to all this offense-shotgun-nonsense, and instead OU got behind the center and handed the ball off in front of a nation enamored with the shotgun-spread. Further, the storyline is that Stoops, Venables, and others basically have Leach's number, they've figured the offense out, and don't expect all that stuff to work against them. Stoops even reinforced this storyline after the game, by noting that most games between Tech and OU haven't been close. But this too is overblown. The game wasn't a referendum on the offense, it was a battle between two teams. OU clearly has a talent advantage of some kind, and although the offense didn't do nearly enough to even approach winning, it was only a few bad drives before the game was 21-0 and was basically out of reach.

That said, there's a kernal of truth to Stoops' theory about knowing that offense. As I've pointed out before, Leach ran his offense at OU exactly how he wanted. If OU does "get" Leach's offense, he doesn't get it in a way that another team could just pop in the tape and pick up. The Airraid, as much as it is certain schemes -- and no doubt OU's defense sat in zone a lot of the night working on their ability to pattern read the traditional Airraid concepts -- but the Airraid is an approach to football as much as it is an offense. If the OU guys have this heightened familiarity, it's not just schemes, it's knowing how Leach runs a practice, how they practice screens, indeed, how he approaches the game. Again, I don't think OU has the offense or Leach figured out once and for all (I mean, Tech did beat OU the year before and scored over thirty on them), but I can't completely discount this.

Regarding #5, I can't really say. I think Tech came out flat and got overwhelmed. I think OU used its time well, but it's hard to say that Tech just didn't prepare correctly.

#3 and #4 are interesting. This was a team loss by Tech; it can neither be laid at the feet totally of the defense or offense. Guys who love the offense try to blame the defense; guys who hate the offense (or at least hate the hype) try to lay it on the O. The defense was essentially not there, but the offense also turned it over leading directly to scores. I honestly think #4 is onto something, but not necessarily anything that revolutionary.

I haven't been able to break the tape down exactly for this game, but it did seem like there were open receivers and the protection was not horrible. Harrell, Tech's quarterback, was certainly not awful, but I don't think he was all that great. And the fact is that in this offense, against superior talent, the quarterback must be flawless. To score a touchdown on any drive Harrell was required to identify and squeeze in seven yard pass after seven yard pass. It's not easy to do that flawless over and over again. On the other hand, Bradford for OU was required to manage the game, hand it off, and run some play action and take some downfield shots. He missed a little bit, but hit more than enough. His receivers were often wide open, usually because the defense could not contain both the run and the pass.

But is this to say that the old-school, traditional offenses are better? Not necessarily. OU had more talent, good schemes, and good weapons. Tech's defenders couldn't stop anything, so every time they overcompensated OU made them pay. As I said, Tech's QB had to play flawlessly; he did not; the game got out of hand quickly. Yet look at the NFL: almost every game is very competitive between teams with largely even talent, and it seems like every game is decided either by quarterback play or the lines.

So again, nothing revolutionary. If you're going to run a spread, you must have a great quarterback. This is true if you are a running spread or passing spread. If Tim Tebow was knocked out for the season, how different would things be in the National Title picture? When Tech beat OU last year, Sam Bradford was knocked out. Similarly, though less black and white, quarterback play, in modern offenses, must be excellent-to-perfect to consistently win games. Tech has had that most of the year from Harrell, certainly so in the biggest games. They did not have it against OU. This is not to say that he put in a poor showing, but if your offense requires perfection, you can bank on not getting it every single week, though as I said, this is a problem not unique to the Airraid offense Leach runs.

Texas Tech's Offense and the Hot Hand Theory

After Texas Tech's drubbing of Oklahoma St, and the much-quoted fact that they scored a touchdown on seven straight possessions, I heard yet another commentator say that their offense was "streaky." And you hear this about other offenses too, and you hear it constantly in other sports, particularly about shooters in basketball and hitters in baseball. As I've written about previously, I think the idea of "hot streaks" are overblown.


Try flipping a coin fifty times. If you chart out the results, I would wager that it does not look as even as you might expect. Just because it's an equal chance of heads or tails doesn't mean you neatly get heads-heads followed by tails-tails. Instead you get seemingly bizarre - seemingly streaky - patterns of, say, fourteen heads followed by a few back and forth then sixteen tails. The probabilities aren't all that different.

So it is with most offenses. There's an imaginary equilibrium of how much we'd expect a particular offense to score against a particular defense. This is the average score if, say, Alabama played LSU a thousand times. But there's variance; each game is different. And once you look at it like that, you see how silly it can be to get too wrapped up into comparing a couple of drives back to back.

The answer with a team like Texas Tech is that they have a hell of an offense, and we can just expect them to score a lot. How they get those points, in what order, all in the first half, all in the second, is largely a function of variance, or in other words, luck.

I am reminded of all this because the game that seemed a shining example of this was Texas Tech's 31 point comeback in their bowl game against Minnesota a couple of years back. Tech was down 31 in the second half, and, after a barrage of passes from then-sophomore quarterback Graham Harrell, Tech won, and Glen Mason lost his job. As I stated:

As most of you know, Texas Tech came back from 31 down with 7 minutes to go in the third quarter to beat Minnesota. What was amazing to me, as I watched the game, was that despite the short time frame, the entire thing happened almost sleepily. The "comeback" appeared like some odd mixture of luck and manifest destiny. Minnesota did not really lose the game like most teams who give up huge comebacks do. Indeed, Minnesota should be a team designed to control second half leads: they have an impressive running game and a methodical passing game to complement it. Minnesota did not turn the ball over in the second half, and got a number of first downs. Tech did not get particularly good field position, either. The most frantic moment of the entire game was Tech's 90+ yard drive to kick a 52-year field goal, and even that still seemed surprisingly serene. . . .

There actually is an entire field of study dedicated to this idea regarding sports, investing, and other facets of life and it is called the "hot hand fallacy." (See also here, and here.) Surely we've all experienced and witnessed the "hot streak" or the "cold streak" in basketball where a shooter has a poor half and then literally can't miss in the second. We see the swing in momentum, the crowd cheering or silenced, the shooter's swagger, his confidence, his teammates feeding him the ball, and his confidence to shoot it from anywhere on the court with a hand in his face.

Except that is an illusion. At least according to researchers Gillovich, Vallone, and Tversky: If you're a 40% field goal shooter for the season, you're pretty much a 40% shooter all the time, even if in one game you shot 20-22 and another 1-15. It evens out over time. The difference is just chance.

This same logic applies to football, and to no offense in football more than Texas Tech's. Clearly, over the last several years Tech's offense has been one of the most productive in football. It's been well documented that Leach's offense often sputters for a quarter or two before exploding to score points at an almost ridiculous pace. So maybe the comeback wasn't such an aberration. 44 points is not so abnormal for them--what's the difference if they had scored those touchdowns on every other drive over the course of the entire game, rather than scoring them all in the second half?

I did note an exception to this, though. Not all football teams or quarterbacks act like coins; sometimes they can get rattled, and the probabilities can change on the basis of perceived adversity. The "human coin" would be someone like Michael Jordan. He's shot millions of free-throws, and he was not going to be rattled. If he missed five free-throws in a row, it wasn't because he was rattled, it was because that's how the coin flip turned out (though it was a stacked coin, with 90% heads and 10% tails).

But with young players, they might let it get to them. I noted this with Harrell in that game: he was but a sophomore then, but he had a full-season under his belt. Had he not, I do not think he would have had the confidence to keep the probabilities the same. Flash forward to now. Last second drives against Texas, falling behind early against Oklahoma State. Not an issue. Harrell's just out there coolly flipping his coins. I will end with what I said about the end of that comeback game, which has renewed relevance now.

The upshot of all this is simply that, particularly from an offensive standpoint, you practice to remove emotion and to remove the hot hand effect. You want to be Michael Jordan looking at the game winning free throw like it is just the 156th free throw after a routine practice. I think what made Leach come to tears after the game is that everyone on the team - coaches, player, fans - went about their business as usual. Tech didn't come back by launching hail marys, running trick plays, grabbing turnovers, or even really getting lucky breaks. Everyone bought into the system and the program, did their job, played smart football, and performed.

I think what brought Leach to tears was the realization that, for young kids in a hyperbolic football world, sometimes it's brave and valiant simply to do your job.

* As a final note, sorry for all being all Texas Tech all-the-time recently, but (a) I've been acutely familiar with Leach (once had a long conversation with him about applying the pythagorean theorem to calculate how long a QB's throw was) and that offense for over a decade, so it's nice for me to see their success, and (b) their past two prime-time games have really been the only football I've been able to see recently. In any event, there might be a bit of a delay before my next post, because I'm working on some more detailed substantive posts - or as Orson Swindle likes to call them, my "coach porn" articles - about Florida's offense along with a couple of passing concepts in vogue right now. So stay tuned for those.