The NFL Draft: My Methodology on Scouting, Evaluating & Ranking Prospects

from NFL.com

Over the next day or so I’m going to be posting some pre-Combine draft primer material; a way-too-early and incomplete Big Board, some positional rankings, and probably a hilariously-way-way-way-too-early mock draft. The following blog post is a good primer for that primer. It outlines in general (when I need to get more specific I will) how I go about evaluating players and how I develop my rankings. It’s a fairly arbitrary process that has been in work for over a decade (and I’m only 22!!...Wow I was a weird, awesome kid…) and is still continuing to evolve. I don’t get paid to be a “draft expert,” but I call myself one anyway. Links to previous years' rankings are at the very bottom of this post.

I’m not a professional scout. Nor have I ever worked as a professional scout. Nor have I ever been a professional coach or player. Nor have I ever been an amateur coach or player. I have absolutely no qualifications as a draft evaluator. Zero.

That said, for an “armchair GM” as such fellows as myself are called, I’m pretty damn good at it.

So how do I come up with my rankings?

It’s mostly done through excessive—almost absurd amounts—of reading. I read the obvious places: NFL.com, ESPN.com, CBSsports.com, BleacherReport.com, Scout.com, Rivals.com, WalterFootball.com. I read the obvious people: Mel Kiper, Mike Mayock, Daniel Jeremiah, Todd McShay, Gil Brandt, Greg Cosell, Rob Rang, Charley Casserly, Pat Kirwan, Matt Miller, Dane Brugler.

I look at less obvious websites that I find through extensive google searches. I read beat reporters. I read student newspapers if I have to. I just dig up information.

I read the scouting reports. I read the rumors. I read about work ethic and off-the-field issues. I read about which teams value certain players and where they value them, as reported by “sources” and “anonymous GMs.”

I watch the Senior Bowl. I watch the NFL Combine. I watch pro-days. I watch Gruden’s QB Camp. I watch Mel Kiper and Todd McShay yell at each other until spit flies from their lips and Mel’s forehead turns a shade of red particular to his angry face and unfortunate sunburn victims.

I watch as much college football as I can stomach. I don’t like the college game. I like the NFL. But I love, love, love the draft, so I tune in on Saturdays to see what I can see. Anytime I have an extremely high opinion of a player—a draft “crush,” if you will—it’s because I’ve seen them play live, and I thought, now that kid is a football player. I’ll get into this more later.

I also look at a player’s collegiate production and take into account the quality of their competition. This is the easiest part of the process, but one that factors in significantly.

I understand the “prototypes” for every position. I know what they should weigh, how tall they should be, how long their arms should be, how fast they should run the 40 yard dash, how many bench-press reps they can do, how high they can jump and how far they can leap. I know how big their hands are supposed to be.

Football isn’t played on paper, so height/weight/speed isn’t a tell-all, but it’s an important part of the scouting process. In fact, it makes up nearly one-third of it; both theoretically (meaning the majority of an evaluation should be based on game-play or film) and temporally (meaning the college season is typically approximately six months, and “draft season” is typically three).

I would be lying if I said I didn’t put a lot of stock into measurables. I try not to, but when you have limited access to game film and limited access to the players themselves for interviews and the like (i.e. none), you make do with what you do have.

Part of my methodology also comes from my bias as a 49ers fan, a bias I’m not ashamed of and never try to hide. I don’t necessarily order my Big Board rankings as if I were picking for the 49ers, but players I would like to see in red and gold inevitably sneak their way into and up my Top 100. I’m usually vocal about which players those are, and I usually let it be known when a players is being “knocked” for his not fitting in our scheme.

I then take all of these things into account, these varying components, and synthesize them into my own evaluation of a player. It's a mish-mash of personal observation, hearsay, and statistical analysis, with an ample dash of gut feeling. And I'm a master chef.

For example:

Last year Sharrif Floyd was widely considered the consensus top defensive tackle in the draft. He was rarely mocked outside the top-10 (usually he didn’t get past Oakland at No. 3), and even less rarely mocked or ranked behind Sheldon Richardson or Star Lotulelei.

So why did I have him below both those guys?

First of all, I watched all three of them play and I was taken with Sheldon Richardson right away. He wasn’t always dominant, but he was always impactful and always hustling. Star Lotulelei made almost the same impression. Watching Sharrif, I didn’t see the same impact. Obviously other draft evaluators did, but I didn’t.

Secondly, both Sheldon Richardson and Star Lotulelei are more physically and athletically imposing in measurable terms. While Star didn’t participate in many of the Combine drills (if my memory serves), Sheldon Richardson shined, confirming my opinion of him as an elite athlete. Elite athletes with high motors and great production (which Richardson has all of) come around fairly rarely, so I knew he was going to be special and I ranked him thusly. Sharrif Floyd has T-Rex syndrome (something Trent Baalke by and large does not tolerate). His arms are shorter than the “prototype.” It’s not always a big deal, but it does matter, especially when playing DT in a 4-3 against the run. It’s difficult to gain leverage. Many evaluators were quick to point it out, but more quick to dismiss it as an issue. I was not, probably because I hadn’t seen enough game tape to be enthralled by his play and feel like he worked around his lack of arm length effectively.

Thirdly, I wanted Sheldon Richardson to be a 49er. I wanted him to be the heir apparent to Justin Smith. He got a bump in ranking not only for that bias, but also because I loved his scheme versatility. He had enough length and strength to be a dominant five-technique (a DE in a 3-4 scheme), but was quick and fluid enough to play a penetrative three-technique (a DT in a 4-3). Star Lotulelei offered similar scheme versatility, and was similarly rewarded in my rankings. In fact, he was rewarded more so, because he had the size and agility to effectively (if not dominantly) man all three defensive tackle techniques; the five, the three and the zero (nose tackle).

So in the end I had Sheldon Richardson as my top-rated defensive player, Star Lotulelei as my third and Sharrif Floyd as my 11^th  rated defensive prospect (my third DT). [Which, I should mention again, you can see in my 2013 Big Board and Positional Rankings, both linked at the bottom of this blog post.]

So far I look great on this (the exact reason I picked this as an example of my methodology in action) as Richardson was Defensive Rookie of the Year and Lotulelei wasn’t far off, while Floyd didn’t come close to living up to the hype surrounding him pre-draft (though in fairness I think injury had much to do with it).

However, as often as I look great I make mistakes. And I’ll call those out too.

I had Eric Reid rated 41^st overall (41^st!) and merely 4^th amongst safeties.

While it’s way too early to judge the 2013 class, I think it’s fair to say Reid has justified or surpassed the expectations for him as the 18^th overall pick and second safety taken off the board. I missed on scouting him, even in a year when I knew the 49ers would be looking to draft a safety to replace DaShon Goldson.

Looking back on it, I don’t have many excuses. Reid fits the bill for a prototype safety from a height/weight/speed perspective. I watched him make a ridiculous and game-changing interception of A.J. McCarron in LSU and Alabama’s initial meeting in the 2011 season. I knew he was smart, hard-working, and motivated from multiple reports. I knew Jim Harbaugh had tried to recruit him while he was at Stanford thanks to the reporting of the 49ers’ beat reporters.

I think that ultimately it came down to me buying into the hype, something I always try to avoid doing (and succeed at fairly well if I can pat myself on the back). As good as Reid was last year, it’s hard to argue without a lot of hindsight that he was a better prospect than Kenny Vaccaro, so I get a pass there. I think I fell in love with Cyprien and Swearinger in the draft process (mostly during the Senior Bowl) and merely bumped them ahead of Reid who I felt was in the same general class as them, but not quite as good. Cyprien had a ton of buzz around him because he was a big-time prospect coming out of a small school, which always gets a ton of reporting and internet scouting.

And there were a lot of scouting reports knocking Reid’s play in his final season of college as a junior, which many onlookers (the people I read) felt was worse than his breakout sophomore year. Much of it was attributed to the defensive talent which left LSU for the NFL Draft in between those two seasons. Reid’s ability to be a key playmaker in a defense was challenged. It was argued he needed strong pieces around him to succeed.

Whether or not that is the case I suppose time might tell. But it may not, because right now and in the foreseeable future the 49ers have plenty of talent on defense, so Reid may never have to be one of the lone “stars” on that side of the ball. It could be a B.S. knock on a great player anyway. Who knows? All I know is that he was great in his rookie season and far outperformed my fairly low ranking of him.

I can make excuses and take credit for other parts of my rankings—like ranking Trent Richardson second overall in 2012 (Jesus), or Russell Wilson 100^th (but who didn’t underrate that guy), or ranking Jamie Collins 14^th overall last year (man I’m good), or T.Y. Hilton 69^th a couple years ago (he was pick 92^nd…man I’m good)—which I have, for the first time ever, made available for public consumption on the internet.

I suppose there isn’t any way I can 100% guarantee I haven’t tampered with my rankings since the drafts they’re based on took place, but I can give you my word that I haven’t, if that means anything. These are no different than they were on the day of each of their respective drafts. As some sort of evidence there are a couple photos below that are taken of hard copies I printed out prior to each draft. 

The boxes I’ve filled in with hastily scrawled pen were left blank for that purpose, as I mark down when and by which team each player on my Big Board was drafted. It’s a good way for me to keep up with the draft as it happens live—a tradition I have completed each year for the past decade or more. Sadly, I don’t have my oldest rankings (I’ve been doing this annual filling out of the final Big Boards for at least five years, but I think longer). They’re in a box somewhere, or on an old computer or external hard drive long since gone. I do have 2012 and 2013 though, so you’re in luck.

I think you'd have to grow up a diehard 49er fan in the dark ages (the Erickson/Nolan/Singletary era) to develop this kind of obsession with the drafting of amateur athletes into a professional league. For almost 10 years it was the only thing us Niner fans really had to look forward to. Thankfully that's over now, but the obsession remains.

I’ve actually taken the time (and believe me it took some damn time) to fill-in the Big Boards on MS Word with the actual spot each player was drafted so you can conveniently peruse them and judge my efforts if you so please.

Links are at the bottom in the form of google docs.

PLEASE REMEMBER (sorry for yelling, this is important) the Big Board is not a mock draft. It is the order I would draft players based on their talent-level and projected production and contribution to a team, regardless of positional need. Basically, the best player in the draft is first, the second best second, etc. Sometimes (it’s rare) I leave players off of my Big Board even if they belong in the Top-100. I’m not an actual GM making actual picks, so usually guys with bad injuries or character concerns are left on the board, but it has happened that a player gets left off completely.

Also note that while it is nice to “hit” on where a player is drafted (e.g. a guy I have ranked 20^th is picked at No. 20 in the actual draft) that’s also not really what this is about. That’s a good indication I had a similar read on the talent coming out of class as an actual NFL GM, but if my board is perfect (which is impossible), it doesn’t matter how many times I “hit.” It just matters that in three or four years you look at my rankings and think, yep that is the exact order, from highest to lowest in terms of how good each player actually has been in the NFL, that it should be in. So retrospectively Jerry Rice and Joe Montana should be at the top of the Big Boards from their draft classes.

Like I said, this is impossible. Literally. There are too many variables; injuries, coaching changes, scheme fit and scheme versatility, personal issues, etc. But it’s the goal. It’s also very difficult to judge positional value (a QB is more valuable than a guard, but how do you rank them in respect to one another if the guard is a better guard than a quarterback is a quarterback?).

It’s an imperfect process; an exercise in futility actually. Some of it is more art and instinct than science and evaluation. But it’s fun, and there is something to this whole scouting thing. It isn’t a complete crapshoot.

So, tomorrow I’ll start posting this year’s pre-Combine draft primer. I’ll have some initial and too-early positional rankings, offensive and defensive rankings, a not-fully-complete half-assed Big Board, and just for shits and giggles, a mock draft. I’ll also have some sparse analysis of certain players thrown in here and there.

The positional rankings and Big Board will change shortly after the Combine and will continue to grow and evolve during the months after the Combine leading up to the Draft on May 8^th. So take everything I post now with a grain of salt.

Still, this is also an important part of the process—to develop early rankings now, before the Combine—so you can see how Combine performance, player interviews, and the media hype machine effects player perception throughout the draft process. Some of it is honing down on players that were previously underappreciated. Some of it is total bullshit. These rankings, in theory, should give us a good starting point from which to judge such developments.

It’s also a good way to get to know some names and familiarize yourself with the position groups to start developing your own “crushes.” Between half-a-dozen and a dozen of these guys are going to be in red and gold come May. Time to start doing your homework.

Links to Past Rankings:

2012 Big Board

2013 Big Board

2013 Positional Rankings/Offensive Rankings/Defensive Rankings & Mock Draft

The NFC Championship in Review: How San Francisco Fell to Seattle

It’s taken me awhile, over two weeks all told, to get over the heartbreak and find the time to do some analysis of the 49ers' season-ending loss to the Seahawks in the NFC Championship game.

The following column relies heavily on graphics, all of which are screenshots from a game recap on NFL.com (which can be found HERE).

I struggled with how to organize all of this. I initially intended to order it by how significant the play was in the course of the game, but it’s difficult—or wholly impossible—to really determine the significance of a play without also considering the time and context that the play came in. All of which is a roundabout way of saying that it’s not only easier, but probably more effective, to just be simple and do this (with a couple special exceptions) chronologically.

It might be difficult to remember, given how things ended, but the first play of the game could not have gone any better. Aldon Smith showed why—when he’s got his shit together—he is one of the most dominant players in the game of football, on either side of the ball. Let’s take a quick gander at what pure brilliance looks like for a second. 

Of course, and any 49er fan that has even the slightest grip on reality was expecting it, we weren’t able to pick up even a single first down following the turnover, and we settled for a field goal.

Obviously, there’s so much time left in the game at this point that it’s difficult to quantify how important that turnover was, or that field goal, or the lack of a touchdown, but honestly that might have been the single biggest series in the game—for the Seahawks to come away with only a FG against them at that juncture. The Niners' biggest weakness—redzone offense—came out to haunt them as all of us fans feared it would.  

Still, if you had told me the game would begin with a Seattle turnover and a San Francisco field goal, I would have taken that gladly. It was a solid start and the defense was playing fast and hitting hard.

We could look at Donte Whitner’s the-NFL-seriously-is-out-to-get-this-guy-I-can’t-believe-they-called-that-in-the-most-important-game-of-the-season-how-fucking-ticky-tack-the-league-is-withering-and-going-to-shit-I-understand-the-need-for-player-safety-but-come-on-this-is-getting-absurd-how-in-the-world-can-he-do-anything-different-at-all-and-still-have-the-respect-of-his-teammates-and-peers-as-a-football-player “hit to the head and neck area” call. We can even go back to Seattle’s first big pass completion, which by all rights should have been intercepted by Eric Reid, but who mistimed his jump ever so slightly.

Before I continue I want to quote myself. This is from my Championship game preview, “Once again, let’s reach back into our bag of clichés and pull out the most flaccid, clammy, uninteresting one we can! The team that wins will be the team that plays better.”

I made a number of self-effacing comments about the nature of this cliché, but it’s one that is used—in different variations—by NFL coaches and players in every post-game conference across the league.

Colin Kaepernick is fond of saying, “We need to make more plays.” Or,“We had the right plays called, we just need to execute better.” Or, when asked why he throws the ball so often to particular receivers, “He makes plays.”

Part of this is his “fuck-the-media” persona, but part of it is pure honesty. He could go a lot more in depth, sure, but sometimes it just comes down to who makes the plays that are there to be made and who doesn’t.

In too many cases, as Eric Reid’s missed INT is a perfect example of, the 49ers did not take advantage of their opportunities to make plays.

[Though it’s not as if the Seahawks took advantage of every opportunity either; Earl Thomas came up similarly short on Kaepernick’s touchdown pass to Anquan Boldin later in the game. But as I remarked (and I quote myself again), after the Seahawks Week 13 win over the Saints which all but guaranteed them home-field advantage in the NFC, “It gives them the best chance of any team in football to gain entrance to the Super Bowl, because they now have the luxury of not playing their best football and still winning two straight playoff games, because there is a very real possibility, an almost unavoidable certainty, that whoever they play will not be playing their best ball either. It’s going to take a team’s very best performance, mixed with a down game from the Seahawks to come away with a road win in Seattle.”]

The Seahawks, in Seattle, can afford to miss a couple opportunities and still survive. Visiting teams, even of the 49ers caliber, cannot.

But I digress (for now). Let’s move on.

The first real big fuck up the 49ers made, the play that almost tangibly changed the character and momentum of the game, came with about 8:00 left in the 2^nd Quarter. Our defense had been stifling up until this point. Then, on 2^nd and 7, Donte Whitner failed to execute a very, very simple assignment.

Whitner, in an undisguised Cover-2 look, decided to take a nap and let Doug Baldwin get behind him for a 51 yard pass play.

How in the world did this happen? Well it begins with the elusiveness of Russell Wilson. I will give credit where credit is due, and when a QB buys eight seconds of time before throwing a pass, credit is certainly due.

HOWEVER, even with the eight seconds Russell Wilson bought him, Doug Baldwin should never have gotten open on this play.

Here we see Whitner in great coverage. Good job Donte.

Hey Donte, pay attention to the receiver in your zone. Donte…Donte! Don’t look at Russell Wilson, you have five guys chasing him around, pay attention to Baldwin. Please, Donte, please remember the very first lesson of playing safety—you have to be deeper than the deepest man. Quit being a flat-footed spectator and cover Donte. GOD DAMNIT DONTE. (I had time to think all of this in real-time as Russell Wilson ran around to find an open man.)

 God damnit Donte…

God. Damnit. Donte.

Let’s take a look at what Donte was so worried about in the backfield that he lost his fucking mind and forgot how to play his position.

Here is Wilson working his Wilson magic. He’s being hurried, but is not yet under duress. This is due to the strategic pass rush the 49ers employed on this play, each defender maintaining contain on the sneaky bastard. Like a special teams coverage unit, the pass rushers are maintaining “lane integrity” for lack of a better term. Wilson buys time to throw, but is not being allowed to break contain of the defensive line. This is wonderfully executed football right here.

In the roughly two seconds that have passed notice how disciplined the pass rush is on Wilson. Ray McDonald (center-right of the screenshot, covering the “&” sign of the down and distance graphic) actually stops pursuing Wilson to drop into a potential rushing lane. Bowman hangs back to cover the sideline escape, and Demarcus Dobbs (top right corner) has outside contain to Wilson’s left. Brooks and Dorsey are both pressuring. Ideally, Dorsey should rush towards Wilson’s left shoulder and force him up the field and further into the collapsing pocket, but I’m going to give the big man a break. He’s 300+ lbs. and has been hustling his ass off for 6 seconds. The end result of this play is not on Glenn Dorsey. 

Point being…What the fuck was Whitner watching? All of his teammates executing their assignments to perfection? Was he in such awe of the wonderful football being played in front of him by his ten teammates that he figured he might as well take a gander and bask in the glory of it all? I mean, if 10 guys do their job, certainly the 11^th is entitled to sit back and enjoy it right?

Or is he so enamored with Russel Wilson's scrambling ability that he's convinced two all-pro linebackers and a troop of other defenders are incapable of bringing him down, and he's going to have to come in and clean up the mess? I don't know which one it is, but neither is acceptable.

I'm confused Donte, so god damn confused. 

God damnit Donte.

So the defense buckles down and holds the Seahawks to a field goal. It could have been worse.

And it got worse, right after half it got worse.

This time we can lay a good amount of the blame on the other safety Eric Reid, though on this particular play—a 40 yard touchdown run by Marshawn Lynch—the defense as a whole executes decidedly worse, and the offense decidedly better.

In this first screenshot we see the initial movement off the snap. The Seahawks offensive line down-blocks to the right side of the formation, while Zach Miller (on the left) seals off Aldon Smith on the edge. The movement of the offensive line to the right (the defense’s left) causes NaVorro Bowman to misread the play (as you can see his first step is hard onto his left foot).

The cornerbacks are doing their jobs, simply maintaining the edge. They are responsible for pushing Marshawn back towards the center of the field, where—hypothetically—the best inside linebacker duo in the game, along with Justin Smith, Glenn Dorsey and Ray McDonald will be waiting to make a tackle. In essence, they are out of the initial moments of the play. In this second screenshot we also see Ahmad Brooks rush up the field, essentially taking him out of the play, while Justin Smith is double-teamed (and held) by two Seahawks interior lineman. Because Bowman’s first step was to his left, he is easily blocked by a Seahawks lineman advancing to the second level of our defense. Willis, on the weak side, gets caught up in the wash and is unable to make a play on Lynch. Basically, Seattle blocks this play up to perfection, and with one misstep by Bowman you get this:

A hole big enough to drive a truck through. Notice the perfect seal block by Miller on Smith on the left side of the screen, plus Jermaine Kearse and backup tackle Alvin Bailey running free into the second level to block for Lynch. 

Sometimes these things happen. Did Bowman make a mistake? Yes, but it shouldn’t be a killer mistake. At this point in the play I’d say Seattle simply executed to perfection, and it’s hard to knock the 49ers defense for misplaying it. Good play call, great execution. Where things really go wrong is on Eric Reid’s tackle attempt. The play was blocked for 10 yards and it should have netted 10 yards. Instead, Reid, a usually aggressive tackler, comes up hesitant in run support, gets flat footed waiting for Lynch to arrive to him and gets the Beast Mode treatment, giving up another 30 yards and a touchdown. No good.

This weak ass attempt at a strip instead of a touchdown saving tackle just adds insult to injury.

Let’s continue on with the depressing trip down memory lane. I don’t even need to break this next play down it’s so bad, but I’m going to. This decision and throw by Kaepernick is poorer than the resolution of the screenshot I got to show it.

Boldin came across the formation in motion and runs an intermediate route to the sideline. Kaepernick had just completed a play fake to Kendall Hunter and lets the ball go about 3 or 4 seconds after it is snapped.

The result is a Kam Chancellor interception. He had dropped into his flat zone underneath Boldin, as the Seahawks were running their familiar and much ballyhooed Cover-3. With no route designed to go into Chancellor’s zone (which Kaepernick should know because, y’know, he called the damn play), Chancellor is able to peek into the backfield, read Kaep's eyes and drift into position for a very, very easy interception. This is an elementary read of the defense, and the ball should have been dumped off to Kendall Hunter immediately for a decent, or maybe longer, gain on first down. Bad Kaep. Bad.

Here is a quick breakdown of the Cover-3, as explained by a MS Paint diagram of my own devising. If you’ve ever played Madden, you are more than familiar with the Cover-3; and if you know anything at all about playing offense in Madden, you know not to throw lollipops to intermediate routes on the sideline against it (this isn’t fucking rocket science). Or, you do throw lollipops to the sideline and the stupid A.I. watches the ball go over his head before reacting, because the QB that threw the ball is Peyton Manning, and Peyton Manning is infallible (in video games).

Pre-snap alignment, with their eventual movement outlined by the arrows. Figure it out kids.

Once they reach their zones, the defense looks something like this. The soft spots are to throw seam routes between the deep CB and FS (though this is very difficult when the free safety is lightning fast ballhawk Earl Thomas), an early back-shoulder throw down the sideline while the CB is still retreating (which the Niners used fairly effectively) and the dump off over the middle to an outlet (which is where Kendall Hunter is open on this play and where Kaep should have, but inevitably didn’t throw the ball).

This was a big turnover for very obvious reasons. It was one that could have been very easily avoided. I am not accusing him of it myself, but when Trent Dilfer and other analysts refer to Kaepernick’s reading of defenses as “remedial,” this is the kind of shit they’re referring to.

And finally we have the big play, the granddaddy of them all, and some more criticism of Colin Kaepernick.

There’s some debate over whether he should even throw this pass at all, given the down and distance and time on the clock on timeouts remaining. Why take a shot to the endzone at this juncture?

I’ll answer with—because the Niners have a mediocre redzone offense, and the Seahawks defense is anything but mediocre. The Niners got a very strong pre-snap look to score the needed touchdown, and Kaepernick took it. It was also a well-designed and well-timed play call. After plenty of contemplation about it, I have no issues with the decision to go for the endzone here.

I also have very little issue with the in-play decision to actually let the ball loose. Kaep had his boy singled up and he went for the dagger. I like that confidence, and I like the decision.

I did not like Kaepernick's execution of the play at all, and this has very little to do with the throw itself.

Here is the pre-snap look. Unlike in their typical base defense, Kam Chancellor is lined up parallel with Earl Thomas, each taking a hash, showing a Cover-2 look with the safeties. However, due to Sherman’s stance, showing press, Kaepernick correctly diagnoses this as a Cover-1 or Cover-3 (or a variation on a Cover-3), which, this being the Seahawks, of course it is.

Sherman is playing press coverage, but is also “responsible” for the deep third of the field behind him. Because there are no receivers lined up on his side of the field, the only person that could potentially get behind him is Crabtree, so he is in man-to-man coverage almost by default.

Sherman actually does have some semblance of safety help, as Thomas drops into a “robber” position, taking away the intermediate middle of the field and reading Kaepernick’s eyes. Should a deep crossing route come from the 49ers’ left side of the formation, it would be Thomas’ responsibility to pick up the crosser.

The Seahawks are basically doing the logical thing, loading up the middle of the field to take away Davis and Boldin, while also dropping back to the endzone to take away any chance at a quick-strike touchdown to the strong side of the formation. They give the Niners two things—single coverage on Crabs, and an easy pocket to Quinton Patton.

Pre-snap Kaepernick can’t exactly know that the easy pocket to Patton will be available. If it is Cover-1, Patton would also essentially be manned up. But the second Kaep snaps the ball an easy read on the safeties would allow Kaep to diagnose the coverage post-snap (hypothetically). Obviously all of this is happening almost instantaneously so it's hard to criticize and judge, but this is why they spend all week watching film and sitting in meeting rooms, and why he will eventually ask to be paid one hundred million dollars. 

Regardless, it actually doesn’t matter whether the Seahawks are playing a Cover-1 or Cover-3 in this instance. Once Kaep knows it’s one of those two options his mind is made up to throw the ball to Crabtree, and rightfully so. This play is designed to attack the single coverage the Niners were expecting to get from Sherman. So Kaep made the correct pre-snap read.

Let’s take a moment to diagram out what is going on here.

This is a pre-snap look at the defensive alignment and what the defense is designed to do when the ball is snapped.

This is, hypothetically, the coverage the Seahawks are trying to achieve. Everything is locked down besides the ball over the top of Sherman (a throw they are confident he will defend) or a quick throw to Patton (which will eat up precious seconds and likely require a timeout to stop the clock). It’s very simple, effective play calling.

These are the routes as run by the Niners. They were prepared for the coverage the Seahawks were calling and had a play called to attack the weaknesses of that coverage. Both teams got what they wanted both pre- and post-snap. This is the beauty of divisional football, and the two best teams playing one another several times a year. It came down to who was going to execute and make the best play. No gimmicks, just ball.

This is how the defense moves with the routes. The yellow area is the vacant area in the zone coverage, as Sherman is singled up on Crabtree.

The ball is snapped and you can see by the angle of his head that Kaepernick’s eyes immediately begin at the safeties. When he see Thomas stay home, in just that split second, he knows his pre-snap read was correct, and he loads the gun for his shot to Crabtree.

This is where Kaepernick makes his first, and most drastic mistake. The play called, it seems to me, is designed for a play-fake to the far side of the field; a fake quick screen to Patton. Davis chips defensive end Chris Clemons and Boldin runs a clearance route, taking defenders deep away from Patton. The play is not designed to be thrown to the left, but it is designed to appear the it could be and freeze the defense to that side of the field.

Kaepernick should carry out his fake to Patton, which would freeze Malcolm Smith, the weakside linebacker (on Crabtree’s side of the field). A pump-fake to Patton would (most likely) freeze Smith, or cause him to step towards that side, and in doing so would (in theory) take him out of the play when the ball is thrown deep over his head. You can see in the screenshot above that even as Crabtree is barely advancing beyond the line of scrimmage, Kaepernick has locked his vision on him, and Malcom Smith has already flipped his hips towards that side of the field, preparing to track down the pass. A look to the left mitigates that all-important flip-of-the-hips.

As we all know by watching NaVorro Bowman return an interception 89 yards for a TD against the Falcons, linebackers instinctually flow to the ball. Smith has his eyes on Kaepernick from the get-go, as he correctly diagnoses off the bat that there are no receivers coming on underneath routes to his side of the field, which he would be responsible for.

Because Kaepernick never executes the play fake, Smith is free to read his eyes the entire play and then sprint to the ball, allowing him to make an easy interception in the endzone when Sherman bats it down.

Because Kaepernick knew he wanted to throw the ball to Crabtree before the snap even happened, he simultaneously made the (conscious or unconscious) decision to abort the play-fake, probably because keeping his eyes on Crabtree throughout his route would, in theory, give him a better chance to make an accurate throw.

So when he didn’t make a thread-the-needle, perfect throw to Crabtree and Sherman did this…

Malcom Smith was here (yellow), not here (red box), or over there (red arrow).

And our season ended. It came down to one play and one play that represented this game as a whole very well; one play both teams called excellent plays for, and one play that the Seahawks executed better than we did.

__________________________________________________

But I’m not going to end my season writing about the 49ers on as sour of a note as the actual season ended on. I want to go back to two very, very positive plays and show you why I still have the utmost faith in this team, and in Colin Kaepernick.

OK, we all remember Kaepernick’s touchdown pass to Boldin. It was probably the coolest play in the game (outside that whole interception to win it thing).

This is Kaepernick in a nutshell. He has an outlet to his right, but the play isn’t going to net much, and Colin Kaepernick isn’t Alex Smith, so dumping it down is tantamount to torture as far as he's concerned. He steps up with authority…

Digs his foot in the ground to sink the defense towards him, and then…

JUMP THROWS THE FOOTBALL TO THE BACK OF THE ENDZONE (HE IS OFF THE GROUND), THROWING INTO THE COVERAGE OF THE BEST SAFETY IN THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE…

And it is an absolute laser for a touchdown.

AN ABSOLUTE LASER

How many guys in the NFL have the athleticism and arm strength to make that throw...and have the balls to do it? I think we’re basically looking at Aaron Rodgers, Andrew Luck and Cam Newton. If you wanted to be really generous I guess Ryan Tannehill and Mike Vick have an outside chance. But no, no they don't. Not against the Seahawks and not in a conference championship game. Kaep is special.

And not only is Kaep a physical specimen that has talent up the yang—the guy is a football player. You can criticize Kaep for his execution at times, for not following through on the X's & O’s, but you can’t say the guy isn’t clutch. Kaep is clutch, and he’s going to come out a Super Bowl winner soon enough. I feel it.

People forget how the final drive started. 4^th and 2, two minutes left…

Kaep is pressured to his left and pursued by four Seahawks defenders. A fifth blocks his path to a first down. He loads up and fires across his body…

TO MY BOY ST. FRANKY GORE. WHO MAKES THE CATCH WITH A BROKEN  FINGER THAT REQUIRED SURGERY AFTER THE GAME!

These are my Niners. And we are going to win a championship.

Fine, I Guess I'll Acknowledge Super Bowl XLVIII

from blog.johnnyvy.com

So...close...again

So I guess the football season isn't actually over yet. I hear the Denver Broncos and Seattle Seahawks are playing in Super Bowl 48 or something tomorrow. Whatever. I guess I'll do my pick. Sigh...

DENVER (-2) over Seattle

Denver is technically the home team so they get the capslock treatment this weekend. I'm picking them because I want them to win, and because I don't have the energy, motivation or desire to attempt a full-fledged analysis of this game. I hate the Seahawks. I hate Pete Carroll, I hate Russell Wilson, I hate Bobby Wagner, I hate Earl Thomas, I hate Russell Okung and Breno Giacomini, I hate Cliff Avril, I hate Brandon Mebane, I hate Kam Chancellor. I hate that I can't hate Marshawn Lynch. I really, really hate Richard Sherman. Fuck that guy. Fuck him. 

This is how I envision this game going:

The Seahawks win the toss and elect to defer (being confident assholes and daring Peyton Manning to take the ball first and score on them). Peyton proceeds to throw a pick-6 to Richard Sherman after a 1st and 10 run up the middle for 2 yards. Sherman sniffs out the quick screen to Demaryius Thomas from a bunch formation and just takes it to the house.

The crowd goes wild. Pete Carroll is jumping up and down on the sideline like a giddy schoolgirl that just caught a peek of Justin Bieber's happy trail and Richard Sherman has his Busta Rhymes face on (fig. 1). He then turns to Peyton Manning and makes his choking sign (fig. 2).

from nextimpulsesports.com

Fig. 1

from larrybrownsports.com

Fig. 2

Peyton Manning just goes eye-of-the-fucking-tiger after this. I'm talking Popeye after some spinach transformation. He was just disrespected by a young, brash, loud-mouthed ass. He can hear all the talk already, "Peyton isn't a big game QB...He can't handle the cold weather..." 

He walks to the sideline, doesn't even take his helmet off, doesn't say a word to anyone. Just stares at Richard Sherman and the raucous Seahawks sideline, thinking I am Peyton motherfucking Manning.

He then proceeds to just unleash a torrent of well-timed passes and masterful run-checks at the line of scrimmage upon the Seahawks. They have no answer. He tosses five touchdowns en route to seven straight scoring drives. 

Marshawn Lynch can't get past the behemoth duo of an angry Terrance Knighton and Sylvester Williams. The game is on Russell Wilson's shoulders and he plays admirably, but just can't even hold a candle to Peyton. His receivers drop passes on third down and as the game gets further out of reach the offense stalls more and more frequently. 

They only score the single defensive touchdown on the opening possession, a TD that only yields 6 points because the Broncos block the Rodger-Goodell-thinks-they're-so-easy-they-should-be-abolished-PAT and Steven Hauschka is injured on the play, leaving the Seahawks in the cold without a kicker and without a hope in hell of winning this, or any other Super Bowl. 

SCORE, BRONCOS 45 - SEAHAWKS 6. 

... Three weeks later 42 of 53 players on the Seahawks roster test positive for PEDs and Roger Goodell nullifies the Super Bowl on grounds of cheating. Pete Carroll is fired for encouraging players to take steroids, HGH, adderall and medicinal marijuana. The 49ers are awarded the NFCs berth in the Super Bowl replay and just annihilate the Broncos because Peyton Manning finally took a rest from his absurd football preparations, thinking he just firmly cemented his legacy with a second Super Bowl win. Niners 100, Broncos 0. #QuestForSix.

Love the 49ers the Right Way: A Word on the Art of Excuse-Making

I was going to do a little postgame analysis; work through some specific key plays and key coaching decision in the 49ers-Seahawks game (nothing is forthcoming on the Pat-Broncos game, Broncos dominated, the end.) I will do that soon, because there was a lot of great plays in this game, a lot of plays that could be considered turning points. A lot of things to look at and appreciate and mistakes to look at and learn from. I’m not going to do that yet though, because I have a rant that’s been building up inside me and grew to a fever pitch this morning.

I really, really, really do.

You know what bothers me the most about this game? The excuses made by 49ers fans that I see on every corner of the internet. Could a few things have gone our way that didn’t? Certainly. I was even apt to say after last year’s Super Bowl loss that the referees had as much to do with it as the Ravens. But then again we (probably) benefited from a power outage and subsequent delay. It’s football, shit happens.

This game though doesn’t even compare, doesn’t even come close by any stretch of the imagination, to the sort of unlucky nonsense the 49ers went through in last year’s Super Bowl. Bruce Miller wasn’t held so badly his feet came off the ground while he was being, quite literally, carried by his shoulder pads as Jacoby Jones raced by him for a second-half opening touchdown.

That running-into-the-kicker/roughing-the-kicker call is hardly some instance of horrid officiating. When I watched it live I thought it was of the five yard variety as well. Maybe by textbook definition of the rule, due to where the defender hit Andy Lee, it should have been enforced as roughing the kicker, but there was no malicious intent—the sort of operative definition of a “personal foul.”

But this isn’t even really relevant to what I’m actually talking about. I would be less inclined to speak out against people who wear the same color jersey as I do on gamedays if their ire was directed towards officiating (which, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough).

No, I’m bothered—sincerely bothered—by the amount of “hypothesis excuses” (as I’m going to term them) I’m seeing 49ers fans throw around. As you all know from elementary science a hypothesis is an “if, then” statement; the beginning step of the scientific method. For example, if I lower the temperature of water to 32 degrees Fahrenheit, then it will turn into solid ice. You test your hypothesis and it either confirms or denies it the veracity of the statement. Good lesson class.

Every status, every comment, every forum post seems to be dedicated to some sort of alternate reality version of the game that didn’t happen, “but could have, if only _____, then _____” (usually the latter blank is some variation of “the 49ers win”).

Here’s my hypothesis: If football was played like this, then everyone would be the Super Bowl Champion.

The other steps of the scientific method are observation and experimentation. In our extended metaphor we’re going to say that the experimentation part is when the game is actually played, and the observation part is when we watch it.

What about that game can make anyone think anything otherwise than the Seahawks should have won? The experiment was played out, in front of our very eyes in the form of a professional football game—we observed it—and a pretty conclusive statement was made. Players commonly refer to this as “looking at the scoreboard.”

But, but but. But if Kaepernick throws that last past two inches higher and Crabtree catches it then the 49ers win. But if Richard Sherman’s arms were slightly shorter then Crabtree catches it and we win the game. But if the game was played at Candlestick and not Century Link, then the 49ers would have won the game. But if we had Calvin Johnson on our team, then the 49ers would have won the game.

I mean, where does it end?

What is the point of watching football, what is the point of playing the games, if we’re just going to try to deny the results?

Sometimes it’s acceptable. The Ahmad Brooks-Drew Brees fiasco is an acceptable source of anger and “what if.” But only because the rule in place that allowed for that flag to be thrown is subjective and left to the whims of a referee, and in this instance especially so because that foul is clearly not called in a consistent manner whatsoever. The NFL has to answer to that. At the same time, the 49ers did not have some dominating performance stolen from them and handed to the Saints through that call alone. That game was close mostly because Colin Kaepernick’s would-be pick-6 was dropped as cornerback was diving into the endzone.

It is not acceptable, however, when you’re denying the results that are the clear and conclusive evidence of play on the football field, unmarred by any sort of subjectivity or circumstance.

The refs in no way affected the game ending interception. They did not affect any of the 49ers’ three turnovers. They did mishandle the fumble that should have rightly been awarded to the 49ers at the one-yard line during Bowman’s terrifying knee injury, but the fact is that we actually benefited from that missed call in a roundabout sort of way. Instead of being backed up against our own endzone we were gifted ten to fifteen extra yards of field position on the ensuing play. It was karmic justice certainly, but once again you can’t really go crying about officiating.

So that honestly leaves one possible outcome; that—god forbid a 49ers fan utter the words—the Seahawks deserved to win that game. The play on the field showed that, and showed it about as clearly and brightly as it can be shown.

Do I mean that the Seahawks were clearly and brightly the better team? No, those teams are as evenly matched as they come. They’re both grade-A teams. The Seahawks simply played and executed better yesterday, and thus they were the better team yesterday (as they have been in two of the three meetings between us), and so they deserve to be in the Super Bowl. It would take an actual insane person to legitimately believe anything otherwise.

But I guess that’s the beauty of sports, one of the cosmic draws to the adrenaline of the game and the pure loyalty of fandom—that very intelligent well-informed people can lose their shit for a moment, and do so in a socially acceptable way.

But the game’s over, we lost, and there’s no “iffing” our way out of it. The moment is over, so go ahead and return to reality please.

We have four draft picks in the first three rounds of the 2014 NFL Draft, maybe five if given a compensatory third-round selection for the loss of DaShon Goldson. We have two first-round talents joining the team from IR in addition to our draft haul (Lattimore and Carradine). We are going to be awesome for a long time. Keep calm and love the 49ers.

Take a page out of the 49ers’ book. We win and we lose with class (the team that is). Maybe you can argue that Harbaugh doesn’t—I personally think he does—but the 53 men in that locker room aren’t making excuses. They aren’t playing the “if, then” game.

They’re acknowledging defeat and responsibility for their part in that defeat, and they are already working at getting better. Because that’s their job, because it means more to them than we can possibly even imagine. So we should also acknowledge their defeat and their part in it, and also acknowledge their success and their part in it. Football isn’t over when the last whistle of the season blows; not for them and not for us.

Fans aren’t doing themselves or their favorite team any favors by writing off losses as aberrations, or “bullshit,” by discounting them through some sort of mental gymnastics particular to sports fans.

Because doing so disrespects the game. If we don’t respect the results on the field, then what’s the point of playing the games? We’d like to think we have more power than we do to decide who the winner and the loser of these games are. That through words and loyalty we can actually affect who is the better team. “Oh we may have lost that game, but we are better, and we deserve to be in the Super Bowl.” No, we aren’t. No, we don’t.

Look, writing isn't my "job" because I'm not paid to do it, but I love writing and I take great pride in it, in a way I'd like to think the 49ers players take pride in their jobs. If I post a lousy article filled with typos I would want to address it correctly, not make the excuse that if my fingers were positioned merely one inch to the left "gppyns;;" would have been "football." And I wouldn't want credit where credit isn't due. If someone writes better articles than I do, like Bill Simmons, you should read them and I should try to write better articles.

And as much as I’m sure it crushed the 49ers players to have lost, I don’t think they would want to be “explained” into the Super Bowl. Because the game is played on the field, and it was a game they lost, and they’re not going to make excuses for it, they haven’t been making excuses for it. We as fans, as writers, as observers of the game, need to respect the result, because it’s the right thing to do.

The players put their entire lives into games like this so that the results on the field matter. So let them matter.