The Way of It, Part Two: A Series of Fictitious Conversations Demonstrating the Evolution of Football Strategy

San Francisco, 1979.

Across the bay from Oakland, two men watch from the sidelines as players in red-and-gold practice uniforms charge around the field. 

"You want the coaching job?” Eddie DeBartolo demands. “Sure you do.”

“I do,” Bill Walsh agrees.

"You know I inherited a mess from the old owner. My 49ers are the joke of the NFL,” says DeBartolo. His thick, heavy brows descend over his eyes. “You know why?”

There is a pause. Walsh watches the linemen re-enact blocking formations again and again. Their efforts are audible from the sidelines.  “It’s not a lack of effort,” he says.  “Or a lack of ability.”

“Yeah, not for the players, but I need a coach with the ability to spot match-ups. Madden’s strategy just won the Super Bowl for the second time. Now he is an announcer for crying out loud.” DeBartolo’s frustration is obvious as he runs his hand across his dark hair, which immediately springs back up again. “Match-ups! It’s all the rage now. We stink at finding match-ups. Whaddaya got, Walsh?"

Bill Walsh’s hair is as white as DeBartolo’s is dark. "The way I see it," Walsh replies, "The real match-up is between me and the other coach. I’ll keep track of what the other coaches do in different situations. Based on his tendencies from past games I can predict his moves in his game against me. Then can I design plays that take advantage of the most frequent tendencies of the opposing coach in those situations."

A wide receiver leaps up in an attempt to snatch the ball out of the air but he has mistimed his jump and the football sails between his hands.

"Convince me,” says Bartolo.

“We’ll need to hire some people to work on keeping track of every play that other coaches run in different situations. For example, I’ve noticed that coaches tend to revert to the same plays over and over again when they’re close to scoring. If you know what they tend to do, you can run a defensive play that will take advantage of whatever they usually do in that situation. the individual match-ups won’t matter as much because you’re concentrating on the bigger picture, you see?”

Eddie DeBartolo is beginning to look convinced. “You’d need to sort through a lot of situations to make that work, though.”

“Oh, yeah. First down on the twenty-yard line; first down on the goal line; second down and short to go on the goal line; second down and long to go.” But Walsh is far from discouraged. He watches the 49ers players but his mind is absorbed by his idea for how to give them an overall advantage. “We’ll keep track of other coaches’ tendencies in all the situations we can think of. Then I’ll divide the areas of the football field into zones, because their location on the field affects their decisions too. For example, what I call the 'Red Zone' is the twenty yards closest to the goal line. We compile the data across the NFL as a continuous trend and give more weight to recent games.”

“That… is going to take… forever.” DeBartolo shakes his head. “Just how the hell are we going to keep track of all those numbers in all those situations for all those zones, and for all the different teams?”

“Computers!” Walsh replies happily. “Those new gadgets can track all that stuff for us. With that information, I can beat anybody."

"Okay, you’ve got the job. So what kind of quarterback do you want? You want someone who can throw deep? I can get you somebody who can throw deep."

Walsh shakes his head. "No. I want someone who will follow my statistical advice. There’s a kid named Joe Montana who suits my plan…"

******

“The Way of It” sets up the evolution of thought in football. For a long time it was a game of systems or formation, which Madden called a ‘gimmick’ and which he claimed was only the surface of the real, ‘deeper’ game. Thus Madden came up with a new strategy, creating a game of individual match-ups. 

Walsh came along and expanded the picture to include overall tendencies of different teams, so instead of simply looking at this player-by-player and game-by-game, he viewed the statistics as ongoing trends and made plays accordingly. No one else had begun to think like Walsh yet, however, so his 49ers had a huge advantage in the NFL. For a while, it was as if he had caught a glimpse of another dimension that other teams could not see.

According to our fictitious Walsh, Joe Montana suited his plans because Walsh wanted to run what he called "percentage plays." These are plays that have the highest chance of gaining five yards or more with the least risk. Walsh did not need to risk everything on a forty-yard pass if five yards was a sure thing according to the statistics. He needed someone willing to be patient. At the time, most quarterbacks were not patient enough for that (and many still aren't) because there was (and still is) a long-standing snobbery in the NFL about what a quarterback "should" do. This mindset dictates that a brainy, talented quarterback should stand out by throwing long passes.

Walsh did not need or want that for his new iteration of the 49ers. He needed somebody who did not want to be a flashy quarterback as much as he wanted to win games. Joe Montana was happy to complete a lot of short passes and his patience was rewarded with the Super Bowl.

Next we will have a "conversation" with Pete Carroll and see how the Seahawks come into this discussion.

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"The Way of It" is a collaborative effort between Ada Fetters and Michael Howard.

The Way of It, Part One: A Series of Fictitious Conversations Demonstrating the Evolution of Football Strategy

Oakland, 1969. 

Two men sit opposite one another in a West Coast burger joint not far from the ocean. The first is a small, well-tanned man whose shock of black hair is slicked back with oil. California sunlight flashes off his silver-rimmed sunglasses. When he takes them off there are wrinkles under his eyes.

The second man has the look of an ex-football-player who still eats as if he was playing. The tone of their well-worn jokes lets any observer know that they are old friends.

The smaller man, Al Davis, gets down to business. "I’m getting too old to handle being coach and team owner. But the real thing is, the coaching game is starting to get away from me. John, I asked you here because I want you to coach the Raiders for me." 

John Madden shakes his head in disbelief. "I just don't get what you mean about the game getting away from you. The Raiders are doing good. You’ve got tough guys that play hard. You’ve got a winning record. Dunno what’s the matter with that, Al."

"The way I coach the game is getting old fast. New ideas are taking over. My idea of attracting renegades and rejects and playing tough football isn't enough anymore.  Have you seen what Miami is doing with that new defense?"

"Okay, yeah,” Madden agrees reluctantly. “They’re doing good with the new zone defense."

"They’re doing good now. They’re set up to do even better. I need to find a coach who can come up with something new before we slump. A new formation would be good." Davis tosses his sunglasses on the table and gives a little shrug. "That’s why I needed to talk to you, John. Whatever the Raiders need to do, it’s beyond me."

"Naw, I don't have anything for you there. Besides, a new fad isn’t really what you want. At the end of the day these new formations are just indirect ways to use strengths and hide weaknesses. What you really want is to beat ‘em to the punch. You want to figure a way to use your strengths and exploit opponent's weaknesses."

Davis makes his reply, trying not to let his disappointment show in his voice. He tries to recall the next guy in line for the Raiders head coaching job.

Madden does not hear it. He has warmed to his subject. "See, what nobody knows is that football isn’t really about these big schemes and the latest fad formation. Those are just tools to indirectly get to the good stuff. I am going straight to the good stuff!"

"Um.”

"Sure!” Madden, always enthusiastic, becomes boisterous. “I figured this out a few years ago when I was playing defensive tackle. We were winning but the guy I was playing against got the better of me on every play. Our team kept scoring but that guy would win our personal battle. BOOM, he knocked me down. Next play, WHAP, down I went.” The silverware on the table rattles as Madden’s meaty hands strike the surface. “But you know what? None of those plays took advantage of him being better than I was, so it didn't matter."

 “So you weren't a good lineman. Terrific."

Madden laughs the way he always does when his friend barks at him. "Maybe! But I also realized that coaches don't know what they are doing. They are approaching football like a philosophy class, as if their system is the end product. I thought about it a lot. Here’s what I came up with. Football is a game of match-ups! One guy against another guy! A coach who knows how to take advantage of that simple fact would win the game. The trick is to isolate the players and focus the outcome of a game on a favorable match-up. I’d like to bypass the gimmicks and concentrate on finding and working the match-ups."

Madden’s enthusiasm is infectious. Davis begins to smile. "I get it. You look for mismatches and play them for all they’re worth."

"Yeah! For an upcoming game I’d look for my guy who can BOOM the other guy, then I’d design plays to make sure that the outcome of the game hinges on that match-up. As long as I had even one guy on my team who could beat his opposing player, I could win by using formations, concepts and schemes to focus the game on that one weak spot. Theoretically, every game could be won."

By this time Madden has won Davis over. Davis extends his well-tanned arm across the table and shakes hands with his friend. "Just win, baby!"

"That's it. Just win!"

******

Per our fictitious Madden's observation, there was a deeply entrenched philosophical mindset prevalent in football at the time. It took a long time for other coaches to catch on to his match-up strategy. Once they knew what he was doing, the effect might be mitigated because a coach could swap out a mismatched guy for someone who was good in a different way, or try to switch their own strategy. If that coach knew the Madden-style team would go for the mismatched guy and commit to that, that coach could use it to his advantage.

E.g. you have a weak cornerback against a great receiver and you know they other team will commit to that mismatched pass. Thus you’d go for an all-out blitz. Make sure that the other team’s quarterback, who really wants the time to set up a pass that is statistically a sure thing, gets knocked into the ground before he can take advantage of the mismatch.

However, at the time no one else had begun to consider this, so Madden’s strategy dominated the NFL.

Madden's drafting style also reflected his new strategy. He looked at college players and rated them on weakness and strength. That was what counted in the mismatch system. He went for the highest-rated guy, figuring he could trade the guy later if he needed a position filled. He was not looking for people who could 'fit' each other or 'fit' a system. They were basically interchangeable parts.

That might sound mechanical but it is practical and not only that, it won the Superbowl.

This also goes a long way toward explaining the "Madden Football" games. John Madden could give players a numerical rating and so it was relatively easy to translate that into zeros and ones for a video game.

Thus we begin our “The Way of It” series with the shift to match-ups. Next in the series will be a similar “conversation” with Bill Walsh.

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"The Way of It" is a collaborative effort between Ada Fetters and Michael Howard.