The Case for Hawaii

It didn’t take long.

After Georgia did pretty much whatever it wanted in a 41-10 win over Hawaii on Tuesday night, you just knew that people were going to start saying that Hawaii didn’t deserve to be in a BCS game. I haven’t seen entire columns dedicated to the subject yet, although I’m sure they’re coming. But we’re already seeing little comments sprinkled in here & there, such as in this Boston Globe piece: 

After their win over Illinois, which like Hawaii was not worthy of a BCS bowl, the Trojans were feeling confident.

And of course there’s the usual sniper shots aimed at Hawaii coming from the blog & message board world. That’s no surprise. Unfortunately, those who share this sentiment have fallen victim to the greatest fallacy in college football: that “deserve” has anything to do with the BCS. The BCS isn’t about competition. It isn’t about matching up the best teams to produce the most entertaining games. It is about one thing and one thing only: money. No, this isn’t going to be one of those cynical, oh-noes-there’s-money-in-college-football sermons. We all know that college football is a business, and I don’t lament that. I’m just putting Hawaii’s Sugar Bowl bid in the right perspective.

The BCS is the result of an evolutionary process that began in 1990. Colorado and Georgia Tech shared the national championship that year, as the Buffaloes were #1 in the AP Poll while Tech sat atop the Coaches’ Poll. The situation repeated itself the following year, as Washington and Miami each went undefeated and claimed a #1 spot in one of the two major polls. With two consecutive years of a split national championship, there was significant demand among college football fans for a way to determine a “true” national champion and end the phenomenon of split titles. Where there’s demand, there’s a business opportunity. The ACC, Big East, SEC, SWC, and Big 8 conferences, along with Notre Dame and 6 bowl games, looked to capitalize on that opportunity by forming the Bowl Coalition. The basic premise of the Bowl Coalition was that creating a #1 vs. #2 matchup in the Cotton, Orange, Fiesta, or Sugar Bowls would be a cash bonanza, as demand for the game would drive television money through the roof. (The Rose Bowl, along with the Pac 10 and Big 10, chose not to be involved and instead elected to maintain their traditional affiliations). The way the Bowl Coalition worked was that three conferences– the SEC, SWC, and Big 8– would maintain their traditional bowl tie-ins, sending their respective champions to the Sugar, Cotton, and Orange Bowls. If the champion of one of those three conferences was ranked in #1 or #2, their affiliated bowl would host the championship game. If both #1 and #2 were out of the SEC, SWC, or Big 8, then the team ranked #1 would play in their conference’s affiliated bowl, and the #2 team would be released from their traditional game to play the #1 team. If neither #1 or #2 was from one of those three conferences, then the championship game would be played in the Fiesta Bowl. The remaining slots for Bowl Coalition games would be filled by the ACC champ, Big East Champ, runners-up from the five coalition conferences, and Notre Dame. The third-place team from the SEC would go to the Gator Bowl.

The Bowl Coalition lasted for 3 years, ending in 1994. In its place came the Bowl Alliance. The premise of the Bowl Alliance was the same, but the rules were adjusted from those of the Bowl Coalition. The major rules changes were that the traditional affiliations between conference champions and bowl games were dissolved, the Gator and John Hancock (Sun) Bowls were no longer affiliated (leaving only the Cotton, Orange, and Sugar Bowls), and two at-large bids were available to teams that met certain eligibility requirements. The at-large bids were possible because of the demise of the Southwest Conference, and because Notre Dame was no longer guaranteed a spot (thanks to a 6-4-1 season in 1994). The Rose Bowl, Big 10 and Pac 10 were still not involved. The Bowl Alliance could not produce a consensus national champion in 1997 thanks to Michigan’s undefeated season and subsequent Rose Bowl berth, which precluded a matchup with the country’s other undefeated team that year, Nebraska. Both teams won their bowl games and shared the national championship, with Michigan atop the AP Poll and Nebraska taking the Coaches’ Poll. It became obvious that without the inclusion of the Big 10 and Pac 10, the legitimacy of the Bowl Alliance “championship game,” and by extension its television value, was in doubt. A solution needed to be reached in order to maintain the game’s appeal. The members of the Bowl Alliance made concessions to the Rose Bowl, allowing it to keep its own television contract and maintain its Pac 10-Big 10 matchup in years that neither conference’s champion is ranked #1 or #2. With that, the Rose Bowl, Pac 10, and Big 10 entered the fold, and the Bowl Championship Series was born.

The BCS consolidated the Orange, Sugar, and Fiesta Bowls into one television package. The BCS Championship Game was added to this package after that game’s creation. Combining these games meant that one television network would be able to control the broadcasting rights for all of the major bowl games– a very valuable proposition. The combined value of the BCS games was more than the sum of its parts, allowing these games to give payouts far greater than ever before. But the rules were such that even if there was a demand for a team outside of the BCS conferences, it was far more difficult for that team to qualify for a BCS game and get access to this money. Under the old rules, a non-BCS conference school had to finish in the top 6 of the BCS standings to get an automatic berth. That is a much higher ranking than several BCS conference champions have had. The revenue created by the BCS was distributed amongst conferences that make up roughly half of all Division I-A teams. That isn’t necessarily bad in itself; that’s just capitalism. But structuring the system to ensure that bowl money is consolidated among a privileged group regardless of their performance is unfair. The BCS was essentially a monopoly, tolerated under the guise that it was all for the sake of creating a national championship matchup.

One look at the BCS rules and it’s obvious that the system has little to do with finding a champion and everything to do with money. The rules only make sense if you understand that. If the BCS was just about finding a national champion, then there wouldn’t be a need for the standings to matter beyond the #1 and #2 teams. After the top two teams were selected for the championship game, the rest of the bowls would be able to pick whatever team they wanted regardless of BCS ranking. The BCS isn’t about setting up good games to watch, either; if that was the case, then you’d just take the top 10 in the BCS standings and have them play 1 vs. 2, 3 vs. 4, 5 vs. 6, etc. And why do you think that no conference is allowed to put more than 2 teams into the BCS? It’s so money is distrubited more or less evenly between BCS conferences, with no one conference hogging it all. If good football was the BCS’s motivation, then it would be no problem to have, say, 3 Big 12 teams in BCS games if they were the best teams available. For that matter, if the goal is to create the best matchups, then why even have automatic bids? Was Pitt one of the best teams available in 2004? They played in the Fiesta Bowl as Big East champions, but Navy actually finished ahead of them in both polls. How about a 4-loss Florida State team going to the Sugar Bowl as ACC champions in 2002 while Texas (10-2), Kansas State (10-2), and Notre Dame (10-2) were left out of the BCS? Or 1998, where 8-3 Syracuse won the Big East and got an Orange Bowl bid ahead of higher-ranked Arizona (11-1), Tulane (11-0), Air Force (11-1), Kansas State (11-1), and Georgia Tech (9-2)? Did they earn these BCS berths by virtue of their conference championship? Maybe, but that doesn’t mean that an 8-3 or 9-4 conference champ makes for a better game than undefeated Tulane or 11-1 Arizona. Pitt, Florida State, and Syracuse got those spots because the Big East and the ACC expect to get their share of the pie.

It’s this monopoly that Tulane University president Scott Cowen sought to break when he organized non-BCS university presidents into the Presidential Coalition for Athletics Reform in 2003. Cowen’s organization focused on two main issues; the first being access to and distribution of BCS money, and the second being the impact of negative perception that comes with being branded as a “non-BCS” school. Cowen’s organization met with BCS conference officials in 2004, and the result was the BCS system that we have in place today; a fifth BCS game and more accessibility for conferences outside of the 6 automatic qualifiers. Which brings us back to Hawaii.

The overwhelming concern of non-BCS schools was that the domination of bowl money by BCS members would create a de facto subdivision within Division I-A. BCS schools were generating enormous amounts of money and investing it in themselves, starting a sort of arms race of facilities, recruiting budgets, and coaches’ salaries. It’s a race in which schools on the outside of the BCS cash stream cannot compete. There might not be two better schools to illustrate this divide than Hawaii and Georgia. Take a look at Georgia’s football locker room. Heck, forget football… Take a look at what Georgia has for women’s basketball. Now compare that to this article in the Honolulu Advertiser in which Colt Brennan makes a plea for soap– soap–for Hawaii’s football locker room. Or consider each school’s recruiting budget. At Georgia, it’s half a million dollars. At Hawaii, June Jones couldn’t even afford to take trips to the mainland with his $50,000 recruiting budget— one-tenth of Georgia’s. Of course, not every team outside of the BCS conferences is in the quite the same financial situation as Hawaii. But they really aren’t that far from it.

And that’s the point. People are going to say that Hawaii didn’t deserve to be in the Sugar Bowl because they weren’t nearly as good as Georgia. Of course they weren’t. They weren’t supposed to be. Non-BCS schools didn’t get increased access to BCS bowls because they are good. They got increased access to the BCS to help them get good. Or at least to help them buy some damn soap. Now that’s not to say that there aren’t any teams outside of the BCS good enough to match up with the Georgias of the world. Non-BCS schools have still won more BCS bowl games than the ACC has. But with the enormous gap in resources between the automatic qualifiers and the outsiders, that success rate won’t last forever. The BCS generates about $100 million annually which gets divided between all I-A institutions. In most years, the BCS conferences get $91 million of it. Controlling that much of the money pie each year by rule virtually ensures that the BCS conferences will remain on top forever. I know what you’re thinking; they would always be the top conferences anyway, right? Maybe, maybe not. What if the BCS system was implemented 30 years ago? The Big East and Big 12 wouldn’t exist, the Southwest Conference would still be a powerhouse, Miami and Virginia Tech would probably be in Conference USA, and the Fiesta Bowl would still be a glorified Arizona State home game. Change did happen when schools and conferences competed on equal footing, but with non-BCS conferences only getting 9% of the money to split between themselves, it’s hard to imagine anything other than the status quo. Under the new BCS contract, an additional 9% is given to the non-BCS conferences when one of their teams play in a BCS game. That won’t be enough to turn the WAC into the Pac 10, but with a little bit of innovation, some of those schools can stretch their dollars enough that they can at least find ways to compete with the big boys once in a while. Who knows? With the estimated $3.5-4 million that Hawaii is expected to receive from their Sugar Bowl appearance, maybe they could afford soap and shampoo. 

As a fan, I was thrilled to see Hawaii in a BCS game. I wanted to see how they stacked up. Sure, Georgia could have played some 2 or 3-loss BCS team and perhaps gotten a better game out of them. Big deal. We see games like that every single year. It would usually be a more evenly matched game, but it would rarely be a better story. I hate seeing the little guy putting together a dream season only to be left wondering “what if” at the end of the season. I guess people just don’t like rooting for the underdog anymore. Besides, going into this year there have been 10 BCS bowl games that resulted in blowouts of 20 points or more, including losses by teams like Oklahoma, Ohio State, Iowa, and Nebraska. Were those teams undeserving of a spot in the BCS? Good games are no guarantee when you put big names in a bowl game.

If you’re a Navy fan, you should root like hell for teams like Hawaii to get a BCS berth. If Navy ever does the impossible and gets to a BCS game of its own, the Mids’ schedule is probably going to look a lot like the Warriors’. People will be talking about about whether or not Navy deserves to be there, too. Pray that we one day get a chance to defend a Navy spot in the Orange Bowl.

There Aren’t Too Many Bowl Games

Dick Heller at The Washington Times is the latest to join the choir singing about how there are, in his opinion, too many bowl games. For the life of me, I cannot understand this argument. The thinking goes like this: once upon a time, there were far fewer bowl games. Therefore, getting to a bowl game was a much bigger deal. Or as Heller says,

In bygone days, a bowl invitation was considered a nice reward for a team and school that had enjoyed a successful year — not merely a way to extend a pointless season and enrich an institution’s athletic coffers.

Maybe there’s a hint of truth to that. But so what? Does that mean it was better? I don’t think so. There is nothing wrong with having 32 bowl games. In fact, it’s a great thing.

Heller kicks off his column by recalling Maryland’s trip to the Peach Bowl in 1973, and the excitement it brought to the Terps’ program:

I remember how excited Maryland players and officials were in 1973, when the Peach Bowl crooked its corporate finger. There were only a handful of bowl games then, and Jerry Claiborne’s Terps had earned a spot with an 8-3 record. Moreover, the invitation reiterated that Maryland’s program was again respectable after nearly two decades in the dumps.

Yet towards the end of his piece, the Peach Bowl is one of the games that Heller proposes cutting:

Let’s do some arithmetic. There are 32 bowl games on the besotted 2007-08 football calendar and this season 58 Division I-A teams had winning records. So why not eliminate about 10 of the “classics” that nobody cares about except the cities, schools and corporate sponsors involved?

Unfortunately, this won’t happen, and you know the reasons: TV and money. All those ESPN outlets need something to show besides high-powered poker, even if nobody is watching. But do we really want the International, Capital One and Chick-fil-A affairs cluttering the holiday landscape?

Just about anyone who’s plugged into the world of college football knows that the Chick-fil-A Bowl is in fact the very same Peach Bowl about which Heller is reminiscing. The Peach Bowl entered into a corporate sponsorship with Chick-fil-A, and after being called the Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl for a while, was renamed as the Chick-fil-A Bowl in 2006. It’s the same game. So why is that game acceptable in 1973, but not in 2007? I suspect that Heller just picked some corporate-sounding names that he felt he could easily ridicule. Furthering my suspicion is Heller’s inclusion of the Capital One Bowl on his hit list. The Capital One Bowl is, of course, the former Citrus Bowl. That contest started in 1947 as the Tangerine Bowl and is another old and prestigious bowl game. How could Heller use two of the most coveted bowls to make his point? How could he make such a mistake? My guess is that he isn’t really a college football fan.

How can anyone who wants fewer bowl games truly be a college football fan? Heller himself says that if it wasn’t for bowl games, we’d have “high-powered poker” on TV instead. Is that better than any college football game? Would poker be better than Navy’s last-minute scramble to come back against Utah in the Poinsettia Bowl? Would an American Gladiators rerun be better than Central Michigan and Purdue lighting up the scoreboard in the Motor City Bowl? Would another World’s Strongest Man competition be better than East Carolina’s improbable upset of Boise State as time ran out in the Hawaii Bowl? Would some random figure skating event be better than UCLA fighting back to get a chance to beat BYU, only to have the Cougars make a dramatic last-second field goal block to preserve the win? Would another episode of The Bronx is Burning be better than watching Howard Schnellenberger lead Florida Atlantic, a school that wasn’t even a full-fledged Division I-A member until 2005, to the first bowl win in the team’s history? Which one of these great stories would those endorsing bowl contraction deny us? These were all entertaining games that any college football fan could appreciate. Some people, though, would prefer that games like these never happen.

Cut the number of bowl games, and you hurt all the wrong people. You hurt the little guy like Florida Atlantic and Ball State who see any bowl game as a huge opportunity. You hurt a school like Navy, an independent who needs these games to get around conference affiliations that dominate higher-tier bowls. You hurt a school like Indiana, whose berth in the Insight Bowl represents the fulfillment of a dream to “play 13” as laid out by their late coach, Terry Hoeppner. You hurt a team like Boston College that has put together some very good seasons, yet gets shunned by higher-profile bowl games because their fans don’t travel very well. You hurt coaches, who use the extra practice time to teach their younger players. And that’s not all.

Heller says that nobody cares about these smaller bowl games except “the cities, schools and corporate sponsors involved.” What, like that isn’t enough? Who else is supposed to care? Does Heller think that unless he has some kind of a stake in the game, it shouldn’t exist? That seems just the slightest bit arrogant. The $20 million impact on San Diego businesses is reason enough for San Diego to put on its two bowl games. Jay Cicero, president and CEO of the Greater New Orleans Sports Foundation, says that bowl fans have a greater economic effect than your average tourist.

Bowl visitors are fantastic. They’re all supporters of their schools. They’re willing to travel farther, stay a few more days, spend more  money. So, yes, they have greater economic impact.

So what’s wrong with that? Is it worth getting rid of tens of millions of dollars to local businesses just for the sake of making things the way they used to be? It’s only easy to say “yes” if you don’t own a restaurant that goes without business over Christmas. In the real world, things like money actually matter.

It is true that going to a bowl game– any bowl game– was a bigger deal when there were fewer games to go to. But does anyone really think that the existence of the Emerald Bowl somehow diminishes the prestige of the Rose Bowl? Somehow I have a hard time imagining a coach saying, “Well we were hoping to get to the Sugar Bowl, but the GMAC Bowl is close enough!” Let’s look at it a different way. Navy has been to 5 straight bowl games, each of which would probably be a prime candidate for contraction in Heller’s mind. If Navy put it all together next year and got a bid to say, the Orange Bowl, do you think that it wouldn’t be a big deal? I mean, it’s just one more bowl game. There’s really nothing special about the Orange Bowl after you’ve been to a couple of Poinsettia Bowls, right? Yeah, right. I know that people want to guard against rewarding mediocrity, and I can understand that. Nobody likes the whole Little League, everyone-gets-a-trophy mentality. But that’s not what we have here. Mediocre teams aren’t going to the Orange Bowl. They’re going to less celebrated bowl games. The best teams still get rewarded with the best bowls. The prestige of the higher profile games hasn’t changed.

Heller goes on to misrepresent Maryland head coach Ralph Friedgen:

The coach, who can spin with the best of them despite his ample girth, put it this way: “If we can finish 7-6 with all the stuff we’ve dealt with, it’d be a real tribute to our players and a real reward.”

Read my lips, Fridge: Balderdash! When Ralph and his assistants hit the recruiting trail, they’re unlikely to snare many blue-chippers by yowling “7-6!” or “Emerald Bowl!”

Cute, but that isn’t what Ralph said. Fridge didn’t say that the Emerald Bowl would be a boon to recruiting. Who’s doing the spinning here? All he said was that it would be nice for his players– not for himself– to be able to go out with a win after all they’ve had to deal with over the course of the season. Is that so hard to believe? I’m no expert on Maryland football, but that team suffered a lot of injuries this year and came under some pretty intense scrutiny from fans and the media. So yes, it would be a real reward to go out with a win after all that.

Perhaps the most offensive thing that Heller wrote– and I use “offensive” deliberately– is his description of smaller bowl games as “a way to extend a pointless season.” Pointless to whom? Grumpy columnists? It certainly isn’t pointless to the players. These players sacrifice their time and their bodies year-round for the opportunity to get onto the field. Try telling the seniors on these teams that their season, and that last bowl game, is “pointless.” How can anyone who has ever played any kind of organized sport not appreciate the desire to get onto the field one last time with your brothers? Cynics describe major college football as the NFL’s minor league, but that isn’t the truth. There are 32 teams in the NFL. There are 120 teams in I-A football. For the overwhelming majority of seniors, that bowl game is their last opportunity to suit up not only for their school, but for anyone. College athletes get four short years. Consider that most players don’t really see the field until their junior or senior year, and it gets even shorter. There is no such thing as a pointless game or a pointless season. College careers are too short to take any game for granted. Not only that, but bowl games are so much more than just the games themselves. The teams show up a week early, get treated like kings, get shown around town, get some serious swag, and basically get a key to the city. Players at the Poinsettia Bowl got PSPs. Other bowl games gave clothes, watches, iPods, sunglasses, XM radios, and more. Why would anyone want to take all this away from the players? It is supposed to be all about the players, right?

One of these “pointless” bowl games could be coming to Heller’s backyard next year if the DC Bowl Commission has its way. We will no doubt see another column then, as Heller will lament its creation for all the same reasons he listed here. But as you’re in your seat in either RFK or the new Nationals ballpark next year, watching the Mids take the field after you’ve spent a week around town with friends and classmates celebrating Navy football, you’ll know the truth. The truth is that bowl games are a great thing for those who get involved. If you don’t like them, don’t watch them. It isn’t that hard.

But it’s your loss.

I Don’t Hate Notre Dame

Anyone see this?

The following is the response I wrote, originally published on gomids.com:


If you’re reading this, then you have probably already read Chris Rohe’s piece about hating Notre Dame. After 43 years of losing to the same team, I’m sure he isn’t the only Navy fan to feel that way. That’s too bad. Losing is frustrating, but to hate Notre Dame as a result is a myopic point of view. Navy and Notre Dame have a bond that is very unique in the world of college sports.Most Navy and Notre Dame fans know the story. World War II took a huge toll on colleges and universities across the country as men of college age were called into service. Notre Dame was no exception, and the school faced a financial crisis because of it. The military had a completely different problem; the war had created a demand for officers that existing commissioning sources were unable to meet. Several service schools began to appear on college campuses and military installations; some, like Iowa Pre-Flight and Bainbridge Naval Training Center, even made a splash on the college football scene. Father Hugh O’Donnell, acting president of Notre Dame at the time, saw the military’s need as a solution to Notre Dame’s financial woes. He offered the school’s facilities to the Army, but was turned down. The Navy– particularly Chester Nimitz– was far more receptive, and a Naval training center was established at Notre Dame in 1941. During the war, 12,000 Naval officers were trained in South Bend. The influx of Navy trainees saved the school.Notre Dame awarded Nimitz, who had become Chief of Naval Operations, an honorary degree in 1946. At the ceremony, Nimitz spoke of his gratitude for the service that Notre Dame provided to the Navy, and for the officers that served under him in the Pacific fleet:

Father O’Donnell, you sent forth to me, as to other naval commands on every ocean and continent, men who had become imbued with more than the mechanical knowledge of warfare. Somehow, in the crowded hours of their preparation for the grim business of war, they had absorbed not only Notre Dame’s traditional fighting spirit, but the spiritual strength, too, that this University imparts to all, regardless of creed, who come under its influence.

Nimitz wasn’t alone in his expression of gratitude. In thanks for what the Navy did for the school, Notre Dame saves a place on its football schedule for Navy– Nimitz’s alma mater– each year.

College football has changed a lot since 1946. Once-sacred rivalries such as Oklahoma-Nebraska and Pitt-Penn State haven’t stood the test of time, falling victim to a shifting conference landscape driven by television money. But Notre Dame still honors its 60 year-old promise. Adherence to a decades-old vow is far from “disingenuous,” as Rohe chooses to describe the Notre Dame administration. It is, in fact, the most genuine form of loyalty that there is in college football. And don’t think that Notre Dame’s loyalty isn’t tested, either. The Irish are under constant criticism for playing Navy. John Feinstein describes Notre Dame as a bully for scheduling what he feels is an overwhelmed Navy team each year. In a BCS world where so much emphasis is placed on strength of schedule, there are many in the media who ridicule Notre Dame for not dropping Navy. The biggest names in college football want to schedule Notre Dame; the Irish could surely make more money by replacing Navy with a higher-profile opponent. Yet Notre Dame never hesitates to renew the series, recently extending it to 2016. Notre Dame does not turn its back on the promise it made.

The truth is that Navy needs this game far more than Notre Dame does. Playing Notre Dame is a financial windfall for the Naval Academy Athletic Association. The TV revenue, plus ticket sales in venues twice the size of Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium, account for a large part of NAAA’s operating budget. The “million dollar guarantee” between the two schools means that even when Notre Dame is the home team, Navy receives a substantial portion of the gate receipts at Notre Dame Stadium. Having this reliable revenue stream means several things. It allows NAAA to fund 30 different varsity teams, giving midshipmen more opportunities to fulfill the physical mission of the Academy. Just as important, it allows Navy to remain independent. Teams join conferences in large part because they can’t survive without the shared revenue. Navy doesn’t need that shared revenue to stay above water because it makes money off of playing Army and Notre Dame. Navy’s own football success of late has a lot to do with its independence, as our scheduling flexibility allows us to keep things manageable. Playing Notre Dame also pays dividends in recruiting, as players like knowing that they’ll get 4 shots to play on college football’s biggest stage during their Navy career. It would be hard to achieve any kind of success at Navy without Notre Dame.

The most disturbing part of Rohe’s piece is his description of Notre Dame fans as arrogant. We are all familiar with the bandwagon “subway alumni.” That group, like those of any school, can certainly be a mixed bag. My experiences in South Bend, however, are nothing like what Rohe described. I had the privilege of making two trips to Notre Dame Stadium while I was a midshipman, and in those two trips I was treated like a king. Notre Dame embraces its naval heritage, and still boasts the largest NROTC unit in the country. Notre Dame’s NROTC unit has always served as a wonderful host for mids who make the trip. The real treat, though, is walking around before and after a game. The uniform I wore was a ticket to every tailgater in the parking lot. I cannot count how many times I was invited by an old Irish alum who’d put his arm around me, put a hamburger in my hand, and tell stories about Navy games past and what those games meant to him. When the Superintendent announced the crackdown on movement orders at the beginning of the season, I was relieved that the one exception was Notre Dame. Every mid should have the opportunity to experience what my classmates and I did.

Rohe, if he had taken the time to understand Notre Dame fans, would know that Prop 48 admissions were a sore spot for many. And however bogus they might have been, one would think that Navy’s own steroid allegations and legal issues in the much more recent past would have forced Rohe to give pause before firing that shotgun in his glass house. As for “bastardizing” traditions– I don’t even know what that means.

I apologize if I come off as confrontational. That isn’t really my intent. Rohe’s attitude is the prevailing one among many college football fans. In all honesty, I am by no means a fan of Notre Dame football either. I thought Lou Holtz liked to run up the score, and I find Charlie Weis to be as arrogant as they come. However, I don’t let my opinion of the football team overshadow the importance of the relationship between Notre Dame and the Naval Academy, nor do I ignore the honor and integrity with which Notre Dame has carried out that relationship. Those two values are at the heart of everything that the Naval Academy stands for, and I am proud to have my alma mater associate itself with another institution that clearly feels the same way. And that is really what is at the heart of this rivalry. While the World War II tale is the most famous story behind Navy-Notre Dame, the series actually began in 1927. The following passage, written by Notre Dame president Rev. Matthew Walsh, appeared in that program:

Notre Dame, Army, and Navy make an ideal group for a football triangle. Their students live on campus, they draw their student body from all parts of the country. The outcome of our games with the Navy and with the Army is not so important as that the best feeling of sport and good-fellowship always prevail. We are indeed happy to have Navy on our schedule: we trust it will continue so long and so amiably as to become a part of our best loved traditions.

There might be some who hate Notre Dame, but their numbers do not include any Navy fan that understands the big picture. I actually wish we would play in more than just football. Navy and Notre Dame are adversaries for one day out of the year. For the other 364 days, they are partners.

Reading Is Fundamental

It’s a weird sort of pseudo-bye week for the Mids. Navy doesn’t play tomorrow. They do play a game next Wednesday, however, so the team’s regular routine was just bumped over a few days while the coaching staff went out recruiting. As the team’s schedule has moved over a bit, so has mine. The Wednesday game has left a gap in my regular rotation of recaps and previews. To fill that void, I thought that maybe we could take a look at some of the basics of Paul Johnson’s spread option.

How often do we hear Coach Johnson critique a quarterback after practice, saying something along the lines of, “He needs to learn to make the right reads?” Or when fielding a question about why electric runners like Karlos Whittaker or Shun White aren’t getting more playing time, how many times have you heard, “He’s a great runner, but he needs to learn where to go when he doesn’t have the ball?” In his press briefings on the Monday after a game, it’s not unusual to hear Coach Johnson talk about the defensive alignment that Navy’s opponent used, followed up with a comment about how the players should have known where to go since they’ve seen it before.

We hear things like this all the time. And while it’s easy to grasp the concept of carrying out an assignment, understanding the details of these assignments isn’t exactly intuitive for the fan. So let’s take a look at our bread & butter play– the triple option– as we run it in our base spread formation, and talk about what our players need to read from the defense that lines up across from them.

We’ll start by talking about the formation itself:

This is our base formation in an offense that PJ simply calls the “spread.”  It has two receivers split wide, two slot receivers (A-backs), and a fullback (B-back) lined up behind the quarterback with his feet 5 yards from the line of scrimmage.

While the base formations look the same, Paul Johnson’s offense is not a true “flexbone” offense. “Breaking the bone” is something wishbone offenses have done for decades by moving one or two running backs closer to the line of scrimmage. The “flexbone” term itself was born in the late 70s. Ken Hatfield devised his version of the wishbone offense, which he called the “Flexible Wishbone,” while serving as Florida’s offensive coordinator under Doug Dickey. By moving one or both running backs closer to the line of scrimmage, those players could be more effective in the passing game than they would be coming out of the backfield. The added threat of the pass also kept defenders from overpursuing, since that could lead to disaster by way of play action. Even as the formation evolved, though, the “flexbone” offense was still rooted in wishbone principles. That meant power running: frequently bringing in a tight end, using a fullback that was as much of a lead blocker as a runner, and running halfbacks between the tackles.

Paul Johnson’s offense is different. His goal is not to overpower the defense, but to stretch it out. The tight end is virtually nonexistant in his offense, and the slotbacks almost never run between the tackles. His plays are designed to make a defense respect both inside and outside running possibilities equally in addition to the same passing threat that comes with having two slot receivers.  To that end, the ideal fullback in this spread offense is not the same kind of player as a wishbone fullback. Instead, he should be more like a traditional tailback– a perimeter threat as well as an inside runner. Navy fans are used to the bruiser types lining up behind the quarterback the last few years, but this has been the exception rather than the norm in Paul Johnson’s career. Gerald Harris from PJ’s first stint at Georgia Southern, Roderick Russell and Adrian Peterson from PJ’s second time around at GSU, Travis Sims and Jamal Farmer at Hawaii, and Omar Nelson and Tim Cannada from his Navy OC days– none of these guys were prototypical wishbone fullbacks.  Even Kyle Eckel was used as a tailback by the Patriots on Monday night. If you have a B-back that is a true inside-outside threat, then defenses can’t stop him by clogging the middle of the field. And that’s what is at the heart of the Paul Johnson running game: opening up running space by spreading out the defense.

The base formation in the spread is balanced, which is the first step in stretching the defense. The balanced formation forces the defense to line up with a balanced look as well. By sending a slotback into tail motion just before the snap, the formation becomes unbalanced faster than the defense can adjust. This creates a numbers advantage on the side of the ball to which the play is being run. We hear that a lot– “numbers advantage.” This is the quarterback’s first read at the line of scrimmage when running the triple option.

To make the read, the quarterback assigns numbers to defenders aligned on each side of the ball. The numbers are assigned based on their position relative to the B gap. “Gaps” simply refer to the space between the offensive linemen; the A gap is between the center and guards, and the B gap is between the guard and tackle.

Numbering begins at the B gap, progressing to the outside and back. The count is to three to account for the three potential ball carriers in the triple option. Everyone else either has a blocker assigned to them or is lined up beyond 5 yards from the line of scrimmage. The first down lineman lined up on or outside the B gap is #1. The next closest player lined up outside or stacked behind #1 is #2. If there is another player outside or behind #2 and within 5 yards of the line of scrimmage, that player is #3. To illustrate this, let’s look at how Air Force frequently lined up against the Navy offense last week:

Numbers

Air Force runs a base 3-4 defense. Against Navy, they brought their outside linebackers up to the line of scrimmage to present a 5-man front. On the left side of the ball in the illustration, the defensive end is the first player lined up on or outside the B gap. The outside linebacker is #2, and the cornerback, who is within 5 yards of the LOS here, is #3. On the right side of the ball, the DE and LB are #1 and #2 as well, but the safety creeping down in run support is #3. There is a 3-count to both sides. Because there is no numbers advantage, the quarterback would move on to his next read, which would be to run the play to the wide side of the field.

Numbers dictate more than just which side of the field to run the play. They also determine blocking assignments and who the quarterback’s keys are. Because of this, every player– not just the quarterback– needs to recognize the numbers. Whoever is #1 becomes the quarterback’s read key, determining whether the QB keeps the ball or gives it to the B-back. #2 becomes the quarterback’s pitch key. Those two players go unblocked. The playside A-back blocks #3.

Now, let’s take that and apply it to what we saw on Kaipo’s 78-yard TD run.

Kaipo's run

On that play, #1 played the fullback dive. Kaipo made his read, kept the ball, and moved on to his pitch key, the outside linebacker (#2). As the pitch key, #2 was also left unblocked. Instead of playing the quarterback, though, #2 went to play the fullback as well, leaving the quarterback uncovered. Kaipo read this and turned upfield. The free safety read the option and began to move forward in run support. But by the time he saw that Kaipo had the ball, it was too late. When a runner as fast as Kaipo gets a full head of steam, there’s no way that a safety will be able to see him, stop, turn around, and accelerate fast enough to catch him. 78 yards later and the crowd gets an Anchors Aweigh serenade.

Now, take a look at the way that Army is lined up in the first photograph:

Army

Army has used a 4-4 defense against Navy every year since Paul Johnson arrived, and they’re lined up that way here. On this particular play, the corners are lined up beyond 5 yards from the line of scrimmage, and are therefore unnumbered. The middle linebacker on the left is also unnumbered because he is lined up over the guard, and therefore inside the B gap. Here, the quarterback reads a 3-count to the right and a 2-count to the left. This is a numbers advantage, and the play should be run to the left side.

Runthe play

#1 and #2 are again left unblocked as the quarterback’s keys. The playside A-back, though, does not have a #3 to block. His responsibility on this play is to carry out a “load” block. This means that he heads straight upfield and looks for the first unnumbered playside linebacker. If that linebacker is moving in the direction of the play, the A-back will block him. If that linebacker is moving away from the play or is playing the fullback dive, then the A-back will move on to block the safety. The wide receiver is responsible for blocking the corner.

These are the basic reads for the triple option out of our base formation. This only addressed how players evaluate the defensive alignment; once the ball is snapped, the quarterback has a whole new set of reads on his keys that he must carry out to know where the ball should go. The blocking schemes that the offensive line uses are different on plays that are run to a 2-count side than plays run to a 3-count side, which adds to the importance of the quarterback making the right call before the snap. While these are the basic blocking assignments, the coaches can tinker with them. Blocking schemes are usually at the heart of Paul Johnson’s halftime adjustments.

Teaching in progress.

Confused yet? Keep in mind that this entire post was only about one play as it is run out of one formation. This barely scratched the surface. Players have a lot to learn if they want to be effective in this offense. It’s funny sometimes to hear some people call the offense simple, while others describe it as complex. They’re both right. It’s simple in the sense that on any given play, each player has a very specific job to do based on his read. It’s complicated because there are a lot of different reads to make in a lot of different situations. Either way, players need to master the mental game before they can use their physical ability.

Kyle’s Back In Business

The Patriots, who had claimed Kyle Eckel off of waivers and placed him on their practice squad, signed him to the active roster today.

http://www.patriots.com/news/index.cfm?ac=latestnewsdetail&pid=28058&pcid=47

UPDATE: Didn’t take long for Kyle to get into a game. He lined up at tailback while the Pats were running out the clock, got three carries, and picked up a first down. He looked good. Now that the Chargers have been Norved and any optimism that I might have had for them has been crushed, I don’t think there’s anything I want more from this NFL season than to see Kyle Eckel with a Super Bowl ring.

…etc.

— Navy has sold 22,634 season tickets, breaking last year’s record of 20,206. Nearly 67% of the seats at Navy-Marine Corps Stadium are occupied by season ticket holders. Pretty soon we’re going to have to stop saying that PJ is worth his weight in gold. I wonder if gold is worth its weight in PJs.

— Bill Wagner talks some more about the injuries to Deliz and Sovie.

— Wagner also scratches his curiosity itch that was caused by a comment made by Coach Johnson at one of his practice Q&As. NAPSters are populating a lot of football rosters out there. I’m not being self-serving on this one, I swear.

Read this. Be proud.

Game Week: Ball State

The transcript of Paul Johnson’s Monday press conference says a lot, but there are some things that aren’t conveyed in print. A clearly agitated PJ held his practice Q&A with reporters amidst a backdrop of whistles and screaming assistant coaches conducting conditioning drills. Coach Johnson noted that he saw a whopping 62 efforts in the film of the Rutgers game. An “effort,” for the purposes of player evaluation at Navy, is a play by an individual where a coach determines that the player doesn’t go at full speed from snap to the whistle. To give you a feel for how bad a 62-effort game is, PJ says that by the end of last year the number of efforts per game was in the single digits. Compounding the problem in PJ’s mind was that this performance came against a top 25 team, which one would think would be a huge motivator. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. Not in PJ’s eyes, anyway, and he conducted his practice accordingly. It isn’t a very good time to be a Navy football player; Paul Johnson has a way of delivering a message very effectively.

Knowing this, Navy fans are probably expecting a much better performance from the Mids on Saturday. That might happen, but Navy isn’t playing in a vacuum. They have a good football team waiting for them.

Remember at the end of the trial in the movie A Time to Kill, when Jake Brigance asks the jury members to close their eyes while he tells them a story? I’m going to do the same here, only you have to keep your eyes open because you need them to read. OK, that didn’t come off as well as I thought it would… Bah, screw it.  Just pretend that you’re closing your eyes. Pretend that while your eyes are closed, I tell you about a football team. This football team is coming off of a 38-16 win against a conference opponent. They average nearly 400 yards of offense per game, including 250 through the air. They have yet to turn the ball over after two games. They are in the top 25 in total defense, giving up only 279 yards per game thus far. This team features a quarterback who is on the watch lists for both major quarterback awards, was named by The Sporting News as his conference’s preseason player of the year, and has thrown for 5 TDs and no INTs over his first two games. The team also features a wide receiver who had 210 all-purpose yards and 2 TDs in his last game. This team’s TE stands at 6-6, is on the Mackey Award watch list, and was named by The Sporting News as the 10th best TE in the nation. Can you see this team? Can you? Now this is the part where you open your eyes in shock and confusion when I tell you that this team is Ball State.

Yes, Ball State. Of course, you already knew that, since they’re next on the schedule and named at the top of this post. But you get my point. If this team was called anything other than Ball State, they’d be fairly highly regarded right now. As Navy fans, I think most of us understand that it’s tough to shake off perception after losing for so long. We know we’ve become a pretty good team, though, and we expect to win each week. Ball State fans are starting to feel the same way. And why wouldn’t they? They won 3 out of their last 4 games to end the 2006 season, with the loss coming in a very close game at Michigan. The Cardinals had a hiccup against Miami (OH) after a 56-yard punt return set up Miami’s winning TD with 17 seconds left, but they dominated Eastern Michigan. They certainly expect to be one of the better teams in the MAC this year, and have high hopes of becoming bowl-eligible for the first time since they won the conference in 1996.

I don’t want to play up statistics too much, because we all know that statistics are as much an indicator of who you’ve played as they are of how you’ve played. Anyone can cherry-pick stats to reassure themselves of their team’s greatness. Air Force fans do it all the time. But while numbers never tell the whole story, the stats I mentioned certainly don’t do anything to dismiss the observation that regardless of how good Miami and Eastern Michigan are, Ball State is playing some pretty good football right now .

On the flip side, Navy is hurting, especially defensively. Let’s pull out the ol’ stat book again. When I previewed Rutgers, I said that Buffalo “might be the worst team in I-A.” This is a team that has gone 3-20 over the last two years, so if they aren’t the worst they’re at least in the conversation. Coincidentally, Buffalo has also played the same two teams that Navy has this year in Rutgers and Temple. So how does Navy stack up to Buffalo statistically? In total defense:

61 Buffalo  352.00 ypg
69 Navy     374.50

Buffalo has given up 22 fewer yards per game. A scoring defense comparison doesn’t yield a better result:

56 Buffalo    22.5 ppg
89 Navy       30.0

That’s Buffalo, people. I don’t mean to disparage Turner Gill’s team. My point is that this is a Buffalo team that is undergoing a MAJOR rebuilding effort. At Navy, we like to think that we have advanced past that point. After two games, though, the defense hasn’t played like it, and they’re playing a Ball State team that is more than capable of taking full advantage. But that’s not all…

Q: What do you get when you take a struggling defense and remove both the team captain and the best linebacker for the rest of the season?

A: Problems. Big problems.

PJ dropped a bomb in is press briefing yesterday, and Bill Wagner reported it on his blog. Jeff Deliz and Clint Sovie are both going under the knife today and are out for the year. Now a young defense trying to turn things around has to do so without its two biggest leaders. Are you concerned yet? You should be. This is a huge game for the Navy defense. It isn’t surprising that they struggled against Rutgers and their bona fide Heisman candidate. If they turn around and struggle against Ball State though, then it starts to look like a pattern. A young squad without its leaders can lose confidence quickly, and before you know it things start spiraling downward. PJ has said that this defense has the athletic ability to be successful. Now they have to get it done between the ears.

Ball State runs to keep defenses honest. Their bread and butter is a passing game led by quarterback Nate Davis. Once again, the fate of the Navy defense is going to be determined up front. Can anyone break through the offensive line to apply some pressure? Ball State has only given up 3 sacks in their two games, but Miami and EMU were able to get enough pressure on Davis that he’s only completed 51% of his passes. If Navy can do the same, then they should have a chance to win. But with Ball State RB MiQuale Lewis averaging almost 20 yards a catch, you don’t want to have to send in too many to generate that pressure; it would leave the defense susceptible to the screen. Sometimes it seems that nothing kills Navy quite like screen passes.

Now let’s take a trip in the way-back machine and think about the 2005 Navy season. Lamar Owens struggled over the first half of the season in the passing game. After a loss to Rutgers in which Lamar threw two interceptions and was sacked 5 times, a frustrated Paul Johnson was asked how he could solve this problem. PJ replied that he would simply not throw the ball anymore, which drew some chuckles from those of us who read the transcripts from his press briefings. But PJ was serious. The next week, Navy attempted only 3 passes while rushing for 418 yards in a 49-21 rout of Tulane. Today, we have another loss to Rutgers after throwing three interceptions, and an exasperated PJ wondering why he even calls pass plays. Sound familiar? I think the game plan on offense will be a lot like that Tulane game: back to basics. Ball State was ranked 103rd in rushing defense a year ago. By the end of this game they’ll know if they’ve turned that around or not.

This is a huge game for both teams. Ball State wants to avoid a 1-2 start with games on the road at Nebraska, at Illinois, and at Indiana all left to play on their schedule. Navy is finally playing in front of the Brigade and needs to make a statement to themselves that they can bounce back after a performance that Coach Johnson called “embarrassing.” Questions get answered Saturday night.

— I’d like to give a quick tip of the cap to the “Voice of the Cardinals,” Morry Mannies. This is his 52nd year calling games for Ball State. That is about as awesome as it gets.

Breaking Down the Train Wreck

Well, that sucked. It was tough to watch Friday night as Rutgers took down Navy, 41-24. It’d be one thing if I felt that Navy gave their best effort and just came up short to a better team. But while Rutgers was clearly the better team, Navy’s effort was far from what it is capable of. At least I hope so.

Anyway, I’m having a hard time writing a summary of the whole thing, so I’m just going to do this in conversation form.

OK, so what happened?

I have no idea. I know what my impressions were from my chair, though. I thought the team looked intimidated. Rutgers shot themselves in the foot with penalties on their first drive, and that one punt was the last time they weren’t in control of the game. The offense came out after that and looked completely unsure of itself, something I’ve never seen in a Paul Johnson team before. They settled down eventually, but not until after they’d given Rutgers some great field position a couple of times. The defense had enough of a challenge ahead of it without the offense giving Rutgers a head start.

The offense really looked like they had mentally checked out. Delay of game penalty? Reggie catching a kickoff on the sideline & falling out of bounds? It just didn’t look like a PJ-coached team out there.

So what was wrong with the defense?

The Rutgers offensive line is what was wrong with the defense. They dominated the game, opening up huge holes for Ray Rice. Rice had almost a 3 yard gain on every play before any Navy defender even touched him. Mike Teel could have stopped to tie his shoe in the middle of a play if he wanted to. Buddy Green would send 5, 6, 7 guys in, but it didn’t matter. We couldn’t stop Rutgers when we rushed 2 guys and we couldn’t stop them when we brought 7. Losing Sovie and Deliz sure didn’t help matters.

So can the defense be fixed?

Probably not.

WTF do you mean, “probably not?”

Look, sometimes you just don’t have the horses to hang with top 15 teams. We play against bigger offensive lines all the time, and “big” doesn’t necessarily mean “good.” But Rutgers wasn’t just big, they were big and very athletic. They pushed our front seven wherever they wanted them to go.

We still missed a lot of tackles, too. You’d hope that would be one thing that’s correctable, but it hasn’t happened so far. The 2005 team also missed a lot of tackles early on, but seemed to get it together by the end of the season. Here’s hoping that history repeats itself.

So are we doomed to get pushed around the rest of the year?

No. Athletic big men are the most rare commodity in football. Not everyone has them. Over the rest of our schedule, only Pitt, Notre Dame, and Wake Forest really have the same type of linemen as Rutgers, with Rutgers being the best of the bunch. I wasn’t sure about Wake Forest, but after watching their game against Nebraska I’m convinced that we’ll have the same kind of problems with them. They were a lot more physical than I thought they’d be.

What about the secondary?

They missed tackles like everyone else, but if you don’t get any pressure on the quarterback it wouldn’t matter if your defensive backfield consisted of Darrell Green, Ronnie Lott, Mel Renfro, and Night Train Lane. Receivers will get open.

We’re scheduled to play Rutgers for a long time. Is it going to be this way for the next seven years?

No. Look at all the freshmen and sophomores we had playing on defense: Nate Frazier, Andy Lark, Kyle Bookhout, Tony Harberer, Ross Pospisil, Matt Nechak, Jesse Iwuji, Wyatt Middleton… By the end of the game we only had two seniors left on the field. The defense will get better. Maybe Ray Rice will turn pro this year too. That’ll help.

Kaipo didn’t look that great.

He sure didn’t, not that anyone else on the offense did either.

If there was one word to describe Kaipo’s performance, it’d be “tentative.” He seemed unsure of himself, which contradicts the complete confidence he shows in practice. Then again, in practice he isn’t constantly running for his life.

This might sound wishy-washy and vague, but Kaipo seems to be struggling to find his identity. Every Navy QB under PJ had a calling card. Candeto was the guy that knew the offense inside & out. Polanco was the big-play guy, especially with his arm. Lamar Owens was the super-quick guy. Brian Hampton was the quarterback who ran like a fullback. Kaipo is…? He certainly has the most straight-ahead speed of the bunch, but only rarely does he really have a chance to show it. He is physically bigger than last year, putting on 10-15 pounds of muscle, but doesn’t seem to have figured out how to apply that strength and run with any power.

Not to mention the interceptions.  

Yeah, they were bad. I don’t think they were all the result of bad decisions, though. The first one was the result of an ridiculously athletic defensive play; if Josh Meek can make that block, the DE is in no position to react to the ball. That play– the quick hitter to the slot– is all about timing, and Kaipo has no choice there but to count on that block being made. He can’t wait to make sure that the DE was cut down. Any QB probably would’ve thrown an INT there. The second interception looked like Kaipo was trying to throw it away, and the ball slipped. The third interception was the worst. It looked like Reggie was open there for a second, but Kaipo held on to the ball too long which gave the defender time to close and make the play. That one hurt. Holding onto the ball too long was something Kaipo did against Temple a couple of times, too. If PJ passes again all year (which isn’t a given the way he sounded in the postgame press conference), that will be something they work on.

Also, does anyone else think that maybe Kaipo has small hands? Is that why his throwing motion is a little awkward? To compensate for not being able to grip the ball well? Just a thought.

So why don’t we sit Kaipo down to give him time to look for that “identity” and bigger hands?

Let’s not be crazy. It was one loss, and it came to a top 15 team. Kaipo had a bad game, but he won’t be the last quarterback to have a bad game against Rutgers this year. Besides, nobody else on offense played well either. You don’t want to bench the whole team, do you?

The problem with being a quarterback is that everyone else’s mistakes end up making you look bad. Missed blocks? QB gets crunched. Can’t get open? QB can’t complete a pass. It all reflects on the QB, whether it’s his fault or not. Yes, Kaipo made his fair share of mistakes too. But there are 22 guys on the field. It doesn’t all boil down to the quarterback. It’d be no different if Jarod Bryant was in the game. You’d just have a different QB in there running for his life.

If you say so. So were the refs as bad as they were against Temple?

Can a blogger be fined by the ACC? No comment.

So what now?

Well, there’s good news and bad news.

I’m a Navy fan, so I *heart* pain. What’s the bad news? 

The bad news is that opposing coaches have a lot of film to look at to help them figure out how to beat the Navy offense.

Then what’s the good news?

The good news is that none of those opposing coaches coach Rutgers, and if they try what Rutgers did they’ll get crushed. This game was so frustrating to watch because Rutgers played a lot of the game in a straight man-to-man defense. With this offense, you PRAY that the defense lines up in man-to-man. When that happens, you motion the slot one way to get his man to follow, then run the play the opposite way. Pull a guard to take care of the extra man and give you a numbers advantage, and you should have only one guy left to cover both the quarterback and the pitch. PJ did just that, but Rutgers was so fast that most of the time the pulling lineman never got to his man. That, and Rutgers did an excellent job shedding cuts the entire game, allowing them to run to the ball. All the Stanford fans who whined about cut blocks two years ago should have watched this game.

What’s the bottom line?

The bottom line is that Navy has now played the best team on its schedule. They fought back from a bad start to make it a game again, but made mistakes and ultimately lost.

If we’re going to beat a top 25 team, it’s going to have to be a complete game. The offense can’t turn the ball over. The defense needs to force punts once in a while so that the offense doesn’t have to be perfect. While nobody left on the schedule is as good as Rutgers, there are still some good teams left to play. We’ll have some more chances to get it right.

Game Week: Rutgers

The Cleveland Clinic has this to say about the condition known as dissociative amnesia:

Dissociative amnesia occurs when a person blocks out certain information, usually associated with a stressful or traumatic event, leaving him or her unable to remember important personal information. With this disorder, the degree of memory loss goes beyond normal forgetfulness and includes gaps in memory for long periods of time or of memories involving the traumatic event.

Because of this affliction, some of you might not remember that Navy actually played Rutgers last year. The 34-0 thumping at the hands of the Scarlet Knights could certainly be classified as a “traumatic event.” Brian Hampton almost lost his leg, Rutgers blocked two punts, and their defense held the Navy offense to only 113 yards rushing. Navy crossed midfield once, getting all the way to the Rutgers 41 in the second quarter. Navy’s longest running play was 20 yards, and it came from a linebacker on a fake punt. So, to state the obvious, Navy’s offense had a bad day. It was clear that after Brian Hampton was hurt, the offense had the life knocked out of it. Nobody knows if Navy would have won the game if Brian was able to play, but I think it’s safe to say that Navy would have at least played a whole lot better. Greg Schiano’s defensive gameplan at that point was to simply blitz the living hell out of Kaipo, and it worked pretty well on the wide-eyed sophomore backup.

Lost in the abject misery of that game is that Navy’s defense actually played pretty well. They held Ray Rice to less than 100 yards rushing and forced three turnovers. Yes, Rutgers scored 34 points, but that was in large part because they got tremendous field position from a lack of Navy offense and two blocked punts. Rutgers scored six times, but the average length of their scoring drives was only 37 yards. Their average starting field position in the game was their own 49 yard line. The Navy defense held Rutgers to 10 points in the first half, but by the end of the game was just worn out from being on the field so much.

The largest crowd in Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium history turned out to see last year’s game. I’m not sure how many will show up on Friday, but with the demand for Rutgers tickets lately I’m sure the crowd will also be large, loud, and lively. The game that crowd will see, though, will be a lot different than last year’s Category 5 suck storm.

Ray Rice is good.If you watched Rutgers’ game against Buffalo, you might not agree with me. Yes, Buffalo might be the worst team in I-A, but there was no denying that Rutgers looked good anyway. Ray Rice picked up where he left off last year, running for 184 yards and three touchdowns. Easily the best running back Navy will face this year, Rice looked like the poster boy for a “Don’t let arm tackles happen to you” campaign. As dominant as he was, though, Rice didn’t have the most impressive game. That honor belonged to wide receiver Tiquan Underwood, who did his best Lance Alworth imitation by rolling up 221 receiving yards on 9 catches– in the first half. Underwood had 10 of QB Mike Teel’s 16 completions. Teel has made tremendous progress himself. The junior was a different player over the last three games of 2006. Over the first ten games of the year, Teel threw for 7 touchdowns and 12 interceptions while completing only 52% of his passes. Against Syracuse, West Virginia, and Kansas State, he completed 65% of his passes with 5 touchdowns and no interceptions. After throwing for another 328 yards against Buffalo, it looks like Mike Teel hasn’t lost a step from his impressive Texas Bowl performance.

The one thing that struck me about the Rutgers passing game against Buffalo was that out of Teel’s 16 completions, none were to a tight end and only two went to Ray Rice out of the backfield. That’s not the Rutgers offense we’ve seen the last few years with TE Clark Harris and FB Brian Leonard. Navy’s defensive gameplan against Rutgers back then was simple: stop the run, and prevent the long pass play. They did a decent job of both. The problem in those games, though, was that having the defensive backs sit back and prevent the long ball meant that linebackers were often left responsible to cover Harris and Leonard one-on-one underneath. Those two guys were a tough matchup for any linebacker, not just Navy’s, and it showed; Leonard had over 100 all-purpose yards in the 2005 game, while Harris had 5 catches for 63 yards last year. It isn’t always a good idea to read too much into one game, but it seemed that Rutgers’ offense was a lot different against Buffalo without those two players.

Navy’s gameplan this year will be the same. Without Harris and Leonard, the defense actually matches up better against Rutgers in 2007 than in years past. However, matchups don’t mean a thing without execution. Navy missed 28 tackles against Temple. A performance like that against Rutgers will turn the game into a Ray Rice for Heisman infomercial. Was that the real Navy defense we saw last week, or can their mistakes be corrected? If the Navy defense is to have any chance at all in this game, it has to be the latter. Stopping Rice is one key. The other is putting pressure on Mike Teel. Teel showed over the last three games of 2006 that he can’t be counted on to make mistakes on his own anymore. Not coincidentally, Teel wasn’t sacked in any of those games either. Navy’s defense needs to force Teel into making bad decisions; given enough time, Tiquan Underwood and Kenny Britt will get themselves open.

It’s a tall order, and I’m not completely sure it’s one that Navy will be able to fill. I think Navy’s defense will improve on last week’s effort, but Ray Rice will make you pay for even a few missed tackles. And while the defensive line looked pretty good against an underrated Temple offensive line, Navy lost its best pass-rushing linebacker in recent memory to graduation. Who’s going to fill that role? That question wasn’t answered last week. It’ll have to be if Navy expects to keep the Rutgers offense in check.

On defense, Rutgers has a reputation for being fast and aggressive. They lived up to that reputation against Buffalo. They might have lived up to it a little too well; their aggression bordered on recklessness, as demonstrated by the defense’s four offside penalties. Recklessness might be something you can get away with against Buffalo, but if Rutgers plays that way against a Paul Johnson offense it will be eaten alive. The key to defending option plays is discipline; one missed assignment, and a 3 yard gain becomes a 30 yard gain. Last year, Schiano was able to blitz just about everyone to overwhelm the quarterback. That won’t work this year. Whatever progress Mike Teel has made since the last game, Kaipo has improved even more. The deer in the headlights look is gone, and PJ will be able to exploit the holes left by blitzing linebackers.

PJ’s challenge this week is how to use Rutgers’ speed and aggressiveness against them. That means a lot of counter option plays, play-action passing, and draws, plays that we didn’t really see against Temple. Expect also to see PJ dip into the ol’ bag of tricks, with at least one reverse. If PJ really feels like digging into the playbook, we might also see some screen passes.

Greg Schiano has always made a priority of stopping the fullback against Navy. I suspect that he does this because as long as he can stop the run up the middle, he can rely on the speed of his linebackers and secondary to react, get outside, and limit the damage on the perimeter. The way to beat this is to get the ball to the perimeter faster than defenders can get there. PJ does that by using toss sweeps and quick passes to A-backs and wide recievers. Once the defense adjusts to these plays, PJ can then use toss sweep motion to open up holes for the fullback inside.

Speaking of opening up holes, the offensive line faces a unique challenge this week. For once, Navy won’t be outsized. What the Rutgers d-line lacks in size, though, they more than make up for in speed. DT Eric Foster is only 265 pounds, but he’s some of the fastest 265 pounds you’ll ever see. Quickness is also the strength of the Navy offensive line, and the interior linemen will need it to keep Foster in check. With Antron Harper moving to center, I think they’ll be able to do it. But the challenge doesn’t end there. The biggest problem with a fast defensive line is that if the option is slow to develop, the backside DE can track down the quarterback from behind. It’s a problem we’ve had for years with Notre Dame. The backside tackle’s responsibility is usually just to chip the DE and move on to a linebacker. If the option moves at the speed it’s supposed to, that isn’t a problem. Any hitch in the execution, though, and a fast DE will make you pay. Rutgers does that as well as anybody.

So, will Navy be up to it? Offensively, I think they will. After getting shut down against Connecticut in 2002, Huskies coach Randy Edsall made some comments that hinted that he thought he “solved” Paul Johnson’s offense. PJ never forgets that sort of thing, and he lit up the scoreboard the next time Navy and UConn met. While Greg Schiano hasn’t said anything close to that, the media certainly has. That’s enough to motivate PJ. There’s nothing more exciting than a Paul Johnson gameplan when he has a little extra motivation. On the flip side, the defense has a lot to deal with. I think that they will improve over last week, but the kind of improvement they’d need to shut down Ray Rice is a pretty big jump for one week. I think that the game is going to be a shootout.

The New York media loves hyperbole. Anything good is portrayed as the OMG BEST EVER!!!, while anything that isn’t up to par is treated as a disaster. Rutgers is a solid football team. As such, the local media has them slotted somewhere between LSU and the St. Louis Rams. They aren’t that good. They are the best team on Navy’s schedule, though, and it’s going to take a great game for Navy to beat them.

A great game, but by no means an impossible game.

See you tomorrow!

Back From the Ledge

As I mentioned on Friday, I’m not very much fun to watch a Navy game with. I’m a bit of a melodramatist while the game’s in progress. During last year’s UMass game– a 21-20 win, mind you– I remember thinking that the season was lost and there was no chance that Navy would get to Charlotte for the Meineke Car Care Bowl. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. And despite the irritation I felt at times while watching the Temple game, that probably won’t be the case this year, either.

Something else I remember thinking last year– this time, during the Connecticut game– was that never has such a dominating performance been so frustrating. “Dominating” might not be the first word that comes to mind when you look back at the Temple game, but statistically it was. Navy outgained Temple 439-273, including a 361-74 edge on the ground. Kaipo and Shun White both ran for 100+ yards. Navy only punted once all night, and that was after a 3rd down play that should have been called pass interference. So why didn’t it seem like Navy was dominating as much as the stats reflect?

The obvious answer is that the offense turned the ball over twice. The first fumble was the result of a missed block by Reggie, giving a Temple cornerback a clean shot at Zerb as he caught the pitch from Kaipo. The second fumble was by Adam Ballard, who dropped the ball as he was fighting for extra yards. Both turnovers had a huge impact. Zerb’s fumble was recovered at the Navy 12 and set up a Temple touchdown. Ballard’s fumble was on the first drive of the second half as Navy crossed into Temple territory and led to a field goal for the Owls. Both plays were a huge momentum shift on a rare night where Temple actually had fans at the game.

Joe Bellino said during the radio broadcast that he thought that PJ was holding back the offense. We all know that PJ is very conscious of what he’s putting on film, and with Rutgers coming up this week I’m sure that it’s a possibility. Temple deserves credit, though. They are clearly a better team than they were a year ago. They have more freshmen and sophomores on their two-deep than most schools have on their scout team. Maybe the Mids went into the game thinking that. If that’s the case, Temple played well enough that they won’t make that mistake again. 

OK, that’s enough gushing over a defense that gave up 30 points and 361 rushing yards.

Defensively, Navy didn’t exactly impress. Temple running backs had some sizable holes to run through, and their receivers found themselves in wide open spaces way too often. That’s going to happen occasionally with the soft zone that Navy uses to eliminate big plays. If you’re going to sit back in zone coverage, though, you had better tackle well. On Friday, Navy did not. Particularly annoying was making Temple quarterback Adam DiMichele look like the second coming of Fran Tarkenton. Navy was actually able to get some pressure on him once in a while (thanks in part to an excellent push from Nate “Not Deacon Jones” Frazier), but he either covered himself with lard before the game or Navy just did a horrible job of tackling him. When you play with a “bend but don’t break” philosophy, it’s important to make the most of every sack opportunity. The whole idea behind the Navy defense is that if you limit the big play and make the offense take snap after snap on the way down the field, eventually they’ll make a mistake. If the defense can’t capitalize on those mistakes, they won’t stop anyone. 

All in all, it was a comfortable win, but with enough mistakes that the coaches can have a lot to work on in practice this week. Not that this staff wouldn’t be doing that anyway.

Some odds & ends:

-In the radio pregame show, Navy Deputy A.D. Eric Ruden said that Navy has topped 20,000 season ticket sales. We’ve come a long way since the days of having to use the “Great Annapolis Tailgate” to get people to come to Navy games.

-The officiating in the game was terrible. Bad calls went both ways, but the biggest outrage was watching Temple’s offensive linemen and tight ends literally tackle Navy linebackers all night. Take a look at the two pictures here and here. Do you notice the blockers engaged with arms around the defender, like a big ol’ bear hug? That, ladies and gentlemen, is called “holding.” If we’re taking the same officiating crew with us to Rutgers next week, then we’ve got problems.

-About the only thing as bad as the officiating was whoever was calling the plays for Al Golden’s offense. Temple offensive coordinator George DeLeone is the senior man on their coaching staff, but if he was calling the plays on Friday night they sure didn’t reflect that. When PJ calls his game, he makes it clear that he’ll keep doing the same thing until the defense proves that they can stop it. If Temple had taken the same approach, the game might have been closer. It seemed at times like Temple could have nickel and dimed their way down the field all night with their short passing game. But as soon as they’d get a little momentum that way, Temple would run some kind of sweep or swing pass or something that Navy would promptly stuff. It isn’t always the players that make mistakes when you limit big plays and force the offense to make long drives down the field. Sometimes it’s the coaches.

Birddog Game Balls

-Paul Johnson: PJ was given an actual game ball for his 100th win. He’s getting a Birddog game ball for outcoaching Al Golden so badly that it’s almost embarassing. It wasn’t just playcalling, it was game management. The best example came in the 2nd quarter. On 4th & 1 from the Navy 37, Johnson left the offense on the field. Golden was caught off guard, and had to call his final timeout of the half to set his defense. Not having a timeout left had a huge impact on Navy’s next drive, when Golden was unable to challenge a very questionable pass from Kaipo to Zerb for a 21-yard gain. That play put the ball on the Temple 30, and the drive ended in a Navy touchdown.

Golden’s staff is one of the youngest in I-A. On Friday, it showed.

-Greg Sudderth: I like giving a game ball to the guy who throws the best block, and this week it’s Greg. If he’s always as angry as he looked when he mauled some poor Temple defender on Kaipo’s 44-yard TD run in the first quarter, then I hope he seeks counseling. After the season.

-Shun White: It isn’t just that he ran for 122 yards; it’s how he did it. Shun averaged 15 yards a carry by combining power and some awesome moves. Shun knew when it was time to run through guys and when it was time to run around them. Defenses are going to key in on Reggie and Adam Ballard this year, and Shun’s going to get the ball because of it. He made the most of it on Friday, and that’s a good sign.

-Matt Harmon: Matt had three field goals, including a 43-yarder and a 23-yarder from a tough angle. His kickoffs were pretty good too, including one touchback.

-Matt Wimsatt: Seven tackles, a sack, and a game-ending interception. That’s a solid night’s work.