STEVE LOVE

Author,  Award-Winning Journalist and Proud Oklahoman

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash 

And so, the run-game discussion, begun in “Don’t Sleep on the Browns’ Old-School Run Game,” continues (Blog Post 11/16/20) and, to my way of thinking, is advanced by two minds for keen analysis, one local, the other national. After a review of their long- and short-form observations, I’ll call Jet Sweep Reverse and take off to the opposite field.

Neither Tony Grossi of The Land on Demand.com nor Benjamin Hoffman of The New York Times worships analytics. Grossi dips deep into Cleveland Browns’ history to underpin his conclusions of the run game and to pose an interesting question, and Hoffman, picking winners against the spread in this week’s National Football League games, slips into the mind of the great Paul Brown for his view, if without saying so.

After reviewing the Browns’ fourth-quarter drive to a 10-7 victory over the Houston Texans in a gale, Grossi reminded us the Browns did not once put the ball in the air. Keeping feet firmly on the ground, the Browns went from the shadow of their own goal line to cusp of Houston’s. Grossi, with a supportive quote from Coach Kevin “Run-Boy-Run” Stefanski, succinctly summed up that wind, rain, and maybe little hell—uh, hail—made the forward pass impractical. He then dug deep into Browns’ annals to remind and/or inform those of us who may have forgotten that the Browns had done this before. For an entire game during 1951, their very first season when derision was regularly heaped upon them, which sounds a lot like recent years, the Browns won a game without a single pass. They threw one but it was ruled null and void by a penalty.

That probably was OK with Paul Brown, because in a second meeting with the Philadelphia Eagles—Sunday’s opponent—he had set out to make a point. In the team’s first-ever NFL game after ruling the All-America Conference for four seasons, Cleveland, despite the derision, had humbled the Eagles, the two-time defending champion, 35-10, and Philly Coach Earl “Greasy” Neal had whined: “All they do is pass and trap. They’re like a basketball team the way they throw the ball around.” Which is what a team might since future Hall of Famer Otto Graham was its quarterback.

When the team met for the second time, in the rain on an already muddy Municipal Stadium field, Brown was determined, given the conditions, to make Neal eat his words, perhaps with a mudball topper. “It was a grandstand play,” Brown told author Jack Clary who wrote PB: The Paul Brown Story, “but I wanted to prove we could win the hard way.”

The Browns, of course, when coached by the man whose name they proudly carried, could win the hard way, the easy way, in fact almost any way. Paul Brown whom another author, George Cantor, wrote a book about that referred to him in its subtitle as “The Man Who Invented Modern Football” may have been too modest in his assessment. All of which prompted Grossi to ask whether a game could be played without an official pass today, something that had happened four times before 1950 but never again.

Hoffman, in favoring the Browns to cover the 3.5 points by which they were favored, explained how they should go about it, regardless of conditions: “The Browns (6-3) would do well to just fun the ball all day with Nick Chubb and Kareem Hunt and let their defense take advantage of a few mistakes. Keep the score low and tack on another victory, just as Cleveland did last week against Houston.”

If you read my previous post regarding the run game, you know my affinity for it. But, unlike many in the Cleveland precincts—and some national authorities—my opinion is not based on a negative or even skeptical view of quarterback Baker Mayfield. These critics believe the team cannot pass and therefore must run to survive, if not thrive. My opinion is that instead of relying so heavily on analytics, the numbers that rule the game today, the Browns should look further outside the box—and I don’t mean the defensive area behind the line of scrimmage that can get as crowded as a pre-COVID 19 subway. The team needs to add a larger dose of imagination to how it supports its quarterback.

One line of thinking seems to be that because the multiple administrations have, over time, upgraded the offensive line—GREATLY—added receivers with Pro Bowl histories, put together the best one-two running punch in the NFL and even added a fullback/H-back to block, that Mayfield has everything he needs. He doesn’t, and as much of an improvement as Kevin Stefanski is over recent coaches ill-suited to lead a team there is the missing element of what Mayfield needs to thrive and an inability to imagine it.

Stefanski brought zone blocking for a run-game emphasis with him from Minnesota, and in order for it work most effectively, play action that can fool a defense by making runs and passes look alike requires the quarterback most often to be under center in order to execute run-pass option fakes. As good an offensive scheme as this can be, it reduces use of the shotgun and/or pistol (QB positioned nearer the line) that, based on his history, has best suited Baker Mayfield. Mayfield is a shorter (6 feet-plus) quarterback. He sees the field best and finds throwing lanes most quickly by working off the line of scrimmage, something he did with such great success at Oklahoma he won the Heisman Trophy and caught the eye of former general manager John Dorsey.

When asked about the success of the pistol against Houston, Stefanski indicated he was at least mulling over integrating more often into his game-plans. Not so Alex van Pelt, the offensive coordinator. He was dismissive, scoffing at such gimmickry. That is not the attitude of someone thinking like an innovator or at least a willing adapter. There are good examples in the NFL—Baltimore’s John Harbaugh has found a way to take advantage Lamar Jackson, a mold-breaking QB—and in college.

Oklahoma’s Lincoln Riley, who learned the Air Raid offense from Mike Leach at Texas Tech (and Leach learned from Hal Mumme), fitted the attack to his quarterback—first Mayfield, then Kyler Murray, then Jalen Hurts, transfers all, and now redshirt freshman Spencer Rattler. The quarterbacks differed in their abilities. The continuity came from a coach with an imagination, the ability to adapt, and a willingness to do so.

Sounds a lot like Paul Brown to me and not so much like the remains of his old team.