I’m not going to pat myself on the back for being the only one of my colleagues here at The Sports Column to correctly pick the winner of Super Bowl XLIX (though I was), because frankly, I didn’t want to be right. Am I a Seahawks fan? No. Am I a Patriots fan? Hell No!
And that about sums it up. That 4-letter word makes all the difference; and is just one of many 4-letter words that permeated the air above University of Phoenix stadium Sunday evening when undrafted rookie corner Malcolm Butler beat Seahawks WR Ricardo Lockette to the ball for the play of the game, and his life. In the days that have followed what will likely be looked back on as one of the greatest Super Bowls of all time, the narrative has been about the curious play call.
“What in the world were they thinking?!” seems to be the general consensus when discussing the second down pass play that resulted in the interception that ended Seattle’s chance to repeat. As I watched it happen in real time, I’ll admit that was my reaction as well. How can you make that call with Marshawn Lynch in the backfield and just one yard to go? Since then, I’ve rewatched that play a hundred times if I’ve watched it once and I’ve softened my stance just a bit. I still disagree, 100% with the exact play that was called, however I do not disagree with the idea of a pass play in that situation.
As much as it pains me to admit it, the story that should be talked about here is the incredible defensive play that Butler made; not the terrible offensive decision of the Seahawks. Before the now-infamous second down play, teams had thrown the ball 108 times from the opponents’ 1 yard line this season, resulting in zero interceptions. Granted, the stats say that teams that run the ball from the 1 yard line have a slightly higher touchdown percentage than the teams that throw it, but 0-108 is pretty glaring. That tells me that Butler’s play was not only extremely uncommon, it was damn close to impossible.
I think we can all agree that despite the result of this one particular throw, the idea of a pass play was not all that dangerous. I mean in the 108 previous attempts, the pass was either completed or fell harmlessly to the ground. In fact, with 26 seconds left in the game and one timeout remaining, second down was the only real opportunity to catch the defense off guard with a pass. If the Seahawks run the ball in that spot and don’t score, they then have to use that final timeout to stop the clock and are forced to draw up a pass play on the next down. Everyone in the stadium, including the 11 Patriots on defense was preparing for a Marshawn Lynch run, so I can see how a sneak-attack pass could be effective.
Alright, I’ve defended the idea of a pass long enough; it’s time to get to my biggest problem with this crucial play call. If the world is expecting a run; give them what they want…sort of. In football jargon, it’s called “play-action”. Perhaps you are more familiar with elementary school playground jargon; in which case, “haha, I faked you out!” That’s it. That’s my problem with Pete Carroll or Darrell Bevell or whoever made the call; why not fake the handoff to Lynch, causing that entire Pats’ defense to succumb to their instinctive forward lean, and then roll Wilson out for a chance to make a play, either with his arm or his legs.
If you’re looking for the most likely scenarios in that situation; the first is that Doug Baldwin or Luke Willson is open in the endzone, since all 11 defenders are piled on top of each other on the goal line like logs in a bonfire. Scenario two is that somehow the Patriots corners sniff out the fake and retreat to cover their assignments, leaving Russell Wilson to take off for a 1 yard sashay into the endzone. Finally, the least likely scenario results in the fake not working at all, leaving all receivers covered and linebackers converging on Wilson; at which point he calmly lobs the ball into the 4th row. None of these options involve Wilson fitting the ball through traffic into a window just big enough to fit a properly inflated football.
Again, worst case scenario is Wilson is forced to throw the ball away and the Seahawks live to play another down. You’ve still got your timeout and about 20 seconds to play with and you can still take two shots at the goal line with Beast Mode. At the end of the day though, the plan nearly worked to perfection if not for a rookie cornerback making the play of his career. Malcolm Butler may never become a shut-down corner in this league. He may not make a Pro Bowl or land a big-time contract. He may not even be playing three years from now for all we know. But no matter what direction his career takes from here, no one will be able to take away that fact that he was responsible for the Patriots Super Bowl XLIX victory. And that’s what the story should be.