Welcome back to another edition of Football Morning in Columbia, where KCOU’s Quentin Corpuel highlights the week’s best, worst and everything in-between from the NFL
Front page headline
Inevitability prevails once more
When NFL football returned to Baltimore in 1996, the team needed a name. After a few rounds of fan voting, “Ravens” emerged victorious. The origin of “Ravens” traces back to legendary poet and Baltimorean Edgar Allan Poe, whose most famous poem is titled “The Raven”. It’s a longer poem, so I’ll just link it here if you want to indulge.
In summary, the poem is about Allen Poe grappling with the death of his wife, Lenore. As the poem progresses, Allen Poe slowly loses his sanity, as he cannot fully accept Lenore’s departure from his life, both physically and spiritually.
In a sense, this is exactly what happened in M&T Bank Stadium on Sunday. If we made crossovers between the poem and the football game, Allen Poe would be Ravens fans, Lenore would be the Ravens, and the Chiefs would be death.
Entering Sunday, the Ravens were soaring. This was the best version of themselves since Lamar Jackson entered the league. Jackson had his passing abilities fully unlocked with a new offense that sported the best set of skill players he’d ever had, and he’ll likely win his second MVP award soon. The Ravens were able to win in so many different ways on both sides of the ball, something that their previous Jackson era iterations couldn’t say. They not only beat a bunch of good teams; they smashed them. In 13 total games against teams with winning records, Baltimore won by a combined score of 381-196. This team didn’t have many weaknesses, and their strengths seemed to be stronger than anyone else’s in the league.
And for most of the 60 minutes, I watched the purple-colored faithful slowly lose their sanity as their beloved Ravens completely fell apart and died.
A lot of it had to do with self-inflicted mistakes. The Ravens committed eight penalties for 95 penalty yards. They turned the ball over thr times for just the second time this season; one of which wiped away what would’ve been a touchdown (Flowers fumble), one set up Kansas City at Baltimore’s 25-yard line (Jackson sack fumble), and the last one sealed the game (Jackson INT into triple coverage, which was more of an underthrow than a bad decision). Not only that, they failed to keep Mahomes & Co. off the field (time of possession favored KC by exactly 15 minutes), which has usually been the best defense against the Chiefs. Essentially, the Ravens gave death even more opportunities to kill them which, against the Chiefs, has been a historically bad idea.
What was also baffling was Todd Monken’s complete desertion of the run game. Gus Edwards and Justice Hill carried the ball a combined five times the entire game despite it being close for most of the way.
But a lot of it did have to do with the inevitability of death winning out by itself.
At the beginning of this game, it felt like we could see one of the greatest games of all-time when this:
Was followed up by this:
I will forever remember that period of time where we all thought to ourselves that this game might go down as one of the greatest ever. Two MVP quarterbacks dueling like myths with so much on the line. It was going to be a beautiful display of both teams doing mystical shit for 60 minutes.
And then the Chiefs sat on the Ravens.
After Isiah Pacheco capped off a 16-play, 75-yard drive with a two-yard rushing score to put the Chiefs up 14-7 early in the second quarter, the game went from Kansas City-Baltimore to Nebraska-Maryland. Big Ten football permeated the AFC Championship, as both defenses thwarted offenses that started white-hot. But the Chiefs were able to prevail in the end, as their hot start outweighed Baltimore’s when neither team could find the end zone.
To many, consistent excellence is annoying. Seeing the same team and same players win over and over again gets boring after a while. It’s especially aggravating because the Patriots dynasty ended just a few years ago, and now, we’ve seemingly transitioned into a new AFC favorite taking New England’s place. 12 of the last 22 Super Bowls have featured one or both of Brady and Mahomes. That’s a lot of the same two people!
To me, this has begged the question: at the beginning of every postseason, does God draw an invisible immortality ring around the Chiefs? Is it an Angels in the Outfield situation where divine figures are giving the Chiefs superpowers and protecting Mahomes from harm? And are the only ones who can break that ring Tom Brady a.k.a also God and a healthy Joe Burrow a.k.a almost God? Like, how the heck does this even happen?
After careful inspection, people’s desire to see the Chiefs fall is not because of hatred. Rather, it’s fatigue and envy. I already talked about fatigue, but I would argue that envy is stronger. Look at the life of Travis Kelce, for example. He’s a decorated athlete who returned to his peak self, has a wildly successful podcast with his brother and is dating arguably the most famous person in the world. The genesis of that relationship? A freakin’ friendship bracelet! That’s something middle schoolers do! The amount of bracelets and celebrity crushes that have fallen by the wayside is astronomical; Kelce actually did it, and now, he’s one win away from his third trip to NFL nirvanaland.
That’s another part of this that’s probably annoying for many if the Chiefs win the Super Bowl. In Swift’s first season as a devoted football fan, she’ll have experienced a level of glory that many haven’t and won’t experience over a lifetime. Then, she might write songs about how being a football fan is so lovely and fruitful, thus giving millions of Swifties the wrong idea of what being an NFL fan is like. If she were dating someone like Ryan Tannehill, I think that’d be a little more refreshing from a reality standpoint. Cheering for a middling AFC South team instead of the football Death Star would be more down-to-earth. But that’s a nitpick.
The flip side of all of this, however, is realizing that we’re witnessing all-time greatness. Mahomes is on a trajectory that’ll put him up there with the greatest athletes…ever. After Kansas City won the Super Bowl last season, I compared his resume with other football players at 28 years old, and the only one in the same stratosphere as Mahomes was Tom Brady. He has transcended his own sport; I had to dive into basketball history to find another American team sport athlete that was even remotely as accomplished as Mahomes.
Now, let’s fly across the country and talk about the other game. 49ers 34, Lions 31.
I truly feel for Lions fans. Their first Super Bowl appearance was right there. That first half of football was electric. Amidst Detroit’s early dominance, the following quote flashed on the FOX broadcast.
“He listens to his players and he adapts to what we do well.”
That quote was Jared Goff talking about offensive coordinator Ben Johnson, who was doing exactly that in the first half.
The Lions were able to build a huge lead early in large part because of how much they gashed San Francisco’s exploitable run defense. Per usual, Johnson’s running play calls were diverse. Some saw him put Detroit’s big, mobile and very mean offensive lineman on the move and dialed up run plays to get their playmakers in space. Other times, he called some good ol’ smash mouth football that punched the Niners defensive line in the face almost every time.
The offensive line was playing like Eminem; they destroyed the Niners face-to-face and flipped them off, but with their actions rather than their middle fingers.
But then, for some reason, the running stopped. Sunday saw both offensive coordinators of the losing teams get away from what they could do effectively. Gibbs’ fumble notwithstanding, the Lions faced first or second down a combined eight times from the 8:29 mark in the third quarter until the 8:24 mark in the fourth quarter. Goff threw it six times, completing just two passes for 28 yards (22 came on one play). Now, it’s not like the Lions failed every time when throwing the ball on early downs. But as the bleeding continued, Detroit never really turned to their dominant rushing game despite the score being close throughout.
It’s also hard to ignore how much the ball despised the Lions in the second half. One way to go on a 27-0 scoring run in less than 30 game minutes is to have really goofy stuff happen, like this sure interception bouncing off of Kindle Vildor’s face and into the hands of Brandon Aiyuk for a huge gain over the air:
Add in a first-play fumble from Gibbs, a couple of fourth-down drops by Josh Reynolds, the Niners offense coming alive and a game management goof from Dan Campbell, and the Niners find themselves in the Super Bowl once again. It was truly a series of unfortunate events for a franchise that’s been on a vicious cycle of unfortunate events for decades.
After the game, Campbell told reporters the following.
“I told those guys, ‘This may have been our only shot.’ Do I think that? No. Do I believe that? No,” he said. “However, I know how hard it is to get here. It’ll be twice as hard to get back to this point.”
Harsh? Yes. True? Also yes. Brady and Mahomes make it look easy, but getting to the Super Bowl is beyond difficult. A lot had to go right for the Lions to get to the NFC Championship. Tomorrow is never guaranteed.
Quick(ish) hitters
Patrick Mahomes, balance king
Marques Valdez-Scintillating
The ultimate revenge for an unlikely hero.
Jahmyr Gibbs
The stat sheet won’t say it, but Gibbs continued looking like the sports car of running backs. Check out the acceleration! And the stop/start action!
Awards and superlatives
MVP (Most Valuable Play): L’Jarius Sneed
In tight games like Sunday’s AFC Championship, both teams really try to capitalize on the other being vulnerable. In a clash of two awesome teams whose incredible skill clashes like titans, mortality is usually rare.
So when a ball-carrier commits football sin and extends the ball amidst traffic around the goal-line, that’s one of the highest levels of vulnerability a football player can exude.
And Sneed took full advantage.
Not only that, his presence caused Flowers to pick up a penalty, fumble away a touchdown and cut his hand all in the span of a few minutes. A superstar day for a superstar player.
Ron Burgundy Glass Case of Emotion Award: Zay Flowers
I feel terrible for Zay Flowers. He’d been his team’s best receiver all season and was a big reason why the Ravens were such a different offensive team than in years past.
But that’s not what’s going to be most remembered.
For a brief moment in time, you’re not just holding a ball. You hold the hopes and dreams of an entire city, a massive fanbase desperate for glory. Flowers felt it the first time when he caught a rainbow from Jackson in the end zone for Baltimore’s first score of the game. M&T Bank Stadium erupted then, and they were about to erupt again for Flowers…until Sneed flew in and punched those hopes and dreams away.
Speaking of Flowers…
Rule that needs to leave: Taunting
Should Flowers have shoved Sneed’s head and stood over him like he posterized him in basketball? Absolutely not. According to the taunting rules, Flowers’ actions were a total no-no.
But that’s the thing. In my eyes, eyes that want to see players going at each other like competitors do, taunting should be relaxed a little bit, especially in the playoffs. Let the kids play!
The coolest thing I’ve ever seen: Lamar’s down there somewhere
There’ve only been a handful of recorded instances throughout NFL history of quarterbacks catching their own pass. Few have yielded positive gains, while two have actually seen the QB’s score a touchdown (Brad Johnson in 1997 and Marcus Mariota in 2018).
But in terms of electricity and pure awe, none of them come close to this.
This play required hand-eye coordination, knowledge of the rules, acceleration, determination and a little bit of luck. Not only that, Jackson ran through multiple white jerseys to haul in the gift from the sky. I’m pretty sure he’s the only quarterback in the league who could’ve pulled that off.
Human Rocketship Award: Kyle Hamilton
In the words of a wise lady, that motherf***er is not real!
Double-Edged Sword Decision-Maker: Dan Campbell
Alright, it’s time. Let’s talk about fourth down.
Campbell electing to go for two fourth-downs in field goal range is nothing new. That’s a part of what made his decision to do such a thing multiple times against San Francisco understandable. In the regular season, only the Panthers attempted more fourth downs than the Lions. He didn’t just wake up on Sunday morning feeling aggressive; he’d felt the same way on every previous Sunday this season.
The stat sheet says Detroit went ⅓, but that’s slightly misleading. Their conversion came when the Lions were down 10 with 60 seconds left in regulation at San Fran’s 3-yard line. Translation: they had to go for it. The previous two were voluntary.
In hindsight, it’s easy to say that Campbell’s decisions were poor. Facing a fourth-and-2 at San Fran’s 28-yard line up 14 in the third, Goff’s relatively on-target pass to Josh Reynolds was dropped. Five plays later, the Niners scored a touchdown.
Later in the quarter, facing a fourth-and-3 on San Fran’s 30-yard line down 3 about halfway through the fourth, Ben Johnson called a mesh concept, which is supposed to beat man coverage; the overlapping routes usually cause defenders to run into each other (think of how you would navigate an intersection without stops signs). The only problem was that the Niners were actually in zone coverage, so all of Detroit’s receivers ran right into covered areas. Facing pressure, Goff scrambled to his right and released a lollipop that landed short of Amon-Ra St. Brown. Seven plays and four and a half minutes later, the Niners scored another touchdown.
Did these decisions play a part in Detroit’s defeat? Certainly. The second try is easier to scrutinize because, at that point in the game, the Lions desperately needed points, even if it was just three.
This wasn’t a kicker issue; Michael Badgley (throw them U’s up!) is a perfectly capable kicker who can hit from 50+ yards away.
But this is simply the downside of being aggressive. Sure, had Campbell elected to kick a field goal on even one of those occasions, the game looks completely different. But had the Lions converted on even one of those and scored a touchdown, the game would’ve also looked completely different. Campbell would’ve been praised, whoever made the play would’ve become a legend , and the Lions might be heading to the Super Bowl. It helped get them this far, and to blame them for sticking to it would be insane hindsight bias.
Also, let’s look at the other conference championship game. The Ravens went for it on fourth down inside their own territory twice (once from their own 34 and once from their own 18). The reason you don’t hear a peep about those two plays on Monday? They converted both times.
What isn’t excusable, however, is a decision he made late in the game. Prior to Jameson Williams’ game-extending touchdown, the Lions were faced with third-and-goal at the one-yard line. 65 seconds remained in regulation. Detroit was down 10 and had all three timeouts. That last part is crucial; should the Lions score and give the ball back to the Niners, San Fran wouldn’t be able to just kneel out the clock.
This is where weighing the pros and cons comes in handy. In terms of deciding whether to pass or run, the con of running the ball was far worse than any other non-turnover outcome. If Montgomery was tackled short of the goal-line, Detroit would likely have to use a timeout, which would mean they’d almost have to recover the ensuing onside kick, an almost impossible task to accomplish.
When Goff handed the ball to Montgomery, I got flashbacks. Earlier this season, the Giants had the ball at the Bills’ one-yard line with 14 seconds left in the first half and no timeouts. For some reason, Tyrod Taylor audibled to a run at the line of scrimmage; Saquon Barkley got stonewalled, the Giants couldn’t get lined up in time for another snap, and the half ended.
That’s exactly what happened here. Montgomery was dropped for a loss, and Campbell was forced to use a timeout. Although Williams scored on the next play, it didn’t end up mattering too much, as the Niners recovered the onside kick and eventually knelt out the clock.
Campbell’s aggressiveness came back to bite him, but I don’t think he would’ve had it any other way.