The headline for this game could almost be one of those ‘ESPN 30 for 30’ episodes. “What if I told you the historic quarterback duel, would be no duel at all?” Billed as the final high noon showdown between Tom Brady and Peyton Manning, two of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game, Sunday’s AFC Championship instead transformed into a defensive slugfest with both defenses pinning back their ears and teeing off on the two future Hall-of-Fame signal callers. It was nasty, old school, pre-rule changes, violent,1970s style football. Safe pockets, easy first downs and wide open receivers were replaced by gang tackles, sacks and bone crunching hits. It was clear early on that this game was going to be won by the guys that don’t show up on your Draft Kings fantasy roster.
Which defense walked away with the accolades was going to be determined by the final score. If the Patriots had won, Monday would have been a day of praise for Matt Patricia’s defensive foot soldiers. New England’s defense decimated the Broncos’ running game, harassed Peyton Manning and completely shut down Denver’s offense in the 2nd half. It was arguably the best defensive game the Patriots have played in years. If they won that’s what we would be talking about.
But they didn’t win.
Instead the glory will be reserved for Denver’s D, which entered the game as the number one ranked unit in football and more than lived up to that title. They were smart and ferocious, like a well-disciplined hurricane. Wade Phillips dialed up the ideal game plan and the players executed it to perfection. It was awesome. Their coverages were smothering, their tackling flawless and their pass rush was……where do I begin? It would take two pages and a well-armed thesaurus to describe how they rushed the passer: relentless, determined, unblockable, intimidating, hungry, unforgiving, dominant, record-setting, vicious and, above all else, game-changing. And not “game-changing” in the tired, cliche sense that has come to define the term, but in the very literal sense. Denver’s pass rush completely took control of Sunday’s championship game, affecting each and every aspect of what the Patriots did. It changed their, play-calling, pass protection, coaching strategy and mental psyche.
That last one may have been where the Patriots felt it most. Denver’s pass rush not only shattered any semblance of confidence on New England’s offensive line, it managed to do the unthinkable: rattle Tom Brady. As far as athletes go, Brady is as cool as they come. We’re talking Steve McQueen-level cool. And I’m not referring to the photoshoots, the supermodel wife and the designer clothes, that make his postgame press conferences look like an ad for Dolce Gabbana. I’m talking strictly on the field. Between that white chalk, Brady is in total command. Fueled by tireless preparation, years of experience and a confidence built on unprecedented success, Brady projects as a man able to handle anything thrown at him on a football field. And no matter how hard you hit him or try to confuse him that confidence rarely wanes.
But it did yesterday.
For stretches of the game Brady looked lost. His trademark decisiveness and certitude were transformed into a timid confusion normally reserved for the Andy Daltons and Brian Hoyers of the world. Passes were bounced, open receivers were missed and mistakes were made. Bad mistakes. Most notably an inexcusable interception to Von Miller deep in Patriots’ territory that set up Denver’s second touchdown. And there was something else missing. An intangible that is hard to define but clear to see for those of us that have watched virtually every Brady snap for the last 15 years. Brady’s signature fire was almost nonexistent. At times he looked almost docile. Brady typically spends a good portion of games barking at teammates, whining to refs (sorry guys but it’s true) and sparring with coaches. It is not always the most appealing manifestation, but if you know Brady you know it is the image of a man driven by competition and motivated by an almost maniacal pursuit of perfection.
But not yesterday.
Maybe it was the lack of production or maybe it was the repeated trips to Denver’s turf, whatever the reason, that vintage Brady passion had been replaced by something that was very un-Brady: doubt. And it was written all over the blank stare on his face. It was as if Brady’s unique vantage point told him, long before the rest of us knew, that Denver’s D was throwing something at his offense that they simply could not handle. Something that a hundred meetings with Josh McDaniels wasn’t going to solve.
While the Denver pass rush was the star of the game an assist has to go to the 77,112 rabid fans at Mile High (sponsor name purposely omitted); the near deafening crowd noise gave the Patriots fits all game and played a major role in reducing New England’s offensive line into a collection of turnstiles. The Patriots’ O-Line, a group that consisted largely of backups, rookies and a one-legged Sebastian Vollmer, was dominated by a Denver front four that repeatedly took advantage of the silent snap count, a technique used by most visiting teams in loud stadiums. Pass rushers Von Miller and DeMarcus Ware were particularly effective at anticipating New England’s silent snap count, and at times looked like they were running pass rush drills against orange cones. They combined for 3 sacks and a staggering 11 QB hits. They spent so much time in New England’s backfield Bob Kraft could have charged them rent.
This of course casts a dark shadow over Belichick’s bizarre and foolish decision to all but concede home field advantage week 17 against Miami. If you recall that was the game when the Patriots, despite starting their All-Pro quarterback, decided to dust off an old game plan of the ‘85 Oklahoma Sooners and run the ball on 16 of their first 18 plays. Belichick’s half-ass “I sort of want to win but I also want to stay healthy” muddled strategy cost New England the game, and more importantly, home-field advantage throughout the playoffs. It was the reason yesterday’s game was in Denver. It was the reason the Bronco’s pass rush had a historic day. It was the reason Edelman and Amendola were forced to play on the slow sod of Denver and not the fast track at Gillette. It was the reason Rob Gronkowski wasn’t on the field for a key red zone possession and instead was on the sideline sucking on an oxygen tank while some guy worked the back of his legs with a rolling pin. In other words, it was the difference between winning and losing.
To the Patriots credit, in a game where a lot of teams would have waved the white flag, New England never stopped coming. The tone of the rally was set with the defense. Almost as if sensing that the offense was in full-blown panic mode, New England’s D went on the attack after halftime. They single-handedly kept the Patriots in the game, allowing just three 2nd half points. All of that set the stage for Brady. Withstanding a 4th quarter onslaught that made it look like he was playing quarterback in the middle of the Mass Pike, Brady led New England to three consecutive 50+ yard drives, finally breaking through with a touchdown on the Patriots’ final drive.
That touchdown drive was highlighted by a pass that might have been the best throw of Brady’s illustrious career. With 1:34 left in the game the Patriots faced a 4th and 10 from midfield. If they didn’t convert the game was over. Brady had missed on his previous six passes. On that play Brady dropped back and under relentless pressure, threw a pass deep down the middle of the field to Gronkowski, who had two defenders draped all over him. The ball floated downfield and dropped just over Gronkowski’s shoulder for a first down. On a difficulty scale of 1 to 10 the pass was about a 30. Had New England won, it was the kind of play that would have been immortalized by NFL Films. An instant addition to the Tom Brady career highlight reel. In defeat, however, the pass is nothing but a footnote. Just one of many plays that will soon fade from the memory of the NFL collective.
Brady’s final two passes were emblematic of his entire afternoon. Once again on 4th down, and once again with his offensive line failing him, Brady found Gronkowski in the back of the end zone for a potential game-tying touchdown. It was another play high in difficulty and low in probability. But because of a crucial missed extra point by Stephen Gostkowski in the first half, the Patriots’ needed two points to force overtime.
Brady and the Patriots needed one more miracle.
On the two-point conversion Brady took the snap and immediately moved right on a designed rollout. At the same moment Gronkowski, in single coverage, broke free near the corner of the end zone. Yet Brady inexplicably ignored what would have been a relatively easy throw to Gronkowski and instead threw across his body to Edelman in double-coverage. The pass was easily defended by the Broncos. This was one Patriot comeback that would come up one play short.
It was a baffling decision by Brady not to throw to Gronk. What was he thinking? How do you not throw it to your number one red zone target and the only receiver that had done anything all game? Did he not see him? And if not, how do you possibly miss a 6’6” target like Gronk? These are questions that will likely haunt Brady and the Patriots for the offseason and beyond.
There was, however, plenty of blame to go around on this one. Belichick and his staff were completely outcoached. Gostkowski missed his first extra point of the season. Jaime Collins, despite playing a phenomenal game, blew two coverages in the first half, both of which resulted in touchdowns. Brady’s receivers failed to gain any separation and Amendola had a key drop. And then there was the offensive line. Literally the entire unit failed to show up. It was the ‘07 Super Bowl all over again.
But soon all of that will fade, and the details will be long forgotten. All anyone will remember is that Manning beat Brady and that Denver advanced to the Super Bowl. The pangs of regret and the torturous process of pouring over every near miss and reliving every what-if will be left only to the players, coaches and fans of the team that lost.
Such is life in the NFL playoffs.