The Walsh Method of Evaluating Offensive Tackles

A quick look at Bill Walsh's coaching tree is evidence enough of the late coach's football genius. The modern NFL owes much of its coaching philosophy to Walsh, and though he clearly shaped today's coaching landscape by forging efficient leaders, he is remembered mostly for his true genius on the chalkboard. Few coaches can claim to have changed the game as much as Walsh, who – along with Sam Wyche, George Seifert, and others – helped to shape the West Coast concepts that still flavor nearly every team's offensive playbook today.

Walsh is a celebrated coach indeed, yet one of his most admired qualities was a truly impressive ability to stay ahead of the curve. His 1998 book, Finding the Winning Edge, is still heralded as football's holy scripture mostly due to Walsh's incredibly detailed view of how to run a successful organization (though it is sadly now out of print). Many of his predictions about the modern NFL are spot on; for example, he wrote that many teams in the 90's shied away from a 3-4 defense, but argued that popularity of defensive systems is cyclical, so he expected teams to eventually return to the 3-4. (Which they most certainly did.)

He also led the way with extremely accurate and effective personnel evaluation. In Finding the Winning Edge, Walsh defined the exact characteristics a player needed to exhibit to enjoy success in his 49ers organization. Once I got my hands on a copy of the prolific tome, I was especially interested in his section on offensive linemen. Specifically, I was curious to see how this "Walsh Method" holds up in today's league, with today's linemen.


Walsh outlined the various strengths that he looked for in offensive tackles; are those same qualities as important in today's league?


For each position, I'll offer a summary of his argument, followed by my analysis of how it holds up in 2012. First in the series of posts is offensive tackle. Let's take a look:

Offensive Tackle

Walsh's take:

He acknowledges the increasing weight of tackles, but says that getting up to 330 pounds or more is unnecessary. Players who weigh that much "...play well in spite of weighing 330, not because of it. The only apparent benefit of weighing that much is to attract the attention of the television camera crew" (p. 125). There are certainly players in this weight range who are successful, but Walsh believes they might enhance their performance by dropping weight. His "ideal size" for a tackle is listed at 6'4", 310 pounds.

Bubba Paris is one of the examples Bill Walsh gives
 of an ideal offensive tackle.

According to Walsh, the one absolutely essential physical trait for this position is girth. (ed. note: "girth" is not defined explicitly by Walsh. My best definition is "having a naturally large bone structure, especially in the hips, thighs and shoulders.") Strength, agility and body control rank right underneath girth as priorities, not necessarily in that order.

Long arms are also important to gain leverage. A tackle's ability to move within a 2-yard by 2-yard box is critical since the large majority of their most important duties take place in that box. This can be coached to an extent, but players without natural ability in this box won't be able to accomplish as much.

Another aspect of the tackle's play that can be coached is the timing and execution of blocks, although once again, much of this comes naturally to a good player.

Next is adaptability. Walsh saw the 1990s as a new era in offensive line play, in that the increased complexity of NFL defenses meant the tackle now had to deal with three or four possible scenarios, whereas there used to be only one or two possibilities to anticipate. An example of this would be a LB blitzing from the outside while the DE who was expected to rush drops into coverage instead. The modern offensive tackle, Walsh argues, must be able to recognize these variations immediately and react accordingly.

The last key point Walsh makes about tackles is a psychological one. More than most of the other positions on the field, they must have an extremely high level of confidence and self-control in order to be able to stay composed when things go wrong on the field.

Analysis:

I could not agree with Walsh more on his last two points. A successful NFL offensive tackle must be incredibly smart and quick-thinking, yet highly stable psychologically. He can never be too "up" or "down." Whereas certain positions (mostly defensive) can just "get angry" and up their level of play, the offensive tackle will quickly make mistakes if he gets too amped – or conversely, dejected – and leaves his ideal mental zone.

Joe Thomas is a prime example of intelligence, adaptability,
 and agility at the tackle position in today's NFL.

Adaptability is even more important now than in 1998. Wide receivers are arguably more physically dominant today than they were when Walsh coached, so defenses rely on increased pressure to even the playing field. To do this, they throw increasingly complicated stems, stunts, and blitzes at the offensive line in an effort to confuse them and thus diminish the potential role of Calvin Johnson-esque receivers. Consequently, offensive linemen who are able to recognize and adapt to the plethora of defensive looks they see are more valuable than ever.

Their ability to recognize a blitz is important, but if they cannot physically match up with the agility of elite pass rushers, today's tackles are essentially useless. Pass protection schemes now often rely on sending a running back or tight end to "chip" a pass rusher (read: give him a shot right in the windpipe) before they head off into a route, thereby making the tackle's job easier. If an offense doesn't need to involve skill players in pass protection as much because their tackles are agile in that 2x2 yard box, then they have more freedom in their passing schemes.

Walsh's point on weight might be his most contentious, though. If he was correct that tackles didn't need to weigh 330 pounds back then, Since Finding the Winning Edge was published in 1998, the average weight of NFL offensive tackles ballooned up from 311 pounds to 320 in 2000. Since then, it has hovered around the 'teens and 20's. 

He lists the 1997 NFC Pro Bowlers as such:

Lomas Brown – Arizona Cardinals (6'4" 275 lbs.)

Willie Roaf – New Orleans Saints (6'5" 300 lbs.)

Erik Williams – Dallas Cowboys (6'6" 324 lbs.)

Now, here are the 2012 NFC Pro Bowlers:

Jason Peters – Philadelphia Eagles (6'4" 340 lbs.)

Joe Staley – San Francisco 49ers (6'5" 315 lbs.)

Jermon Bushrod – New Orleans Saints (6'5" 315 lbs.)

Granted, the sample size here is fairly small (the number of men, not the men themselves), so the heights and weights listed are not statistically significant. Nevertheless, we can see from the short list of gifted tackles who played 15 years apart – a long time in the NFL – that Walsh is correct in identifying natural girth as the most basic requirement of a great tackle. In today's game, a tackle under 6'4" has little chance of succeeding.  

But can weighing over 330 pounds be detrimental to a tackle's ultimate potential?

Jermon Bushrod - 6'5" 315 lbs.

Jason Peters - 6'4" 340 lbs.

Above are two of last year's Pro Bowlers. On the left is Jermon Bushrod, while Jason Peters is on the right. Keep in mind that both of these men are elite offensive tackles. Bushrod is slightly larger (1 inch taller, 10 pounds heavier) than Walsh's "ideal" tackle, while Peters is significantly heavier.

Both men are Pro Bowlers because they possess a natural girth in bone structure, and they developed power and agility over the course of their careers. Bushrod especially has long arms, which is advantageous because it allows him to create separation from defenders in pass protection.

The logical sequence for this analysis is to declare one of these players "better" than the other. However, I can't necessarily agree with Walsh's point. Having played every offensive line position at various weights, the best way I can sum up my modification of Walsh's argument is this:

In most cases, playing over 330 does not hurt a tackle's ultimate potential. It just makes him a different type of player.

For me (granted, a shorter player than either of the above gentlemen) it was difficult to really push linemen around at 250 or 260. Once I got up in the 285 range, run blocking became significantly easier. Conversely, my agility on downfield blocks was affected (you guessed it) negatively. Staying on linebackers once I reached them became more difficult. Blocking safeties and corners became a comically futile lumbering struggle.

Hence, playing at different weight levels creates a slightly different skill set based on the player. I'd be more likely to feature Bushrod in an offense with lots of zone rushing and bootlegs, so he could set the point on defensive ends and make blocks downfield. A player with Bushrod's build would generally also be the more agile pass protector, and would be more capable of taking on elite pass rushers without help from a tight end or running back. Conversely, Peters is more naturally suited for a power running game, yet that does not preclude him from being a great zone blocker or pass protector.


This brings me to what I see as Walsh's most important point, and that is the extent to which these various types of blocks come naturally to linemen. To give a personal example, I developed a natural feel for pass protection over time thanks to lots of coaching and countless reps in practice and games; it just made sense to me physically in a way that other types of blocking didn't. I never really figured out the footwork necessary to stay on downfield run blocks, despite intense study and repetition.


Therefore, I don't believe in Walsh's blanket statement that tackles weighing 330-plus should drop weight. For those who are naturally skilled in certain types of blocking, playing at a higher weight emphasizes their strengths and allows the offensive coordinator to lean upon those strengths in his gameplan. In today's league, 330 isn't nearly as massive as it was to Walsh in 1998. Yet other skills and values – mindset, adaptability, agility – are more important now than ever. It seems that once again, Walsh was ahead of the curve.

Using Empty Protection with a Y-Stick Concept

When teams choose to use empty protection in the pass game, the offensive line is under more pressure than usual. Essentially, empty pro (also sometimes referred to as "big on big") is a pass protection concept that only involves the offensive line.

Most pass plays involve an extra blocker; teams either keep the running back or tight end in to pass protect (or have him at least chip a defender while leaving for a route), or motion in a slotted tight end to help out. There are plenty of creative ways to protect the quarterback on pass plays, but empty protection is by far the riskiest.

That's why it's nice to tie empty protection in with a good route combination that will come open early, especially if the defense blitzes. The Y-Stick concept is popular among Air Raid and Pro Style offenses alike, and it's a perfect match with empty pro. Let's take a look at why this is so effective:

The video used in making these images is courtesy of ESPN.

This is the count of men in protection versus potential rushers. The running back will be free releasing for a potential checkdown throw, so it's five on five. This count doesn't necessarily have any correspondence, meaning offensive player #1 might not block defender #1.

This count simply allows the offensive line to say, "Here are the five guys we're prioritizing in our protection." They're the most immediate threats, which is why the center (blocker #3) points out the will linebacker (defender #5) rather than the backer next to him. #5 is the innermost defender that isn't actually on the line, so he's the most dangerous of the two inside linebackers.

Here are the route combos on the play. I drew up all the routes to show the concept in full, but we're most concerned about the circled player, or the Y. For terminology purposes, the Y is a tight end (in this case he's flexed out). Some teams might call this guy an "A" rather than a Y, but that's a semantics discussion that doesn't really need to take place here.

As you can see, the cornerbacks are playing off their receivers; this means the defense could be playing man coverage or cover 4 zone, but the coverage hasn't really been tipped yet. However, they don't appear to be looking at the quarterback; rather, the corners and safeties seem focused on individual threats. This would indicate man coverage, but we can't be completely sure before the play starts.

This is called a "Y-Stick" concept because the circled Y is running a stick route. He's driving just past five yards, then making a speed break inside to face the quarterback while still moving towards the sideline. The Y-Stick and the release from the running back combine to work well with empty protection.

The quarterback's read is fairly simple. If the defense brings the house, throw the Y-stick immediately. If the Y is covered but there's still a considerable rush, throw the drag or dump the ball off to the running back. If the defense doesn't bring many rushers, wait for one of the developing routes to come open.

Just prior to the snap, the Will linebacker (who was #5 in the rush count) walks up to the line. This keeps him as a top-priority potential rusher. Had the Mike backer (the circled player) walked up instead, he would have replaced his cohort in the offensive line's presnap count.

However, the Mike's weight is pretty heavy on his toes; he definitely looks ready to blitz as well. The offensive line and the quarterback see this, but for now they're more concerned with the players in the yellow square.

The o-line doesn't have too many rules on this protection, except to block the first five rushers inside-out. This means inside rushers are a greater threat because they're closer to the quarterback. If a sixth rusher comes, the offensive line can't do anything; the quarterback has to recognize the extra rusher and throw to the (presumably) open receiver.

Here's the same play from an endzone angle right after the snap. The left tackle #59 recognizes that, in fact, both linebackers have decided to blitz. He leaves the defensive end that was lined up outside of him, because by the time that defensive end makes it to the quarterback the ball will be out.

The left guard (#73) and center (#57) are preparing to pass twisting pass rushers to each other. The rushers might have lined up in one gap, but by looping and changing their route to the quarterback, they hope to create confusion among the o-line and break one of their rushers free. #73 and #57 need to work together in order to ensure they both block the man who ends up in their respective areas.

Here is the play a split-second later, right before the quarterback makes his throw. The left side of the offensive line has done an admirable job adjusting to the blitz.

Since the defense ended up playing man coverage, the right defensive end dropped off to cover the running back. As a result, the right tackle (#70) is coming back inside to help. Pass protection is all about "bumping" your fellow offensive lineman off a player so that he can take someone else. #70 is hoping to bump the right guard (#64) off to the blitzing linebacker.

Meanwhile, the left tackle (#59) and left guard (#73) picked up the twisting players and allowed the outermost rusher to come unblocked, since he won't get to the quarterback before the ball is out. The center (#53) is passing off a defensive lineman to #73, then getting ready to pick up the late blitzing backer.

In a perfect world, everyone on the o-line would have ended up taking the man to his left; however, this is still a very good empty pass pro adjustment. #70 had no way of knowing the defensive end would drop in coverage, and in a quick passing situation the offensive line would rather block the man to the Y-Stick side so he can't jump up to bat the ball down.

Before any blitzers can arrive, the ball is already out. This is an excellent play to accommodate the blitz, because it gives the quarterback plenty of quick options without having to keep an extra player in protection. His first two choices here would be the Y-Stick and the drag coming from the left slot player, with the running back's free release established as a third choice checkdown route.

Since the defense had a man blitz on, throwing the Y-stick is an obvious decision. The defender manned up on the Y was a safety; as you can see in the above image, he's five yards away, allowing the receiver to get a first down.

Empty protection is perfect for quick passing concepts like the Y-stick, since it gives the quarterback a couple of seconds while allowing for more passing options. However, the offensive line's empty protection needs to be as good as Houston's on this specific play. The unit must be saavy enough to read pre-play keys, then react to twists and late blitzes. If the o-line is capable, this protection/route concept is a great addition to any offense.

Beyond the Wildcat: The Single Wing's Potential Role in Modern Football

The single wing is similar to the flexbone in that it allows high school and college coaches to get the most out of versatile personnel. The triple option requires a fast, smart quarterback who can make split-second decisions that are (more often than not) correct.

Likewise, the single wing requires a superstar fullback who can essentially “do it all”. Plenty of high schools still run the single wing, but it is often regarded as a gimmicky offense that relies on a defense’s inability to prepare. However, at the higher levels of football, nearly all hints of the single wing disappeared for many years.

The La Center High School Wildcats in Washington used a single wing derivative offense in the late ‘90s, which essentially began the tradition of “Wildcat” offensive formations in football. Gus Malzahn and David Lee made the wildcat fairly well-known around 2006 while they were offensive coordinators at Arkansas.

Above: The Miami Dolphins brought the Wildcat to the NFL, but they haven't done much with it since.

The formation exploded in popularity when Lee took a QB coach job with the Miami Dolphins and helped them incorporate the Wildcat. Beginning in the third game of that season, the Dolphins deployed the new aspect of their offense with great success. Since then, the Wildcat has spread across the NFL and the NCAA; nowadays it is expected of a coaching staff to have a Wildcat package to diversify their offensive attacks.

In my opinion, most coaches view the Wildcat as trendy and necessary, but they use it halfheartedly. It is a situational formation for most teams, and many NFL clubs deploy it maybe two plays per game. Thus, I believe that more Wildcat innovation could (and should) be the next major trend in football at all levels. As it stands, the base Wildcat formation looks like this for most college and NFL teams:

The play almost invariably starts with a jet sweep motion from the left wingback, or a zone read involving the left running back. The RB behind the center catches the snap, gives or fakes the jet sweep, and then runs right or left. He might have the option to throw the ball downfield, but rarely does (because he is a running back). I don’t understand why there is such a lack in creativity coming from a formation that is essentially limitless.

Teams also tend to leave their original quarterback split out at wide receiver even if they didn’t start the play with him behind center (followed by a shift). I understand an offensive coordinator would want the element of surprise – quarterback heads out towards the sideline when the huddle breaks – but at that point he becomes a useless player. I would rather sacrifice the slight advantage in making defenders react quickly to the formation change, because I prefer having the advantage of a player who can actually contribute on the play.

I believe that a more “throwback” single wing formation can be utilized in a way that also encompasses the more modern aspects of football. First off, the formation would look like this:

Above is a more traditional single wing formation. It may seem somewhat out of date even to coaches using the Wildcat, but I believe it can have a place in football. First, one of the two “running backs” behind center should be the actual quarterback; he should be able to keep the ball on passing plays so the offense doesn’t ever rely on less-skilled passers.

The quarterback and tailback are split; no one is directly behind the center. This isn't a problem, as any college or NFL center worth his salt would be able to complete a directional snap with just a bit of practice. This split look can create an advantage with an unbalanced line, placing either the quarterback or runningback into a more favorable position behind additional blockers.

This base formation can actually do quite a bit if emphasis is placed on different motions and play fakes in order to get a numerical advantage over the defense. The defense might see this offensive set and shift to account for its absurd stack to the right, but I would suggest creative motioning (wingbacks, fullbacks, even tackles) in order to outnumber the defense for power runs and jet sweeps. The zone read even fits nicely here.

I believe that as a football philosophy, the Wildcat is underutilized and lacking in creativity. Considering that teams have used draft picks on athletic quarterbacks that could be "a wildcat guy," startlingly few of these players are used with any effectiveness when they truly could be effective. Why spend a draft pick on a guy who plays maybe a snap or two, and doesn't even play on special teams units?

A formation such as the one above could be advantageous for offenses, but only if teams buy into using it as a significant aspect of their offense. Part of the problem with Wildcat packages now is that they receive little practice time, and therefore little trust during a game’s crucial moments. I hope and expect that this will change fairly soon.

Goodell's lengthened reign will be littered with tough decisions

Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker James Harrison told Men’s Journal last July he wouldn’t piss on National Football League Commissioner Roger Goodell if the man was on fire. Harrison’s teammate, Ryan Clark, recently told CBS Sports “I’m not going to sit across from [Goodell] unless they handcuff me. Which is probably the next step anyway.”

Goodell is clearly reviled by the players he oversees, but apparently that doesn’t bother team owners in the slightest.

Above: It could be a long road ahead for Goodell and Player's Association leader DeMaurice Smith.

The NFL recently announced it would extend his contract through March 2019. Although he was incredibly unpopular with fans and players during the 4 ½ month lockout, Goodell helped the organization through difficult times to see of its most financially successful seasons ever.

The league’s triumph this year was evident in its TV numbers. 23 of the 25 highest-rated television broadcasts last fall were NFL games, and as a result total NFL national media revenues might reach $7 billion annually thanks to a 60% price hike for rights to televise games. Not too shabby from our boy Roger.

There’s a blindingly bright economic future in store for the NFL, but if the next seven years sound like a breeze for Goodell, they won’t be.

Assuming that America isn’t ruled by the Chinese and/or cyborgs by March 2019, the NFL could potentially have much more trouble at hand than another looming collective bargaining agreement.

Though the league will most likely continue to teeter on borderline class warfare between highly compensated athletes and grossly overcompensated owners, the biggest issue threatening the league’s future prosperity is its ambivalence about player safety.

Above: James Harrison was fined and suspended one game for this hit on Colt McCoy. Should he have been?

In an attempt to promote player safety, the NFL recently began fining pros for what it sees as violations of its “Player Safety Rules.” These fines include, but are not limited to, horse collar tackles, late hits, spearing, blindside blocks, low blocks, hits on defenseless players, and “Impermissible Use of the Helmet.”

The problem with many of these fines is that their corresponding violations are not black and white. For example, a facemask penalty is easily definable; the offender either grabs another player’s facemask or he doesn’t.

Hits on defenseless players aren’t so clear-cut, since “defenseless” is a relatively subjective term. When a defender gets ready to hit a receiver coming across the middle, the receiver might reach and miss the ball a split-second before the defender arrives. That defender cannot be expected to change his course of action within an impossibly small time frame.

Furthermore, many of these calls are at the referee’s discretion.  Defensive players are often found guilty of “impermissible use of the helmet” penalties and fines for hitting a running back head-on. This is an especially serious problem, since many times the defender’s helmet is placed properly; the running back lowers his helmet to strive for a few more yards, yet his team gets a 15-yard advantage for the “penalty”.


Fines are levied if the league reviews a play and finds that an athlete is violating their safety rules. Most players find Goodell's paycheck cleaver unjust, and none seem determined to change the way they play.

Above: Ray Lewis says his $20,000 fine won't affect how he plays football.

I think the thing is, you definitely respect them trying to protect players' safety, but at the same time, it won't change the way I play in this league, no matter what the fine is," Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis told the Baltimore Sun after he received a $20,000 fine. "If the receiver has the ball, it's your job to disengage him from the ball."


The problem at hand is that Goodell et al want to stave off any criticism from those who believe football is dangerous by dispensing annoying (but not livelihood-threatening) punishments. Football can be hazardous, but NFL players aren't held in the league against their will. The game is high-risk with vast rewards, and every last athlete understands the tradeoff.


Slapping fines on players won't do anything but anger them further. Either make serious, sport-altering rule changes -- which would most likely hurt football's popularity -- or let the game be played the way it was before Goodell arrived as commissioner. The NFL is a big business with willing participants. Like any healthy corporate environment, there shouldn't be any grey areas.