Same Boat (2)

(Brad Nessler) — CBS Play-by-Play

Like Coach said last night, this championship game had to be about us — not Alabama.

It meant stop worrying about the opponent.

Because what mattered was entirely up to us.

Since last year's National Championship, we had gone through spring, summer, and fall as winners, and now we meant to bring the era of Alabama — the program that had dominated the SEC for over a decade — to a complete and permanent end.

One loss can be brushed off as a fluke, something that simply happens sometimes. But two losses in a row becomes a definite message.

It being a neutral site and the SEC Championship, our entrance had been routine — but in front of my teammates, I made sure the message landed loud and clear.

"I'M HIM!!!"

"I'M HIM!!!!"

That short sentence had become a viral meme in no time.

Influencers, celebrities, famous athletes — all of them posted it on their own social media.

If you asked me how it felt to watch people imitate a trend I started — not that I invented it, but still — I'd tell them it felt way better than I expected.

Truly.

It made my shoulders puff up for good reason.

"When we walk out of here tonight!! What are we?!!"

"CHAMPIONS!!!"

"I CAN'T HEAR ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠YOU!! WHAT?!!!"

"CHAMPIONS!!!"

"WHO?!!"

"WE!!!!"

"WHAT?!!!"

"CHAMPIONS!!!"

I'd rehearsed today's Hype Speech with my teammates beforehand.

There was no way to speak to all eighty-three of them individually, so I'd passed the word to the leader of each position group.

I'd wondered if the energy would actually catch — and it was absolutely cooking.

"LET'S GO!!!!"

Gathered near the sideline, we hammered away at the shoulders and helmets of the guys beside us, kept howling at the top of our lungs, trying to drive the pressure into the opponent before kickoff.

One thing was certain: this year's Alabama clearly didn't show the same cohesion as last year's.

A slight lack of leadership, maybe?

They weren't knitted together the way we were.

Clipboard in hand, I kept roaming from group to group raising my voice, and when I reached where the defense had gathered, I told them to rip Bryce Young to shreds.

Make their quarterback miserable, I added — make it so that kid doesn't so much as dare glance at our defensive players.

"MAKE HIM MISERABLE!!"

"YEAH!!!"

By the time I'd made the full circuit and come back to my spot, Coach, who'd been watching me for a while, walked over and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Aren't you burning up a little too fast?"

"It's exactly right."

"Haha. That's good leadership."

"I do have a certain expertise in handling primitives, you know."

"Still good leadership."

"I could go for another round in an hour."

"You're on."

"Yes, Sir."

Whatever the first half's result turned out to be, I planned to raise my voice in front of my teammates once more after halftime.

Three games left, counting today's.

The SEC Championship.

The Bowl.

The National Championship.

The twelve wins we'd racked up so far had been the process of earning the right to play the games that mattered most.

We couldn't get drunk on the success we'd had up to yesterday.

Because starting today, it was a completely different world.

What Coach had said earlier — nothing comes for free.

A cliché, sure. But it was true exactly as it stood.

"Come on, offense first. Come on, offense first."

I waited for Jordan to come back from the coin toss and tell us we'd receive — and from far away, the kid raised both hands and made a circle above his head.

"YES!! That's what I'm talking about!!"

Going first isn't everything in football, but I was confident I could seize the initiative right out of the gate, so I wanted to start on offense.

Not that anyone else had a clue.

I'd been saving a little something up my sleeve, you see.

Pure, uncut quarterbacking ability.

Today, I intended to shift that gear up a notch.

If I'd been in Nick Saban's shoes, I would have grabbed #2 by the collar and said exactly one thing to him.

Dumb-ass.

On our opening play — a simple feeling-out run — James shook off the incoming defender with a gorgeous stiff-arm and picked up an easy first down.

With several defenders swarming him, he was already heading for the sideline himself, but bless his heart, #2 gifted us fifteen yards with an unnecessary personal foul.

A drive that started at our own 26-yard line had reached midfield in a mere thirteen seconds.

Now then. Time to see how they respond.

With James Cook still at my side, Coach sent out George and AD, plus Brock and Ladd, as receivers.

He was probably thinking the same thing I was.

Let's see Alabama's reaction.

Moments like this put me in a good mood.

Because it meant Coach and I were looking at the same thing.

"Gun! Left swing! Double jet! Y-shallow spider!"

Clap!

For now, the plan was to let the receivers run free.

James Cook would serve as the fullback.

It was a standard shotgun formation rather than an RPO, so on the left swing, James Cook would protect my right side.

All right, then.

Let's take a look.

"Go Red 80!! Ready!! Set!!"

The snap arrived, and as the lines knotted up at the line of scrimmage, Alabama's linebackers all dropped back.

"…."

Alabama's secondary had chosen man coverage, latching onto all four of our receivers.

In front of them, though, the three linebackers had formed a zone, walling off the passing lanes.

Normally, with a scheme like that, a defense would fake a blitz — slipping a linebacker into the A-gaps of the D-line as if to send him crashing in — and then drop back, all smoke and mirrors.

But this was a very honest defense right now, and I understood the message it was sending in an instant.

That said, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was that.

First, I had to deal with the ball.

Throwing into this situation carried far too much risk, so I sprinted away from the direction our O-linemen were driving the opposing D-line.

As I took off scrambling, the quick-witted James Cook immediately took off with me.

This right here is what makes him good.

As a pure workhorse back, Zamir is far more talented — but while he can run the rock, it's hard to hand him a variety of tactical roles.

Until last year, Zamir was still the team's No. 1 running back, but that hierarchy flipped once this season began.

Through summer and fall camp, James Cook and I had synced up in all sorts of ways, and thanks to that, he could now do everything the team needed better than Zamir could.

Even right now — if it had been Zamir or Kenny back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there, the play would have ended the moment the fullback assignment was done.

This kind of run-blocking simply wouldn't have been there.

Alabama's linebackers had dropped deep at the snap, which let me carve into the space behind the line of scrimmage ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without much trouble and pick up extra yards.

Just before #10, charging at me head-on, could collide with me, I slid and ended the play first.

First down?

Yep.

I'd cleared the marker planted at the sideline.

With Alabama's penalty added on, we had marched forty yards without a single pass in just thirty-one seconds.

First & 10 again.

This time, 1-2 PG.

Ladd and AD lined up on the left at slot and Z-receiver respectively, while George took his best spot on the right.

Alabama, meanwhile, placed two linebackers between their front four, applying pressure — a clear hint that a blitz was coming.

Would they come transparently again this time?

Or was it a feint?

Under center.

Pressed tight against the line of scrimmage, I strained to read the expressions and body language of the Alabama players.

One free safety back there deep.

And two defenders at each corner.

The instant I called the play, the free safety sitting in the right nickel spot dropped back.

At the same time, the free safety slid to the opposite side.

Alabama's pre-snap movement was handing me a flood of information.

The right nickel was a decoy.

He was back-end coverage from the start.

And the free safety went the other way — toward the side with two of our receivers?

The conclusion was simple.

The deep free safety would take one of the two — whether AD or Ladd — while the defender furthest back would handle the receiver nearer the sideline.

That left the nickel corner they'd stationed over there, and my bet was that he'd be the one blitzing me.

A corner blitz.

How dare they.

In the half-second between tapping Sedrick's hip and taking the snap, I packed all of it into my head and broke it down.

Honestly, it wasn't anything special.

Any quarterback good enough to thrive at a mid-tier NFL level or above can process this much — unless, of course, he's a double-threat guy.

After taking the ball and turning my back to the defense—

I faked the handoff to Zamir.

Then, the moment I squared my shoulders, I calmly fixed my eyes on a spot where no defender should be, glancing slightly right to confirm Brock was running his route full tilt.

Pure luck that it matched up — but either way, the play call sending Brock on the Shallow Route had hit the mark.

I whipped my right arm forward and let the pass fly, and sure enough, Alabama's nickel — who had charged straight at me — came in for the tackle.

THUD!

A heavy impact slammed into my utterly exposed torso, and I went straight over backward with it.

But my eyes stayed locked on the ball to the very end.

What was the result?

What do you think.

To a football newbie, this sport is simply hard and complicated — and sometimes outright boring.

Then, once you reach the rank of casual fan, you start understanding the positions.

But the real beauty of football lies in how well the quarterback and the middle linebacker digest the play calls barked in from both sidelines — and, in turn, how well they dismantle the opponent's.

That's why quarterbacks have to have every play and every route committed to memory, front to back.

When you pick up information like a nickel corner coming on a blitz, like a moment ago, you have to think ahead of time about which receiver will anticipate the defense's shift and break into the open space.

So you can throw the ball?

No.

That's not it.

Throwing to Brock like I just did is the safest option, sure — but it's a far cry from a big play.

The greatest benefit of mapping out the defenders' and receivers' paths, and every change that will ripple across the field because of them, is that it lets you keep deceiving the defense over and over.

The quarterback is the most watched position on the field.

Which means everyone is watching.

And that includes the opposing defenders.

"Go Red 80!!"

Shotgun again.

The backfield was empty.

The five O-linemen and two tight ends — Brock and Darnell — were all I had to lean on, and while they bought me time, I had to pray the connection with my receivers came through.

Spreading four receivers wide was the same as the second drive — but everything else was different.

This time, Alabama had stationed two linebackers at the outside shoulders of their defensive linemen.

A blitz form attacking the edges rather than the gaps — and again, there was no telling whether they'd charge at me or drop back into coverage.

There was also the option of splitting the O-linemen's attention with the outside linebackers, then using the tackle to open a gap and push an edge rusher wide.

Pressuring the quarterback with the defenders lined at both ends of the D-line is called a pass rush.

So.

Yeah.

Totally different from before.

"Ready—!! Set!!"

The snap from Sedrick flew to a perfect spot, and Alabama tried to bring the blitz off the left edge — but Peter sealed it shut flawlessly.

The pocket held without much trouble, and in that instant I noticed Alabama's numbers on the left looked thin.

By the alignment from earlier, there should have been three — but my eyes counted only two.

Had he slipped back into my blind spot?

Could be.

But if he had, I'd have been tackled by now.

Why?

Because Jamaree was working his tail off blocking.

If that #10 I'd spotted earlier had charged at me, Jamaree would have been the first one to latch onto him.

So, two defenders on the left meant—

#10 had dropped back.

Which meant targeting the side where Jermaine and George were lined up on the left was not the right read.

But I looked left anyway.

And why?

To fool them.

The instant my eyes went left, Alabama's defenders could believe their strategy had worked.

The corners were too busy chasing receivers, but the nearby D-linemen and linebackers — and the safeties peering down at me from the deepest part of the field, trying to diagnose the pass — those I could deceive.

I didn't need to look at the true target on the right.

I'd called that route myself, after all.

I even had a feel for where he'd be.

Whenever I ran a passing concept like this with an empty backfield, I always tapped the football against my left palm to set the timing.

One Mississippi.

Tap.

Two Mississippi.

Tap.

Part of it was keeping my own passing rhythm — but it was also how I tracked the positions of the receivers outside my field of vision.

Like I said before: a quarterback memorizes his receivers' stride length.

Ladd, my first target, opened at a 0.9-yard stride, stretching up to around 1.4 yards once he built speed racing the defender.

He typically covered seven to nine yards in about two and a half seconds of sprinting — which meant that by now, he should be easing back toward the middle.

"…."

Bingo.

And this eye game was also meant to pin Alabama's #8 in place; because I'd looked left from the very beginning, Ladd got to meet his matchup one-on-one.

He'd carved out a far better position than the corner covering him, and once I confirmed it, I chose to let it fly.

Ladd hit the Quick Slant and hauled in my pass perfectly, ran a few more yards, and went down just inside the ten.

After confirming the play, I smacked my palms together, and Ladd popped right up, flexing every muscle he owned and letting out a huge roar.

First & Goal.

Alabama's defense was, without question, the strongest we'd faced all year — but we were still closing in on the end zone at a blistering pace.

The attack kept coming.

1-3 PG.

Making no attempt to hide our intent to punch it straight up the gut, we snapped the ball immediately, and once again I ran the play action before delivering the pass to Brock, who glided out of the line of scrimmage untouched.

With a touchdown scored barely three minutes and eight seconds into the game, one corner of the stands began shaking to its foundations.

Instead of running to Brock, the O-linemen got to me first and showered me with congratulations, and I fired right back at them, spitting out taunts aimed at Alabama.

"I've seen every one of your plays?! I can see everything you're going to do!!"

A 6-0 lead built in a flash.

And there was still so much left to show.