Clancy Pendergast isn't the only madman with a headset. Ken Whisenhunt and offensive coordinator Todd Haley know how to unleash a little unbridled creativity of their own.

Washington 7 - Arizona 0

3-2-ARZ 47 (5:42)

Cards/Skins break

What do you call this? A "V" formation? We'll call it that. What's interesting about the V is that it's essentially a five wide receiver set. Two on the line, one recessed at flanker and two playing split back. Either split back could rush, but the spacing is such that the run would be heavily delayed or an Anquan Boldin end around. The defensive line can pin its ears back, i.e. target a gap, employ pass rush techniques and abandon gap responsibility. And they do.

The play design is already clear.

(1)   Levi Brown pulls right.

(2)   Big white guy Jerheme Urban (#85) picks up Brown's man, situational end Demetric Evans. Don't let the shot fool you, Urban is not dominating Evans - it's a stunt.

(3)   Deuce Lutui holds down Lorenzo Alexander.

(4)   Steve Breaston pulls out to engage Leigh Torrence

(5)   Boldin gets his mean on staring down Carlos Rogers

(6)   Tim Hightower turns and awaits Kurt Warner's pass

(7)   Split end Larry Fitzgerald plays decoy.

It's a screen. A kooky, mixed up, six-parts brilliant screen.

What a play.

(1)   Boldin plows Rogers like powder

(2)   Urban keeps Evans out of it with a sustained, barely legal block

(3)   Lutui fells Alexander eliminating backside pursuit

(4)   And from the fog starts Hightower with

(5)   Six lead blockers and two unblocked Redskins to beat.

The play goes for six yards and the first, confirming my fear that this offense would frighten featuring a feature back. Hightower cuts in too fast, achieving the all-important first down but sacrificing a Panamanian canal along the right sideline.

Hold your hats kids. The Cardinals split the series in 2007 in two games that evidenced Arizona's superior and more modern coaching, but Seattle's talent advantage. After a little decline and a rash of injuries, that talent gap has closed or reversed, while the coaching gap grows wider by the play.

When Jim Zorn left Seattle, he exported Mike Holmgren's offense intact. That gives fans a chance to scout at a level not typically possible. Let's go.

1^st Qtr Notes

Mad Man Clancy Pendgergast: Mad? Mad Genius? Pendgergast has achieved a bit of a cult following. Funny then that his defenses are consistently mediocre. That's part talent, but Rod Graves is known for letting his coaches run the show. Part of it might be that creativity, or more appropriately oddity, is often praised without consideration for quality. In the first quarter, Pendergast mostly contained himself. When he didn't, he fed his defense to the wolves.

Arizona's base defense was a 3-4. When facing 3+ receivers, they'd typically option into a peculiar 3-3. Three down linemen shifted offensive left. Three linebackers with the left nearly parallel to the defensive line, the middle middle-deep, and the left deep. Sort of like this.

In total, facing 21 plays by Washington's offense, Arizona went 3-3 seven times and 3-4 nine. That's a bit of a different way to run a 3-3, but it's not wacky. This is.

Wacky or wacked, that is.

Washington 0 - Arizona 0

2-3-ARI 3 (8:33)

Redskins split 3 WR, TE, Rb. The Cardinals in 2-4. Arizona's formation is mucho unbalanced, with five Cardinals, a lineman and four linebackers, offensive right or center-right. At the snap, Jason Campbell hands to Clinton Portis, Portis runs right, cuts left and trots into the end zone untouched. Inside linebacker Carlos Dansby is forced to control two gaps, and when Portis cuts against his blockers, Dansby is at a disadvantage he just can't recover from.

It's a weird play call and more mad than genius. A disciplined offense with a savvy cutback rusher exploited Pendergast's early gambit. Seattle must do likewise when Pendergast dials up the weird: Stay assignment correct, stick to the play and look for the flaw.

Levi Brown: Seattle doesn't have Patrick Kerney to depants Brown, but Darryl Tapp can pull the belt loops too if he gets the chance.

Brown is a powerful in-line blocker, just don't get outside his window. In their second showdown, Kerney lived outside his window, making Brown look foolish with effortless edge rush. The Cardinals have done their best to protect Brown, strapping a tight end to his side and hoping doubling his width will stop ends from circling him like flies. They've failed. On a team that's allowed just 16 sacks, Brown accounts for a staggering 7.5. I think that needs an exclamation point, like I'm shouting it at you in a growly Batman voice.

On a team that's allowed just 16 sacks, Brown accounts for a staggering 7.5!

In Kerney's absence, Tapp mans the left. Tapp is a better pure edge rusher than Kerney. He doesn't have Kerney's motor, or half his hand fighting skills, but off the line, around the ball carrier and inside, Tapp is a superior speed rusher to Kerney. What Tapp can't do is easily shed tight ends. Tapp and situational end Julian Peterson must maximize four wide receiver sets. Tapp must get the inside move working. Should he, Seattle might have the kind of game changing mismatch that helped Calvin Pace and the Jets bring out the worst in Kurt Warner.

Any idiot could have called this mismatch. I've yet to find the idiot who thought it would be in Miami's favor. But so it is; Advanced NFL Stats gives the Dolphins an 84% chance of winning. There's a fatalistic part of me that still holds out hope for this season, but my thinking self is already pondering 2009.

I spoke a bit about "Tim Ruskell's team". Tim Ruskell's team was obliterated on Sunday. 27-7 may not be the most lopsided score you've ever seen, but Seattle survived on the caprice of turnovers. If we remove that least steady element of performance, a more desperate picture appears.

Seattle averaged 18.3 yards per drive. Awful. That's inflated by Koren Robinson's 90 yard reception to start the game. After that oasis, Seattle averaged only 12.3 yards per drive. Seattle earned ten first downs total, less than a first down per drive.

Seattle's defense dominated the first quarter, allowing only 16.2 yard per drive to an Eagles' offense averaging 32.1. Seattle couldn't keep them off the field and eventually the dam broke. Given thirteen drives to score and against an offense without an answer, Marty Mornhinweg called a conservative offense knowing from the start that time was on his side.

Starting last season I started accumulating tape on every future opponent I could find. That way I could run previews detailing opposing talent, scheme, specific plays and how matchups will work in each. Sometime after the Packers throttled the Seahawks, I decided if I was going to make it through this season I'd need to take it down a notch. Scouting two teams a week led to some 2am to 6pm days I'm still not recovered from. So I never got a good look at the Dolphins.

In absence of really knowing Seattle's next opponent, here're two things Seattle itself must do to salvage this season and make a run next season.

Continue coverage after applying pressure

How important is this? See San Francisco at Seattle versus Seattle at San Francisco. In the former, the second the play broke down, O'Sullivan was flushed or the pocket collapsed, Seattle's secondary would stop coverage. When Seattle's rush didn't wrap J.T. O'Sullivan, O'Sullivan picked apart Seattle's lagging secondary. This is a failing of the coaches. In the second matchup, Seattle didn't achieve its customary Qwest Field sack-o-rama, but it did prevent long plays on the other 44 pass attempts. You could see O'Sullivan and later Shaun Hill escaping pressure but instead of finding an open man they were forced to throw away, eat it or force the ball into coverage. The difference was striking.

Know your damn assignment

Seattle has been awash with embarrassing lapses all season: Missing outside containment, missing blocking assignments, failing to engage the lead blocker, failing to read your blockers, quitting on pass rushes, quitting on routes, screwing up coverage - and that's just the ones I've seen. That's bad coaching in action. At some point, Seattle's players need to step up and play straight if for nothing but pride. I've yet to see a true leader arise on this defense. Lofa Tatupu was gifted the job after playing like wolverine for three seasons, but a leader must be more than a rah-rah, snap to whistle guy, and halfway into this season a true ass-chewer is needed. It's time some teammates' figurative heads are busted.

This preview was put together by Scruffy and I. It's a look at how Jim Johnson's defenses create confusion and target weaknesses.

The Philadelphia Eagles' DVOA is 38.6%.

The Seattle Seahawks DVOA is -19.0%.

Advanced Football Stats gives Seattle a 14% chance of winning.

I used to run a series of articles analysing the statistical "matchups" in that week's contest. I've since abandoned it because I don't buy its method or accuracy and think it "succeeded" a bit by throwing it all against the wall and hoping people remember what stuck. But on this day when I haven't the time to do it right, I thought I'd revisit that thinking and offer three stastical "mismatches" that could just save Seattle's season.

First, Seattle's two productive receivers, its tight end John Carlson and fullback Leonard Weaver, match Phillies weakest links in pass coverage.

John Carlson: 20.0% (14th)

Philly D defending TEs: 27.4% (25th)

Leonard Weaver: 42.8% (8th)

Philly D defending RBs: 32.1% (29th)

The short passing game returned last week, and that's a least partly because of Seneca Wallace. People who see Wallace as only the inferior backup to Matt Hasselbeck miss that this season Wallace has outperformed Hasselbeck throwing short, evading pass rush and throwing deep. A week ago, neither Julius Jones nor Leonard Weaver had positive receiving value, now they are the spark that could ignite this dormant pass offense.

And second, not so much a mismatch as get out of jail free card.

Seattle D defending #1 receivers: 60.5% (31st)

No fan needs that stat explained, but here's the twist.

Eagles #1 Receiver DeSean Jackson: -5.9% (54th)

How is it that Jackson, perhaps the most impactful rookie in this year's class, the best receiver on a passing offense that's jumped 10 places and 20.6% DVOA, is a below average per play receiver? Well, it has a little do to with the flawed nature of individual DVOA and a little to do with Jackson's inconsistency and garbage yards. But for a Seattle team that's made every #1 receiver look like Torry Holt circa 2001, hope, however flawed, is sweeter than wild cherries.

In week 2, Seattle benefited greatly from Mike Nolan's Big Sub package. For a running game that's improved at the "pulling" but less so the "pull blocking", Nolan's 4-2 was a Godsend. If Mike Singletary can do anything in this abbreviated week, or undo anything, it's Nolan's crippling over-management. A simple 4-3 would do wonders. That makes a matchup Seattle won against the Niners in week one much more of a...mismatch.

Patrick Willis recorded six run tackles against the Hawks of 7, 8, 7, 12, 2 and 8 yards. Two were successful stops, though one "success" set up a field goal. That's the definition of garbage tackles. I've learned not to blame the player for the outcome. A tackle is typically a good play by the player regardless if bad execution by the defense made the play istelf successful. I.e., if Patrick Willis tackled a rusher 40 yards down field, it's an unsuccessful play by the defense, but Willis' tackle could have prevented 'x' more yards or the score.

Chris Spencer had something to do with Seattle's success rushing the ball, and also Willis' high tackle total. In Seattle's new look rushing attack, Spencer first purpose is to pull straight and block out the middle linebacker. Seattle was successful rushing against San Francisco, and thensome, but Spencer himself was often overmatched by Willis. He could get there, and given San Francisco's depleted second level, that was often enough, but he couldn't contain Willis. Spencer blew three blocks, each against Willis, and each truncated an otherwise long run by allowing Willis to get back into the play.

This play typifies their exchange.

1-10-SEA 48 (3:56) 22-J.Jones left tackle to SF 44 for 8 yards (52-P.Willis, 32-M.Lewis).

Seattle breaks in their surrogate base offense, WR, TE (left), WR (right), I-backs. The 49ers in a nickel variant of their Big Sub with Allan Rossum walked in as a defacto right outside linebacker. He's not, though. He's not an outside linebacker. He's a cornerback. At the snap, Seattle runs an off-tackle play that turns into a rush behind left tackle. Walter Jones pulls out wide, the motion draws Rossum outside. John Carlson and Seattle's remaining four linemen block their opposing assignments: Carlson on Justin Smith, Mike Wahle on Aubrayo Franklin, Floyd Womack on Isaac Sopoaga, Ray Willis on Ray McDonald and Chris Spencer into the second level on Patrick Willis. All but Womack and Spencer succeed. Womack falls off Sopoaga, Sopoaga closes but is unable to tackle Jones. Despite the broken tackle, Jones is slowed. Spencer gets a pristine pull, bumps Willis, but doesn't tie up or lock down, allowing Willis to recover, shade offensive left and cutoff the outside. Michael Lewis breaks from the third level, contains offensive right and the two combine for the tackle.

Had Spencer locked down Willis, Jones had a clean line to the third level. Because Willis was able to get back into the play, Jones was stopped after a gain of eight. This week, in a similar situation, Willis will be the middle linebacker with an outside linebacker on either side. That could mean the difference between Spencer pulling six yards to meet Willis, and Spencer pulling 3 yards to meet Willis. An aggressive Willis, backed up, bracketed, assisted, abetted or whatever can shed that block and stop the rush for little gain. Spencer has been good, but not on a level that can consistently contain Willis, and should Spencer flop, allow Willis to get his perpetual tackle machine rolling, Seattle's rushing attack could sputter and onus for its offense again fall on--

It's too horrible to utter.

The problem with an offensive philosophy older than or as old as most NFL players is that the league has had a long time to develop counter-strategies. If the earliest roots of the West Coast Offense date back 40 years to Bill Walsh serving under Paul Brown, its counter could bear children or gran-chillen in Missoura. And predictably, Kiffin and Dungy's Tampa 2 hales from the heart of Gerry Ford's rambling preamble to Jimmy Carter's stagflation: 1975. The Steel Curtain Era of the NFL, dominated by Bud Carson's warriors and simple defensive schemes geared towards sheer physical dominance. When Kiffin and Dungy did their modern reinterpretation of Carson's Curtain, the essence was retained: Simplicity and execution.

A lot like Mike Holmgren's West Coast.

In this rivalry, Dungy and Kiffin rule the day...s. Over 11 contests, in seven separate seasons, adjusted for both Holmgren's strength of offense and Dungy's strength of defense, Holmgren's offenses have scored only 86% of expected points. Since a week one walloping in Dungy's first game as a head coach, Holmgren has never scored more than 23 points. Here's why.

The Walsh offense is built to spread the field horizontally. An emphasis on drags, slants, speed outs, curls, running back flares or flats and other routes that run across but not down the field.

The benefit is two fold. It creates high percentage receptions that propels an offense methodically towards the end zone and it drives safeties and linebackers wide, opening rush lanes. In Holmgren's west coast, the run is the payoff play.

If a quarterback's completion percentage dips, run after the catch is limited or a defense's linebackers and safeties retain gap responsibility, the offense is greatly weakened.

That's how the Tampa 2 wins in four steps.

First, receivers are jammed coming off the line. The disrupted timing causes routes to develop too slowly or not together and lowers completion percentage.

Second, the emphasis on short zones and tackling minimize yards after the catch.

Third, the emphasis on short zones increases the chance of a cornerback pick 6

And fourth, a simplified gap control scheme keeps linebackers true to their assignment and away from vacating gaps and allowing big rushing gains.

The strategy takes its toll, and Holmgren's offense looks slow, inexplosive and demoralized.

This is a brief look at Tampa's offense. We'll talk Monte Kiffen's still very Tampa 2 defense tomorrow. I know the Bucs have diverged a bit from the Dungy-era regimented Tampa 2 (Gasp! A blitz), but the foundation is still there and the underpinnings of Chuck Knoll, Bud Carson, Tony Dungy and Monty Kiffen's brainchild are still intact. This is brief because I'm blasted tired, apologies.

Midway through the 2007 season I internally rooted for two things: Mike Holmgren to retire, and the Bucs to crumble. Am I a "hater"? Well maybe, but I have no beef against that other pirate themed NFL team.  I wanted Jon Gruden to be fired, and Seattle to scoop up the man I think is the best coach in the NFL. He eludes the veneration of Bill Belicheck or Tony Dungy, but Gruden was never gifted a Tom  Brady or Peyton Manning. In fact, Gruden is the genius of game manager quarterbacks. Under him they are granted wisdom, accuracy and out of nowhere great seasons. Well not great, but great for the likes of Johnson, Johnson, Gannon, Griese, Simms and Garcia.

It's the offense baby. The current Nth version of the West Coast excels at taking steak`ums and making steak. In a way, Tampa's offense looks a bit like Seattle's was supposed to, modest but serviceable and supporting a great defense. The skill of the skill positions is concentrated in the running backs, but Tampa has a steady possession receiver with serious first down props. Ike Hilliard's 17 first downs in 23 receptions recall the Bobby Engram of 2001-2002.

The key is clever play calling and an offensive line that buys time even when allowing sacks. Under Jon Gruden, you may get sacked like Naples, but you will throw for an over 60% completion percentage. It's a curious system within which Brian Griese once completed almost 70% of his passes, and only blunderbuss-armed Jeff George truly defied its completion percentage boosting methodology. It's a curious system that creates statistical anomalies like 5.1 yards after the catch for a receiver that averages just 10.2 yards per catch. It's a curious system that creates statistical anomalies like a 70% reception percentage coupled with a -12.4 DVOA. Both anomalies belong to the notorious Michael Clayton. Howdeydodat? Routes that involve about 15 cuts over five yards. The receiver gets open; from there it's anyone's guess. That maximization of the receiver is a huge part of why Gruden's system works. The quarterback's aren't playing better, the receivers are, as evidenced by the high RAC.

Personally, I think it's kind of cool. Another mark of Gruden's system is multiple tight end formations. Of 46 tight ends with nine or more targets, Tampa Bay has three. Gruden passes early, 61% of all first half play calls in 2007, but runs late, passing on only 31% of all plays when holding the lead in the second half. Those runs are decidedly "powerful", featuring fullbacks and multiple tight ends. That need for a fullback, a full 64% of runs were from two back sets, has pushed 10 Million dollar man Earnest Graham to the position. Gruden rushes without bullshit, but passes with the bullshit and chicanery cranked to...7. Running formations result in passes, but passing formations rarely result in runs. Gruden ran on just 17% of all three WR single back sets, but passed on 69% of all two tight end, single back sets, last in the NFL. On the other end of the spectrum is ultra-orthodox play caller Dick Jauron, who passed on just 27% of all two tight end, single back sets.

The good news is that Seattle won't get smoked by Tampa's receiver and the Buc's closing strategy, a hotshot of runnin' the ball plays into Seattle's greatest defensive strength. Barring disaster, that should keep Seattle in it. Of course, that's assuming the Hawks escape Charlie Frye's Fangoria centerfold of sacks, picks and scrotal fistulas.