I love this play call and it fails miserably.
First and ten first play of the fourth drive, Bills up big and still passing all the damn time, some member of the Seahawks brain trust calls a blitz. To me, anyway, it seems really on point and clever. Jamal Adams rushes off left tackle. Alton Robinson works a hard inside move to isolate himself on the guard. From there it’s Mone, Bullard and Green.
It just doesn’t work.
Green doesn’t do anything. Mone takes the worst of a long slanting block which ends in a Bill-Hawk-Bill pig pile. Freeing Green but as previously stated Green doesn’t do anything. He pantomimes pass rush in front of #75 Daryl Williams, is freed when Mone runs up Williams legs, and slowly spins counterclockwise as Josh Allen passes. You can see it as well as I can.
Bullard’s moves are similarly mystifying. He seems to be after Williams. Like, after him. As if he’s supposed to free another pass rusher by occupying the right tackle. Bullard’s so intent on him Williams very briefly blocks Jonathan and Rasheem each with one arm. Like Green, there’s a notable lack of contact between Bullard and the offensive line. Both seem to think they’re going to run around the blocker. Just run around them!
Those guys aren’t supposed to carry the pass rush though.
Adams telegraphs the blitz.
His intentions declared and with no running start he stands little chance against left tackle Dion Dawkins. Robinson gets nowhere against Ike Boettger. Whose name is awesome. Robinson gets to one side of Boettger, which can be good, and gives him a very very little hump move at the end. I know calling it that is beyond generous, but oh well, enjoy.
Tre Flowers is in coverage.
Does this count as mean-spirited?
Flowers is watching the quarterback and physically covering John Brown. It’s hard. And he makes it look hard. I don’t mean that sardonically. Well, not exactly; My point is: One can look at that and think how the hell is Flowers supposed to do all that? Watching Allen, watching Brown, running with Brown, attempting to disrupt the top of Brown’s route with a flailing right hand, staggering five yards backwards attempting to redirect, chasing Brown after the catch—it looks really hard. And it is. And that’s why they’re paid millions which is a trite factoid I know but in this case I reference it for an uncommon reason. Extremely hard jobs are easy to f-ck up.
Which is my analysis for the rest of the drive too.
Next play: Stefon Diggs sons D.J. Reed on one of those infernal crisscrossing route combinations.
Get well soon Quinton Dunbar.
If have you ever wondered what happens when one is ‘styled on.’
You see one competitor is so certain they will win and so in control of the competition that they may simply for fun infuse some style some braggadocio some elan into how they compete. The specific act of competing is replaced with the verb “style” through synedoche, with “style” from stile meaning “characteristic rhetorical mode of an author, manner or mode of expression.” Thus Diggs and Brown are not just running a route, receiving a pass, and attempting to run into the end zone, but expressing their manner, their voice, their inner world and character. So prominent and I would say bombastic is their manner, their voice, their inner world and character, in their running of a route, receiving a pass, and attempting to run in the end zone, that style can represent every act. This ceases to be competition between equals. Diggs and Brown are competing against their own standards of how awesome they can make these receptions.
I write that with no relish. It was simply Seattle’s turn to be on someone else’s highlight reel.
The drive ends with the Bills scoring a touchdown with what looks like a quarterback draw that can become a slant or a screen pass. It’s clever. And like many clever things, it goes an awful long damn way to achieve a simple goal. In the grasp of Adams, Allen throws a pass to Davis running a slant pattern. Dunbar was in coverage.
The Seahawks were even styled on by the coaches, it seems.
We’re on to L.A.