Knee Jerk Reactions to Week 16: Patriots vs. Ravens
Things to consider while thanking the Patriots of leaving exactly what I wanted under the tree:
--As excruciating as this one was for long stretches, especially the end of the 3rd, beginning of the 4th, when all the missed opportunities were taking a toll and they couldn't make a stop, I hope you all did what I tried desperately to do. Which is to take a step back and appreciate this. Even the frustration of watching the Pats leaving points on the board with dropped passes on the goal line and field-goal range turnovers. That adrenaline rush of being in a game with actual stakes is intoxicating. There were times I used to say I envy people who don't care as much as I do. They can relax and enjoy watching football regardless of the outcome. We just got treated to three straight seasons of not having any stakes and not caring. It's for maniacs. Lifeless, soulless drones, with no passion in their lives. The angst I was feeling down 24-13 is a drug. Watching the comeback play out was that dopamine kicking in. The final drive that put it away was washing it all down with a holiday cocktail. A ridiculous one like that Peppermint Espresso Martini your girlfriend loves that cost 25 bucks. As Jimmy Buffet puts it, "The pleasure is worth all the pain."
--Most of all, this was a game straight out of the glory days, when the Patriots and Ravens were at each other's throats at least once a year, with the fate of the AFC hanging in the balance. Those games were always a Jason Bourne fight in a tiny bathroom. With blood on the walls and the sound of bones snapping echoing off the porcelain. And like that classic 2014 season Divisional round game, John Harbaugh gagged in the moment. Which we'll get to, believe me. It just hits different when the Ravens are the opponent. Any day that vile, loathsome abomination of a franchise is handed a loss is a good day. When the Patriots hand it to them, it's euphoric. And when the "M!V!P!" chants broke out from all the Patriots fans who made their way down into that Heart of Darkness, it felt like proof positive the glory days aren't something we're still reminiscing about. Or even looking forward to. They're something we're living right now.
--Before we get to Drake Maye, and I can't believe I've gone two paragraphs without mentioning him (because that's longer than I go in my personal life), I want to aim the laser pointer at the fact everything he did came despite the worst non-call in the history of organized tackle football:
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As he launched this ICBM, Maye was standing on his own 40. He was tripped as he stepped up into the pocket and was throwing off balance. It hit its mark, the 9 on Kayshon Boutte's chest, at the 5. If the officials got it even partially right - the blatant, intentional DPI or credited Boutte for having the ball pinned to his chest while he was down, it would've been the career highlight of most second-year quarterbacks. Instead it just goes as an incompletion for a guy who still isn't established enough to get the calls. Even the obvious ones. But rather than give into the frustration and turtle, he responded. Three plays later, facing a 4th & 2 at midfield, with just 3 minutes to go and everything riding on it, he put this 101 mph fastball on the black to Stefon Diggs on an out route, which Ar'Darius Washington couldn't get his bat around on:
Not two plays later, Rhamondre Stevenson broke Baltimore's will to fight with the 21-yard game winner. In which he looked like he was steering Kyle Williams' blocking like a remote-control race car:
--Sticking with Kyle Williams a minute more. He's been slow to develop in a crowded wide receiver room and on a team that rarely has even three wideouts on the field at any given time. And not many of us were thinking about which funny Jim Carrey Grinch GIF to send him on the 25th when he started the 2nd quarter with an illegal formation penalty. But you watch him relentlessly taking Marlon Humphrey out of the play, then the way he ran stretch-release off the line to get Humphreys on his back foot, beat him on the vertical, and then track the ball on that dime Maye threw:
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… and you see what he's going to become with time. Williams is a home run hitter, and he's hitting tape-measure shots. That was his seventh catch of the season, but his third touchdown. And he's averaging 27 yards a reception, which is Wizard-level. He's not getting a ton of opportunities so far, and still has a lot to learn when it comes to alignments, route-running, spacing and so on. But he's making something of the chances his IS getting.
--That throw by Maye put him over the 300 yard mark for the first time in his career. Which has been a bone of contention for the kind of tedious, gray, tiresome people who say things like "So … how's work goin'?" to start conversations at holiday parties. What was far more worth thinking about was how, last week against Buffalo, the Pats possessed the ball twice in the 4th quarter, down by 4 with all their timeouts left. And lost yards, going 3 & out, then turning it over on downs. So much of pulling off comebacks relies on having a quarterback who instills confidence that he's really good at pulling off comebacks. It's a "Napoleon on the battlefield was worth 10,000 men" type of mentality. Maye just made the whole country - at least the ones who didn't flip to The Sound of Music when the game went to 24-13 - realize he is that guy. That no lead is safe when he has time on the clock.
--Credit to Zach Orr for all the smoke and mirrors he was employing to disguise his coverages. Early on, it felt like Maye was finding linebackers that looked like blitzers standing in his throwing lanes, and replacement blitzers right in his facemask. Actually, that second one is something he dealt with much of the game as first Morgan Moses, went down, followed by Thayer Munford (necessitating Moses coming back) and finally TreVeyon Henderson. By the 4th, Maye just seemed to accept the abuse he was taking as the cost of doing business. A price he was willing to pay, as long as he got the ball out on time. Which he did to the tune of 31-of-44.
--To me, it all seemed to change midway through the Pats second possession. Facing a 3rd & 13 from midfield. It felt like that's when Neo could see all the strings of glowing green digits that make up the Matrix and learned he's The One. Running a 3X1 with the Ravens showing Cover-1, Maye motioned Stevenson up to protect the A-gap. The Ravens checked to Nate Wiggins moving outside-to-in, spying Stevenson. As they rotated the post safety over to the 3-man bunch, Mack Hollins ran a "Drift" into the open middle of the field. And from a clean pocket, Maye put it right on him.
--On the very next play, he correctly identified Baltimore as playing Man. And looking at his hand of cards for the best mismatch said, "Have you got any 5-10 safeties?" And Fish, Fish, he got his wish with Alohi Gilman on Austin Hooper:
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--Which led to this gem of a moment:
This was Larry Bird walking off the court with his busted finger in the air before the last shot of the 3-point contest even reached the top of its arc.
Giphy Images.We're bearing witness to a great athlete coming into his own. (And I know how that sounds. Get your mind out of the gutter. What are you, 15?) When a guy with this talent starts feeling himself (Stop. What did I just say?), it's special. And not to be missed. Enjoy every step of this process, because it only happens every so often in this life.
--Which brings me to a larger point. And that is the question of whether that big cosmic nurple we suffered at Gillette last weekend was actually a good thing in retrospect. Philosophers have long debated whether the 2007 Pats would've been better off with some inconsequential regular season loss somewhere along the way. The mystics and statistics indicate they would have. A 15-1 record would've had no impact on the standings. And then when Phillippi Sparks' daughter from American Idol was singing the Anthem, maybe they would've been looser. Without carrying the weight of history on their shoulder pads. As it was, they all looked like they were getting off the bus at Shawshank. After blowing that lead to Buffalo, it was going to be fascinating to see how they responded. We have our answer. And it's reason to celebrate.
--And to bounce back the way they did requires an Alpha. And that was the guy who strode into whatever the hell they call that mausoleum in Baltimore in an outfit that cost more than my car. After a few weeks in which his reps and and targets dropped off due to Josh McDaniels' game plans, Diggs was immense. From walking the sidelines doing the "Chins up" gesture to the postgame, where he refused to take any credit for the best game of his Patriots career. To in between, running the entire route tree, from out routes to deep slants:
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--All beginning with this first chunk play of the game, hitting the Cover-2 hole and hanging on, even when he got tangled up in a Figure-4 Leg Lock that looked like it might have ended his night:
--But his coolest move was executing the Pledge, the Turn and the Prestige as he escaped the Blue Medical Tent, something no magician has ever successfully pulled off:
What a signing Diggs turned out to be. And to think of how many years we spent putting our hopes - and out salary cap space - into Gordons and Parkers and Smith-Schusters.
--I can't let this go another sentence without bringing it back to Baltimore's coaching. By the time the Ravens went up by 11, every sentient being on Earth knew the Patriots were not going to stop Derrick Henry. Even though Tyler Huntley was 5-for-5 (on his way to a 9-for-10 night) I posted on X that if the Ravens coaches do anything other than stick with the outside pitches, crack-toss plays that were putting Henry on the edge where there's no one capable of stopping him, they should all lose their licenses to practice football. But the Pats did find the one man who could stop him: Harbaugh:
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Not since he drew a penalty by running onto the field to argue against the perfectly legal Ineligible Receiver formations in that 2014 playoff game has the lesser Harbaugh brother done the Patriots such a favor. There was absolutely no logic to it whatsoever. All we can do is marvel at the malpractice he committed. And hope that unlike last time, he doesn't conspire with the Patriots next opponent to accuse Drake Maye of doctoring the footballs.
--The scary thing is, what damage Henry did, was almost exclusively against loaded boxes. I can't remember the last time we saw so many 4-3-4 defenses. Most of the snaps went to the Bigs. Corey Durden, Joshua Farmer, Khyiris Tonga, before he got hurt. Even rookie Eric Gregory saw a lot of playing time at nose tackle. And still couldn't get the Ravens into 3rd & longs until the 4th quarter. With a big assist from their head coach.
--Clearly this was a game where you felt the absence of Milton Williams and Robert Spillane. Jahlani Tavai was either at the second level alongside Jack Gibbens and Christian Elliss, or on the end trying to set an edge. Perhaps his best moment of the season was when he faked like he was jumping inside on a read option, coaxing Huntley into handing the ball off, only to drop Keaton Mitchell for a loss. But none of the names I mentioned can provide the sideline-to-sideline tackling that Spillane practically leads the league in. The fact they're still winning road games without two of their biggest additions on defense speaks volumes.
--Which brings me to the defensive play of the game. The forced fumble by K'Lavon Chaisson is exactly the kind visions of sugarplums that danced in my head when Mike Vrabel (first mention of him; that's on me) talked about establishing a culture in Foxboro. He rushes the passer. The pass is completed behind him. But his work is not done. He didn't hear no whistle:
--I don't mean to suggest you knew how this one was going to go. Not by a damned sight. But there was something to be said for the way the Patriots players rolled up that let you know they were all business. As someone close to me pointed out, with the exception of Diggs, who was dressed for the Met Gala red carpet because that's part of his persona, turned out in basic sweats, giving off that Gray Sweatpants Theory Energy.
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As if to say that, Sunday Night Football or not, this was a work trip, and they were there to take care of the task at hand, only. It was a struggle to be sure. But they took care of their business.
--As with any Cris Collinsworth game, it's hard to pick out just one worst moment. Personally, I'm torn between him saying the OPI on Boutte was justified because "He swatted Humphrey's arms," only to have the replay show no body parts belonging to anyone being swatted, and his fawning over the Isaac Newton-level brilliance of Marc Andrews for … committing a false start as the Ravens were faking going for it on 4th down. Let's declare a tie. And acknowledge that Collinsworth has ruined more Sunday nights than the five-day work week.
--And still, even at is most insufferable, at least with Cris you know to expect it. What hurts more is watching Bradley Cooper, a good actor who's giving a lot of great performances, struggling to make those commercials about "football is a conspiracy to sell food" funny. It's not his fault. He can make an angry CGI racoon hilarious with just his voice. But there were more laughs in American Sniper than those ads.
--This Week's Applicable Movie Quote: "The greatest Christmas gift I had ever received, or would ever receive." - Ralphie Parker, narrating, A Christmas Story.
--Perhaps the most unlikely, nearly miraculous occurrence in the history of television happened around this time in 1966. When CBS greenlit a holiday special unlike any other. In a time of strife and upheaval in America, they produced a show that had no business working out the way it did. A sloppily drawn, poorly animated cartoon about a morbidly depressed bald kid who seems to exist in a world with no adult supervision, has his existential dread mocked by his only friend, gets bullied by everyone else he knows, and laughed at by his own dog. Set to a jazz soundtrack, of all bloody things. Where everything gets resolved with a reading from the Gospel of Luke 2:8. The only reason it didn't get canceled before it aired was that the finished product didn't get delivered to the network until it was too late; it was already on the schedule, and the execs just decided to show it and deal with the fallout. What resulted was a timeless classic that resonated with parents as much as it did the target audience of schoolkids. And it would remain the greatest decision in the history of holiday TV viewing. That is, until NBC decided to flex New England at Baltimore to prime time. This game is my new Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown. At least until the next win.
--Now we need more of these night games. We've got a QB who likes the stadium lights, and the spotlight:
The way it should be.
--If you're lucky, you have someone in your life who's a great gift-giver. Who even sees presents as a way to express their "love language." As of right now, for me, that's this football team. And as appreciative as I am for all of this, I'm going to hang onto the receipt. Because I'm hopping for something in a 1-seed:
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OK, my math was off by 1%, but it was late and I was caught up in some holiday euphoria. The fact remains: Go Chiefs, Go Chargers. Jerry Christmas, everyone.