Knee Jerk Reactions to the Divisional Round Playoff: Patriots vs. Texans

Things to consider while thanking Cardi B. She hasn't expressed my thoughts and feelings so eloquently since "WAP":

--I'm going to begin by acknowledging someone who had the best performance I've seen in all the many years I've spent squandering my existence obsessing over a football team. And that is the crowd at Gillette, who absolutely had their finest hours. I walked through a couple of different sections of the tailgate scene, on both sides of Rte. 1, and they brought a level of nuclear energy I've never experienced before. In all, I might have seen a couple of thousand people pregaming, and didn't see a single one of them in Texans gear. It was the polar opposite of the first couple of home games, when Raiders and Steelers fans crawled out of whatever crevasse in the Earth they live in, bringing their weirdo cultures, making sacrifices to Moloch, or whatever the hell it is they do. But as the season has gone on, Pats fans have created a massive homefield advantage. I counted no less than three pre-snap penalties, and they had to burn a timeout with 12:00 left to avoid a delay of game. Which I'm crediting to the deafening noise any time they broke a huddle. 

--The point being, after five seasons of existential despair, the Patriots are back to being a major part of Masshole Life. Every conversation revolves around them. Mom-and-pop doughnut shops are selling handmade Patriots-themed doughnuts by the dozen. Doofuses from Weymouth and hot chicks from Wellesley in wool knit Patriots hats are getting interviewed on the local news again. It's like the last half-decade never happened. Or that it was just the dark middle entry in a trilogy. The Two Towers or Empire Strikes Back of this epic saga, and now we've entered the third act. I kept getting asked if I'm nervous about facing the Texans. I said of course I was. And I was loving having something to be nervous about, instead where we were a year ago at this time. Which was living a Chekov play. A bleak, dystopian hellscape, bereft of all hope. And now we get to do it all over again this week. It's bliss. 

--With respect to the intelligentsia at ESPN, they were right when they said this game would feature an elite defense that some were comparing to the Legion of Boom Seahawks or the 2015 Broncos. How this stifling, smothering, punishing unit was going to dominate and make all the difference in this game. And they were right. They just had the wrong defense. 

--The Texans were who we thought they were. Credit to them, and we'll get to that. But this was Zach Kuhr's defense's Herb Brooks, "I'm sick and tired of hearin' about what a great hockey team the Soviets have. Screw 'em!" moment. For the second playoff game in a row, they devoured a good quarterback whole, then spat out a ball of his bones and fur like an owl. 

--By halftime, DeMeco Ryans legitimately had to make a decision about whether he could put CJ Stroud back out under center. He had to have been staring into the mirror, having a Come to Jesus meeting with this own conscience, asking himself what would do more long term damage to his QB, benching him in a playoff game, or rolling him back out there for another 30 minutes of this:

--Not to make excuses for the Texans, who never bought me a coffee or brought me Patriots-themed doughnuts, but the cascading effect of not having Nico Collins was evident from the very beginning. For the most part, the Patriots played Christian Gonzalez on the defense's right and Carlton Davis III on the left, regardless of how Houston lined up. But on subsequent drives, flipped them to the opposite side. And let both corners stay in man coverage for most of the game, with the safeties alternating between single high with an 8-man box on early downs and split safeties on 3rd & longs. As the Pats opened up a lead, they went into more of a deep shell, with Quarters or Quarter-Quarter Half. Including at least one snap where they had Davis playing back between the hash marks against the Texans 3X1. But it was the play of the corners in man that was the force multiplier that affected everything else they were able to do. 

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--On the day, Stroud had one of those stat lines where he would've had better numbers if he just spiked the ball on every snap. A passer rating of just 28.0. A QBR of 21.1. And it was definitely one of those performances where no one is going to argue the stats don't tell the story. The math does, in fact, math here:

--Inexplicably, Stroud kept seeking out whomever Gonzo was in coverage on. Maybe because Texans OC Nick Caley was putting man beater routes to his side and those were Stroud's primary reads, I have no idea. But going after the Patriots top coverage guy would be a bold strategy if he was matched up with Collins. Against Jayden Higgins and Xavier Hutchinson, it bordered on self-harm:

--Not that he had a lot of options. Carlton Davis had the most Carlton Davis game of his Patriots career. Alternating between drive-killing pass break ups, game-changing interceptions, and field-flipping pass interference calls like someone flipping Tarot Cards. I'm convinced the DPIs were purely reputational, as NFL officiating descends ever deeper into the madness of calling games NBA style. In fact, on Davis' second penalty, I called it as the play was unfolding; before Stroud's pass crossed the line of scrimmage. Just because I saw him targeting Higgins up the sidelines, and knew Davis' fate was determined. The cards do not lie. (Note: Tarot cards are bullshit. Save your money and get a Magic 8 Ball.). Meanwhile, Kamari Lassiter was getting away with more contact than you'll find on the 5:15 Braintree bound Red Line train out of South Station, twice interfering with Stefon Diggs, but getting the benefit of the reputational call. Still, Davis did a lot of great things the officials couldn't take away. Mostly after he flipped to the defense's right. And against every receiver the Texans sent his way:

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--And with that part of the game plan turning into an Extinction Level Event for the Texans, all their other systems failed as well. The combined effect of having Milton Williams, Robert Spillane and Khyiris Tonga all back in the middle of the Front-7 made it impossible for Houston to run the ball and get manageable down-and-distances. Williams, Tonga and Christian Barmore were moving the line of scrimmage and hit running backs in the backfield on eight of 12 rushing attempts, averaging 0.0 yards gained before first contact:

--And stopped a very good running attack dead in its tracks:

The 3rd & longs led to the Pats blitzing more than they had all season, more than half the snaps. None bigger than K'Lavon Chaisson coming on a delayed blitz, dodging Harrison Bryant who got decked by Williams shoving Aireontae Ersery back into him, which caused Stroud to panic and throw a pop up to Marcus Jones for the Pick-6:

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So give the assist to Williams. This shows how much he was missed. Big Dogs eat in January, and all that. This one was sort of redemption for Jones, because the Texans only touchdown came on a 0-blitz which left him iso'd on Christian Kirk. Stroud read it, had the ball in the air quick, and Kirk made a nice back shoulder catch before Jones could react. Good on them. But Jones is just simply that ballhawk who is constantly finding ways to turn games around. This catch and run is just the latest example. 

--Also as a reminder, so is Gonzalez, like when he "started the lawnmower" to rip this one away from Woody (17 yards on 14 carries) Marks:

What would've been really nice is if the Patriots offense could've turned that Golden Corral Endless Buffet of Turnovers into points. Or even 1st downs. By my reckoning, there were four different Houston turnovers where the Pats gave the ball right back to them, either with a 3 & out or a turnover of their own. That's a lot of regifting, which in some social circles is considered rude. 

--But that's reality when you're facing a defense as good as theirs. You're going to struggle. The 248 total yards of offense was their low output of the season. The 13 1st downs are the second lowest. Their three turnovers were the most since the appalling five they had in the Pittsburgh game. And yet? The 21 points they scored is well above what the Texans averaged all season. No quarterback threw three touchdowns against them until Maye did. And while stats are for losers, and his QBR was even lower than Stroud's thanks to the four fumbles, Maye did have a passer rating of 100.7. And his only interception was a joke, a Hail Mary at the end of the half, after they couldn't pick up the 5 or so yards necessary to attempt an Andy Borregales field goal. But all anyone will - or should - remember is the great throws he made. None better than this one to Kayshon Boutte against Derek Stingley, Jr. Which had surreal, glitch-in-the-Matrix vibes:

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That bottom one was Maye's first career TD pass. Then, like now, Boutte got a step on one of the best cover men in football, then stacked him up so that Stingley couldn't fight through without drawing a flag, and just needed his QB to put the ball where he could run under it. Since the start of last season, Stingley has been targeted on deep balls by other quarterbacks 34 times, and given up two receptions. Maye and Boutte are 2 for 2 against him. 

--And all things considered, this one takes an honored place among the biggest catches in franchise history. Julian Edelman's against the Falcons in Super Bowl LI. Gronk beating the Rams up the seam to set up the only touchdown of the game in Super Bowl LI. Jermaine Wiggins grabbing a deflected ball on the sidelines in the Snow Bowl. Edelman picking up 20, then 15 on 3rd & 10s in overtime at Kansas City in the AFC championship game. And for sheer athleticism, this one ranks right up there in the pantheon of all time greats:

--And let's not dare sleep on Stefon Diggs, for this hands catch in the tightest of windows, while being interfered with by Jaylen Reed. Still having the wherewithal to pick his hands up as he went down, so the ball never made contact with the turf. Thus not giving the people who can't define what a catch is from proving they know what a catch isn't:

As a gentleman who also prides himself on what his hands are capable of, I can relate. Sometimes I marvel at them as well. I'm sure Cardi B is just as grateful as we are. 

--Speaking of me, if I can no longer do this job, let's say I get injured in a tragic blogging accident and am no longer capable of performing my duties here, I'm going to ask the Patriots for a job. I want to be the guy who comes running out to the huddle during delays and puts a cape around Drake Maye to keep him warm. I think that's a line of work that would give me a great deal of satisfaction. And that I'd be good at it. I'd study film of the masters, like the ones who used to do it for James Brown when he'd be pretending he was exhausted and couldn't make it through one more song. Or the ones who worked in the corner for Macho Man Randy Savage. Anyway, they say you should never stop looking for work, no matter how much you like your current job. If this Barstool thing doesn't work out, I've found my calling.

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--Just to continue to work backwards, the Texans are supposed to be a D that doesn't do anything elaborate. They don't throw a lot of window dressing at you, try to disguise coverages, or blitz all that much. They simply line up and try to beat you across the board, in all the matchups. Yet on 4th & 1 they sent six blitzers, all of whom got picked up. Maye knew exactly where he was going with the ball, which was taking the profit on a short in cut by Pop Douglas across the face of Calen Bullock, who lost his footing. And he caught the rest of the secondary in no position to close the gap. In 5 1/2 minutes, the had more points on the board than Pittsburgh had in 60.

--I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to get to him, but Rhamondre Stevenson came up huge. The holes weren't often there for him. He had to wait for plays to develop, look for seams between the defensive tackles and linebackers, make jump cuts and spin moves like an art thief navigating a hallway filled with lasers. And there were times it got semi-ugly, like the 3 & out in the 3rd quarter when they ran him into the line twice and then Maye bounced a pass to him in the flat and Josh McDaniels caught a snow squall of boos. But when it was time to kill the clock and preserve the lead, Stevenson was immense. By this point, they were going with the 3-tackle front with Thayer Munford Jr. in. And all Stevenson did was rip off runs of 8 yards, then 6, then 9, and then 2. Two 1st downs that kept bleeding the clock. And 6:09 later, it was essentially game over. In all, he had 81 yards from scrimmage, and under the circumstances, it felt like three times that.

--Will Campbell had his issues, particularly with Will Anderson. And every other left tackle in the league can tell him to join the club. Some of it was him losing the 1-on-1 battle. There may have been a fumble where he was expecting help from TreVeyon Henderson and didn't get it. But regardless, like Jared Wilson last week, he saved the game with a fumble recovery. Twice. He's 21. He's still a puppy growing into his paws. And he's our ride and die at LT through Denver and beyond. Deal with it.

--This Week's Applicable Movie Quote: "Kirk, I've done far worse than kill you. I've hurt you. And I wish to go on hurting you." - Khan, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

--I'm going to wrap up the actual game play the way the Patriots did. With run-stuffing, old school, throwback middle linebacker Robert Spillane in coverage against a 6-3, 210 lb wideout with 4.5 speed, 50 yards upfield:

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--I just want to close by circling back to Patriots fans again. And you'll have to forgive me for lapsing into maudlin romanticism for the rest of this. There are times when I envy people who don't care about all this as much as I do. People who can watch a game or not. Watch them win or lose, and either way, they're sleeping good tonight. Moments of stress and frustration where I'm ready to rip my own face off. (Think them blowing a 21-0 lead over Buffalo a month ago.) Not last night. Last night I pitied the casual fan. The ones who aren't as invested as some of us are. Or who don't have anyone in their life as committed as they are. Who maybe went to the game but the people they're with made them leave early to beat the traffic or whatever, and missed out on the whole experience. Again, getting back to my car, it was stunning. Snowfall right out of a Currier and Ives calendar. Heated tents full of guys blasting Dad Rock anthems, like the fellas in 3B blaring Aerosmith's "(Suck on My) Big 10-inch Record." The ones at Rodman cranking the Stones "Get Your Ya-Yas Out" live album. All soaking it in and enjoying the last home game of this remarkable, improbable, unforgettable season because they didn't want the night to end. My own world got a lot smaller in 2024. On my way to the game I passed the nursing home where I visited my cousin Phil in the final days of his life. My brother Jack was there, because he was there every day, offering care and comfort to his cousin, but also his best friend. The two of them took me to most of the Pats games I've ever gone to. They introduced me to the tailgate scene at the old stadium as a kid, and it imprinted on me for life. We lost them both within a day of each other just over a year ago. And while I wish they were still here, I believe with all my mind and soul they're loving all this as much as I am. I guess what I'm getting at is that I hope you all have someone you care about to enjoy this with as well. Moments like this are rare and precious. Make the most of them. 

--We're onto the AFC championship game. The universe is back to normal.