Go ahead.
Try it.
Type into Google "prevent defense prevents winning."
Then type: "prevent defense prevents losing."
The first search gets you 2,140,000 responses.
The second gets you 274,000.
There's a reason why there's such a discrepancy in search results because, maybe, it's true.
You'll come up with some interesting search results, too, like the fact that John Madden is widely credited with the origin of that phrase.
In all of my years watching football, I've never seen a team lose a game in the final seconds because they blitzed a quarterback and saw him catch them with something underneath the coverage.
Yet I've seen too many passes thrown into the end zone with three guys on the receiver where a tipped ball or a freak interference play can win it.
Last year, I saw Brian Griese... Brian FREAKING Griese ... take the anemic Bears' offense 97 yards against the Eagles because Andy Reid sat back in a stupid prevent defense and waited for the Bears beat him.
They did.
On Saturday, on my way to work, I saw Temple sit back in a three-man rush for the final series and wait for Buffalo to beat it.
It had to wait until the final play, but it was inevitable.
I'm not second-guessing now.
I said to everyone within earshot at Maxi's Bar on Liacouras Walk that the game was over when the Owls went to a three-man rush on the first defensive play of the final series.
"BLITZ!" I yelled at the screen. "BLITZ! BLITZ! BLITZ!"
"C'mon, the best pass defense is putting a quarterback on his ass!" I yelled.
Guess what?
No matter how much I yell, my voice doesn't carry through a television screen to Buffalo. Only in Poltergeist, but not in real life. This can't be happening, I said. A coach who has the guts to go for it on fourth-and-1 at his own 34 in a tie game surely has the guts to play just as aggressively on the other side of the ball.
All I could do is turn to the guy next to me and say, "if they don't blitz, they are going to lose."
And they did. Hopefully, they learned their lesson.
We'll see.
A coach who has the guts
to go for it on fourth-and-1
at his own 34 in a tie game
surely has the guts to play
just as aggressively
on the other side of the ball.
All ... the ... time ... in ... the ... world.
Twenty years ago almost to the day, a Temple coach named Bruce Arians almost learned the same lesson Al Golden learned Saturday.
I said almost because he got his wits about him in time to avoid a Temple defeat.
Down 35-30, a Rutgers' quarterback of similar talent named Scott Erney drove the Scarlet Knights from his own 5-yard line to the Temple 20 in the game's final minute.
Arians called a timeout and yelled so hard at defensive coordinator Nick Rapone I thought Bruce's veins were going to burst. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but soon I found out.
Temple went from covering with eight to rushing with eight. Four straight plays, Erney was sacked. It was a jailbreak of Temple defenders and the Owls were loving every defensive call, coming at Erney on all sides. The game ended with a Temple player, appropriately named Swift Burch, on top of Erney at midfield. Four plays. Four sacks. Thirty yards of losses.
There is no doubt in my mind
if Mark D'Onofrio and Al Golden
decided to send more than Buffalo could block,
we'd be talking about how good
that grass stain looked on Drew Willy's ass
at the end of the game
and not a fluke catch
"If I was going to go down, I was going to go down with my guns blazing," Arians said, holding the game ball in the locker room afterward.
"That's what I'm talkin' about," I said then.
That's what I'm talking about now.
There is no doubt in my mind if Mark D'Onofrio and Al Golden decided to send more than Buffalo could block, we'd be talking about how good that grass stain looked on Drew Willy's ass at the end of the game and not a fluke catch.
If only my voice could have reached Buffalo. If only they had heard.
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