American Football is Really Simple

I mean, it’s a complex game. Don’t get me wrong. The folks in the front offices and at the top of the coaching mountains are sophisticated intellectuals, with skill sets akin to those of Fortune 500 CEOs. But then again, one could also argue that business, for as complex as it can be, is really simple too. Make a good product. Market said product. Refine the product and make it better. Adapt. Repeat.

 

American football, particularly at its highest level, is simple. First, you need a guy to throw the football. (Quarterback) Then, you need guys to protect the guy that throws the ball. (Offensive line) Lastly, you need guys to get to the other team’s quarterback. (Pass rush) Is this an oversimplification? Perhaps. But it’s an undisputed truth that without a top half unit in any of these areas, your chances of winning a Lombardi are slim to none. If you ever needed to be convinced of this, look no further than Super Bowl LV. Having an elite staple of skill position players with mind blowing speed is irrelevant if you can’t give your quarterback time to throw them the ball. Kansas City learned that the hard way.

 

I won’t pretend to claim I predicted a 22-point thumping for Tampa Bay, but no self-respecting football person, knowing Kansas City would be without three starting offensive linemen, picked KC to win the game. If they did, they need to be seriously vetted regarding their football acumen. Year after year, we fall in love with the razzle and dazzle of the quarterback, and the pretty boy nature of the guys catching the ball, and the artistic smoothness of the man running with it. And all of that is cute, it really is. It’s exciting and sells tickets and is what most people turn the game on for. But, as we’ve seen once more, it doesn’t win championships.

 

If I told you leading into the game that either quarterback would be without their top three pass catching options, you would’ve been inclined to believe that such a personnel hole is one too tough to dig out of. At some point, we are going to fully appreciate that the most important position group in the sport is the one fewest people know about.

The Packers probably didn’t play in the Super Bowl because their All-Pro offensive lineman (David Bakhtiari) got injured in the final game of the season. The Ravens very likely play Kansas City in the AFC title game if their future Hall of Fame guard (Marshal Yanda) doesn’t retire in the offseason, and their All-Pro tackle (Ronnie Stanley) doesn’t suffer a season ending injury. The Bucs lifted the Lombardi, and a huge building block toward that was the offensive tackle (Tristan Wirfs) they selected 13th overall in last year’s draft.

 

Kansas City talked about the beginning of a dynasty after winning last season’s Super Bowl. Some skill position players even went as far as to predict seven Lombardi’s for this iteration of Kansas City. If any recent team in sports deserved a hearty helping of humble stew, it was the team from Missouri.

 

I’ll pass on the bevy of excuses for Kansas City’s performance. Part of building a complete roster capable of winning multiple titles is having depth at the most important position units. Kansas City instead chose to fill their roster with elite outside talent, under the belief that their guy under center is a magician, capable of maneuvering his way out of anything. They thought Patrick Mahomes and his speedy, diva like weapons could take flight even in the most violent of conditions. A reassessment is in order.

 

Kansas City’s valiant attempt to run it back fell flat upon its face. Maybe with their early round picks in the upcoming draft, they’ll take an offensive lineman, instead of a running back or accessory wide receiver. Because, as history has shown us once more, depth on the outside means nothing if you can’t keep your quarterback standing upright. American football — it really is a simple game.