The iconic Vince Lombardi once said, "It is essential to understand that battles are primarily won in the hearts of men." The revered Bear Bryant used to say, "Show class, have pride and display character. If you do, winning takes care of itself." The legendary Paul Brown told us, "The key to winning is poise under stress."
These three men have done more for football in America than the net contributions of all the innovators, imaginers, and think-tanks that came before them or have come since. Based on that type of résumé, you would think this holy trinity of football would have it all figured out ... perhaps the secret to winning or losing is buried in the hearts, minds, and personalities of those who compete.
I'm not buying it.
Though I'm no NFL forefather, and am certainly not to be considered one of the greatest football minds of all-time, I am adequately in tune with recent history to opine my own iconoclastic theories relative to the particular successes of NFL franchises. There is one overpoweringly effective commodity that every last season-ending champion of America's greatest professional sports league has had in common ... one ingredient that, year after year, sets apart the has been and wanna-be franchises from those who hoist the statue named after Green Bay's legendary leader.
Before I get into the guts of this story (how's that for a tease?), I do want to set the table with one ground rule for my spiel. Anything beyond the past 10 seasons and you're in dynasty territory. Free agency was in its infancy and the league's "haves" were made up of an overwhelmingly short list of franchises. For this reason, I discount any discussion about my theory beyond the back end of the Dallas Cowboy dynasty. Obscene collections of talent on rosters tend to trump any nickel-and-dime theory for success.
Now, to the point ... what is this magic ingredient, you ask? Linebackers. In the last 10 years, which I affectionately have nicknamed the "parody years," the proof to my theory is in the proverbial pudding.
Now before you angrily surf over to Peter King's latest missive on how great a coach Denver's Mike Shanahan is, consider the facts:
Historically, teams that are consistently successful have one of two things going for them. The obvious thing is consistently strong offenses (1980s and '90s Miami Dolphins, 1999-2002 St. Louis Rams, Brett Favre-era Green Bay Packers, etc.).
The less obvious quality of those teams that continue to excel but have less-than-stellar offensive attacks is, in fact, good linebackers. Look at teams like the Pittsburgh Steelers, New England Patriots, San Diego Chargers, Oakland Raiders, and even the Seattle Seahawks. While their offenses change each year, their fortunes from year to year are defined by the play of their linebackers. Track their down seasons and I will guarantee you that in each and every case the bad years included at least one significant injury to a key linebacker or, if nothing else, a substandard output from the healthy 'backers relative to those same players' career numbers.
Take a look at the teams that make startling recovery from atrocious seasons. The 2006 Chicago Bears are the latest example of this — it was stellar linebacker play from Lance Briggs and Brian Urlacher that led the Bears to the division title after finishing '05 with only five wins. The 2004 Atlanta Falcons had career years from Chris Draft, Jamie Duncan, and Keith Brooking, so turning around the 5-11 season from 2003 was not too large of a surprise.
This year's Steeler team was no better than middle-of-the-pack after a Week 13 loss to the Bengals. Beginning in Week 14 and reviewing the last eight games the Steelers played (playoff games included), their linebacking corps notched an astounding 17 sacks, four forced fumbles, and two interceptions! No reasonable argument can be made that the linebackers weren't chiefly responsible for Pittsburgh's run to glory as they held four of the league's top six offenses in check.
Before the 2006 Steeler victory, the last two teams to win the Super Bowl that aren't named the Patriots (the Baltimore Ravens in 2000 and Tampa Bay Buccaneers in 2002) enjoyed two of the greatest seasons ever put together by a group of linebackers. The Patriots themselves would not have won their three Lombardi Trophies if it hadn't had been for incredible play from the likes of Willie McGinest (yes, I know he's a DE, too, but his biggest impact plays came as an outside 'backer), Tedy Bruschi, Ted Johnson, and Mike Vrabel. In fact, taking that argument even further, review of the two years in the last five that didn't end in championship glory for the Pats will show that their linbacking units were equally decimated by injury in those two seasons.
While those six most recent seasons are clear examples of my theory, that certainly doesn't make it anything more than an interesting trend. For my bold and startling realization to really carry any water, we must examine further back into the annals of the league.
Start with the St. Louis Rams. This is a team that marched out the same breathtaking offense for three seasons in a row. Kurt Warner, Marshall Faulk, Torry Holt, Isaac Bruce — the "Greatest Show on Turf" was as consistently dominating an offense as you'll find over any multi-year period in the sport's rich history. But that offense was good for only one Super Bowl victory, which came after the 1999 season.
Many of you out there will swear that it was this dynamic Ram offense that won them that trophy, but I submit to you that the 2000 St. Louis Rams had a better offense than the '99 version (6,639 yards of total offense with 55 offensive TDs vs. 7,335 yards and 63 TDs). It was the play of linebackers that pushed them over the top, particularly in the biggest game. We all remember the game-saving goal line tackle Mike Jones had against Titan receiver Kevin Dyson. Review the season stats, and you'll see clearly that it was the linebacker play-making ability that proved to be the Rams' "x-factor" in 1999.
Dig deeper. Denver's back-to-back championships were anchored by linebackers Bill Romanowski and John Mobley. Over their two-year championship run, those two 'backers totaled 14.5 sacks, five interceptions, five forced fumbles, and 33 passes defensed in regular season play. Additionally, each had a sack in the Broncos' win over the Falcons. Versus the Packers, Mobley recorded a team-leading six solo tackles and made the game-saving play by knocking away a Favre-to-[Mark] Chmura pass attempt on fourth down with the Pack driving for the would-be tying touchdown.
In Super Bowl XXXI — which Sports Central editor and founder Marc James will be happy to tell you was won by his beloved Green Bay Packers — linebacker Brian Williams may have intercepted the pass late in the fourth quarter that sealed the deal, but I will admit that this is the one rather dubious entry in my analysis — alas, no theory is absolutely bullet-proof and you must concede that a game where a special-teamer is named as the MVP certainly is an exception rather than a rule.
By my count, that is nine consecutive titles decided one way or another by the linebacking corps. The 10th (the aforementioned Green Bay game) is an anomaly when looking at recent events, but also marks the point where several NFL dynasties began to "die off." I mention this because these dynasties tend to break down any realistic theories. A dynastic team is that way for a reason, and that reason usually involves resources, which San Francisco and Dallas consistently demonstrated an unfair plurality of. But I will note this paralleling factor — the Buffalo Bills had a very weak set of linebackers relative to the other league powerhouses and, like today's Indianapolis Colts teams, they consistently fell short of title glory as a result.
If reasonable thought and research is put forth, you will see that my theory does indeed hold water after all. At least half of the league's 32 teams have a superior quarterback each season. Still more feature at least one stud running back — an even higher percentage than that sport game-breaking type of receivers. Just about every team has a designated sack artist on defense and a potentially game-changing shutdown cornerback. Game-changing linebackers, though, are the keys to success.
While it is clear that there are some very real factors to any team's success outside of the play of that team's linebackers, one thing is abundantly clear — no position makes as defined a difference when it comes to winning and losing. When a quarterback throws four picks in a game but his team still wins, you can bet that his linebackers put up some very nice performances. When a team has a running back bust out for 200 yards and three scores, yet they inexplicably lose that game, it is a certainty that the linebackers for that team were M.I.A. As simple and rudimentary as it may seem, all you have to do each fall is keep an eye on the league's linebacker units to separate the true contenders from the pretenders. You can take that fact to the bank.
Now if only I could come up for a solution to world hunger!
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