If a season of neurological hazards, political controversy, public subsidies, and bad officiating has left you wondering why Americans like football so much, Sunday was your answer. First, David outscored Goliath in Pittsburgh, then the triple-comeback contest in Minnesota built up to the best final three minutes in NFL annals.
Didn’t like Sunday’s games? You must not like athletics.
Sports buffs will shed a tear that the ending of Saints at Vikings means a Super Bowl matchup of Tom Brady versus Drew Brees—oh so close after several seasons of there being no chance—now is fading fast. But three of the NFL’s four divisional-round playoff contests were spectacular, each going down to the final seconds, reminding us why football has such an outsize presence in U.S. national culture.
Saints at Vikings was the second major football game this January to conclude with an improbable long walkoff touchdown (this occurred in the big-college championship, too). The equivalent of the bottom-of-the-ninth grand slam, the long walkoff touchdown by the team about to lose is football’s most spectacular result. Now it’s happened twice in the same month. Of course, it happened in every episode of Friday Night Lights. But seeing it occur in reality reminds us why we like football so much.
Especially charming was the undrafted, oft-waived Walter Mitty character Case Keenum throwing the improbable winning TD pass. As the Vikings got the ball with seconds remaining for a desperation heave-ho, Keenum may already have been reading, in his head, the newspaper and social-media stories about how he took the team down in flames and Minnesota should have started either of the well-known quarterbacks on the bench behind him.
As Keenum stood in the pocket craning his head to try to see what was happening with Stefon Diggs downfield, a look came over his face: a look of, “Wait, hey, I actually did it—I am for real after all!” Millions of Americans could identify with that emotion.
In other NFL news, Tuesday Morning Quarterback contends that the further into the postseason one gets, the more that defense trumps offense. Last season ended with New England’s number-one defense besting Atlanta’s number-one offense. As the playoffs progress, TMQ will have more on this topic. For now, note that three of the NFL’s title-round teams finished in the top four for defense while only one finished in the top four for offense.
Stats of the Divisionals #1. Under Mike Tomlin, the Steelers are 3-4 versus the Jaguars and 121-63 versus all other teams.
Stats of the Divisionals #2. Since the second month of the regular season began, the Patriots have allowed 14 points per game—the fewest in the league.
Stats of the Divisionals #3. In the postseason, New Orleans is 7-3 at home or at a Super Bowl neutral site, but just 1-7 on the road.
Stats of the Divisionals #4. When NFL teams with avian names—the Cardinals, Eagles, Falcons, and Seahawks—face each other in the playoffs, the home team is 10-0.
Stats of the Divisionals #5. Going into the second half versus New Orleans, the Vikings had allowed 17 points in their previous 14 quarters—then they allowed 23 points in two quarters.
Stats of the Divisionals #6. New England has allowed two offensive touchdowns in its last three games.
Stats of the Divisionals #7. In 17 games, the Eagles defense has not allowed a score after the fourth-quarter two-minute warning.
Stats of the Divisionals #8. This season, the Jaguars are 10-0 when Blake Bortles does not throw an interception, and 2-6 when he does.
Stats of the Divisionals #9. New Orleans finishes 0-2 when playing the Vikings at Minnesota, and 12-4 against all other opponents.
Stats of the Divisionals #10. New England made the conference title game for the seventh consecutive season.
Sweet Stand of the Divisionals. Trailing 15-10 with 1:19 remaining, holding two time outs, Atlanta reached first-and-goal on the Philadelphia 9. The Falcons had just converted a 4th-and-6 with a spectacular pass to Julio Jones. When Atlanta was down to its last gasp on that play, the crowd thought the game was over—and the game most definitely was not over.
As Atlanta reached first-and-goal, Nesharim defensive coordinator Jim Schwartz called time to allow his charges to take a deep breath. In last-minute situations, announcers obsess about when the offense should use time outs: Defensive time outs can be just as important. Though calling time stopped the clock for the trailing team, giving Philadelphia’s defense a moment to collect itself was more important.
On first-and-goal, Matt Ryan threw to Jones, incompletion. On second-and-goal, he threw to tailback Terron Ward, incompletion. On third-and-goal, Jones caught a pass for seven yards, making it fourth-and-goal at the 2.
Again Philadelphia called time out—maybe to preserve clock for a desperate field-goal drive the other way, or maybe to let defenders get another breath, since defense is more tiring than offense.
At the snap, the Atlanta offensive line zone-blocked right and Ryan sprinted that direction, looking for Jones in the right corner. This is a classic West Coast goal-line action. “Sprint Right Option” was the winning call at the Cowboys’ goal line for the 49ers on the down now known to sports lore as The Catch. (The NFL’s chimes-and-bells ditty, by Tom Hedden, is titled Sprint Right.)
As Atlanta ran Sprint Right Option, Julio Jones was open. Ryan was under pressure and threw a little high—but the pass was catchable. Jones leapt, just as Dwight Clark leapt on The Catch. Clark caught the ball; Jones let it go through his hands. Sweet for the home team and home crowd. On Christmas Day, the Eagles were booed at home. Now the same people who booed their team on Christmas get to attend a home title contest.
Sweet ‘n’ Sour ‘n’ Sweet Plays of the Divisionals. At home in the wild-card round, Jacksonville went for it on fourth-and-goal and scored the touchdown that won the day. Now it’s fourth-and-goal on the Jax opening possession at Pittsburgh, where nearly all touts expect the six-ring Steelers to brush aside the Florida upstarts. Head coach Doug Marrone again goes on fourth-and-goal—again a touchdown, setting in motion a gigantor upset.
Pittsburgh, trailing 14-0, faces 4th-and-1 on the Jax 21 at the end of the first quarter. Mike Tomlin goes for it, and has a time out to contemplate. The previous snap was a toss right with Le’Veon Bell gaining just one yard. Steelers runs between the tackles were doing well, but tosses and sweeps were not. Steelers coaches call the same play as on the previous snap: toss right, loss of four, Jaguars ball.
For all the crazed second-half action, this was the down that decided the contest, as soon Pittsburgh trailed 21-0 at home in a game the Steelers were supposed to win in their sleep. Sure, a lot of football commentary boils down to, “If they passed they should have run and if they ran they should have passed.” But run the same action that just got stuffed? Could a playcall—after a time out!—have been any worse than this? Pittsburgh would end up going six times on fourth down, converting four, including thrice for touchdowns. The 4th-and-1 left on the table in the first quarter was the key to the game.
Sweet ‘n’ Sour Play of the Divisionals. Flying Elvii leading 21-7 in the third quarter, the defending champions faced second-and-goal on the Flaming Thumbtacks’ 2. Bill Belichick sent out little-used blocking back Brandon Bolden, yet another of the Patriots’ undrafted players, to line up as a fullback. Coming to the line of scrimmage, Tom Brady noticed the Titans’ two inside linebackers exchanging positions. Immediately he barked an audible. Rather than the passing play called in the huddle, Brady had audibled to a quick dive by Bolden, who walked into the end zone untouched. It was Bolden’s first touchdown since 2014, and an untouched touchdown in a playoff game. Sweet.
What was Brady reacting to? From film study he knew the Titans had called a crisscross blitz, in which the inside linebackers cut in front of each other trying to confuse blockers. The crisscross blitz is used against passing plays, and Patriots offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels did radio in 53 passing calls on the night by the game’s end. But the crisscross is vulnerable to runs up the middle—and New England was on the 2-yard line. Center David Andrews, yet another undrafted New England player, and guard Joe Thuney both turned outward so they could slam into the sides of the crisscrossing Titans, who were pushed far out of the way. Allowing an untouched touchdown in the playoffs—sour for Tennessee.
After Bolden scored, cameras showed 80-year-old Hall of Fame Tennessee defensive coordinator Dick LeBeau on the sideline with a look of “what just happened?” on his face. Sitting on a porch in Florida drinking ice tea and watching boats go by must have seemed pretty appealing to him at that moment.
Blocker note: Andrews and Thuney both played well, including getting 20 yards downfield on a 31-yard New England screen pass in the second quarter. Tennessee left tackle Taylor Lewan was dreadful. In the third quarter as Marcus Mariota was sacked consecutive snaps, and both times Lewan whiffed, blocking no one. During one of the whiffs he stood waving his arms—to mean “that’s not my fault, another guy was supposed to get him,” rather than trying to hustle back into the action. Have you ever seen a Belichick-coached player trying to shift blame during a live ball? Lewan was just named to the Pro Bowl, another indicator of TMQ’s contention that offensive linemen make the Pro Bowl on rep, not on actual performance, because even Pro Bowl voters don’t pay any attention to the offensive line.
BOLO of the Divisional Round. All units, all units, be on the lookout for the reputation of Julio Jones. Versus Carolina in November, on fourth down he dropped what could have been the winning pass in the Panthers’ end zone. Versus Philadelphia in the playoffs, he dropped what would have been the winning pass in the Eagles’ end zone, again on fourth down.
Titans at Patriots. Watching Bill Belichick outcoach Mike Mularkey was like watching Mikaela Shiffrin show a novice how to buckle a ski boot. The Titans don’t “roll” their front seven, playing the same guys for entire games. Belichick knew from the inactive list that posts 24 hours before kickoff that only four defensive linemen would dress for the Flaming Thumbtacks. So he had the Patriots quick-snap for much of the contest, getting the ball back in play as fast as possible while preventing Tennessee from substituting—at one juncture in the second quarter, at an Oregon-Ducks-like rate of 19 seconds between New England snaps. By the third quarter, Tennessee’s defenders were visibly gassed, the defensive linemen jogging, not running.
New England uses the quick-snap fairly often, but Tennessee seemed taken by surprise. In week 11 of the regular season, Pittsburgh pounded the Titans by using a quick-snap to gas the Tennessee front seven, yet Mularkey did nothing to prepare for this tactic against the Patriots. New England ended up snapping 80 times, a high number. The snap-snap-snap pace it employed until the contest was out of reach was something Tennessee was not ready for, though in the Pittsburgh game, they’d been warned.
When Tennessee was on offense, on first and second downs New England often showed seven or eight men in the box to stop the run. Yet when the Tennessee bench radioed in rushing calls versus an overstacked front, Marcus Mariota didn’t audible to throw deep, he just stayed with the call. Twice in the first half Mariota threw deep on first down; both times the Titans got long gainers. Then coaches would return to running right into the overstack on expected running downs. The result was Tennessee in long-yardage situations that are killers for a team with such a predictable offense. Tennessee’s third quarter possessions built up to 3rd-and-7, 3rd-and-22, and 3rd-and-31.
When New England had the ball, Tennessee did not jam receivers. On Rob Gronkowski’s touchdown catch, he enjoyed a “free release”—nobody hit him at the line. When, oh when, will New England opponents realize that jamming Tom Brady’s receivers is the key to playing defense against him?

New England’s Brandon Bolden was one of the many Patriots players Tom Brady included in a typically strong performance. Here, the little-used running back reacts after Brady audibled to what ended up being a touchdown run. (Photo by Maddie Meyer/Getty Images)
Saints at Vikings. The winning touchdown by Stefon Diggs will enter sports lore, plus ascend directly to Highlight Reel Heaven. But the haunting New Orleans mistake was not safety Marcus Williams whiffing on the tackle—more on that in a moment. The haunting New Orleans mistake didn’t even occur in the last second.
Minnesota leading 23-21, the Saints had just shocked the home crowd by converting a 4th-and-10, and now had 3rd-and-1 on the Vikes’ 24 with 33 seconds remaining. Minnesota held two time outs. At this juncture, many in the home crowd—and perhaps on the New Orleans sideline—thought the Saints had the game in the bag. But Minnesota could stop the clock twice, and after a New Orleans field goal, could get a win the other way with a field goal of their own. New Orleans needed to gain one yard here in order to drain the clock, then kick as time expired.
Saints coaches called a bland straight-ahead dive: no misdirection. Minnesota stuffed the run. For all the talk of collapse by the league’s number-one defense, at the last, the Vikings got the stop they needed. “Low man wins” is the coaching cliché for short-yardage downs, and the Minnesota front seven got low, while the New Orleans offensive line barely shoved. As Alvin Kamara went down for a loss, there were four defenders on the ground around the ball-carrier but only one offensive lineman on the ground trying to block. The rest of the Saints were standing watching—New Orleans thought they’d already staged an epic comeback and the game was over already. Instead, by failing on 3rd-and-1, the Saints left 25 seconds on the clock.
In the first half Minnesota defenders could do no wrong, shutting New Orleans out and holding Drew Brees to a 26.6 passer rating. If every throw an NFL quarterback makes clangs to the ground incomplete, his rating is 39.6—here is the easy-to-use formula—so Brees was totally shackled in the first half. But his second-half passer rating was 145, close to the maximum of 158.3. In the first half the Saints offense consistently had bad luck; in the second half, mostly good luck. Plus, Vikings defensive coordinator George Edwards called more blitzes in the second half, and top quarterbacks like Brees or Aaron Rodgers want to be blitzed, because that means man-coverage on wide receivers. If good luck was Minnesota’s on the final snap, good luck had been New Orleans’s through most of the second half.
In addition to drama, this game provided an unusual quotient of sweet plays. Minnesota intercepted Brees on a down on which defensive end Everson Griffen tipped Brees’s pass, allowing it to be picked, while facing away from Brees. Somehow, Griffen mind-read the pass timing and stuck his hand up when he couldn’t see his opponent (and was being held—there were perhaps a dozen instances in which Griffen was subjected to wrapped-arms offensive holding without a flag flying.)
Brees, who excels at the bang-slant (meaning very fast release), faked a toss left and then threw one to Michael Thomas. In the fourth quarter, on the first of the two 3rd-and-1s that would bedevil the losers, New Orleans ran the misnamed “double pass”: a lateral then a forward pass. Alvin Kamara was all by his lonesome deep, and wide receiver Willie Snead, a high school quarterback, overthrew him. Had Snead connected, this would have been the play that went to Highlight Reel Heaven.
Kamara’s touchdown catch on a different down came as he lined up as a tailback with two wide receivers right; then motioned into the slot right; then ran his pattern behind the two wide receivers, cutting upfield on a wheel route that was as pretty as football plays get. Kamara was a breath of fresh air for the 2017 season, not only because of his receiving ability but his engaging personal story: washed out at Alabama, went to a community college, transferred to Tennessee but rarely started, ends up as an NFL star. Kamara scored highly on the infamous Wonderlic test, which may explain his ability to learn quickly, since few tailbacks leave college knowing pass routes and blitz blocking.
The Vikings defense has star power while the Vikings offense features undrafted Case Keenum throwing to undrafted, Division-2 Adam Thielen, who gained 1,287 yards from scrimmage during the regular season. Thielen’s difficult catch with 1:55 remaining was almost as important to the Vikes as the winning reception, setting up the field goal that was the second of the game’s four late lead changes. In recent years Minnesota has invested four first-round draft selections in quarterbacks and wide receivers. On Sunday, only one of them got into the game, and then only briefly. Undrafted to undrafted was the battery instead.

It wasn’t just Stefon Diggs. This outstanding catch from Adam Thielen, blanketed by New Orleans’s Marshon Lattimore, helped set up a go-ahead field goal late in the fourth quarter that the Saints would answer—setting in motion in the spectacular ending. (Photo by Nick Wosika/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)
Keenum has 23 touchdown throws versus just eight interceptions to this point, but he tends to launch crazed, cringeworthy passes. He launched four versus New Orleans: One was incomplete, one was intercepted, and two were caught to set up scores. The sophisticated defense run by Eagles defensive coordinator Jim Schwartz most likely will practice this week catching high-arcing crazed passes in case Keenum launches some in Philadelphia.
Last word on the last play: Marcus Williams whiffed when simply wrapping Stefon Diggs up would have won the game for New Orleans (the clock would have expired). But his was hardly the only error by the visitors on the final down.
Williams and the opposite safety, Vonn Bell, both were playing to protect the sideline against a quick catch then a step out of bounds to allow Minnesota to attempt a long field goal to win. This was the same assumption that Georgia’s defense made before Alabama’s winning play in the big-college football title game—that the offense was trying for kicking position, not for the end zone.
At the snap both New Orleans safeties were relatively shallow—there was no one protecting the New Orleans goal line. Saints defensive coordinator Dennis Allen seems to have expected Minnesota would try a short play, then step out of bounds, setting up a last grand-finale snap with a couple of seconds left. When Minnesota instead went deep on the snap with 10 seconds showing, neither Saints safety practiced the rule of “keep everything in front of you.” And neither safety had deep help. Bell never even appears in the camera frame as Diggs races down the field untouched—he seems to have quit on the play immediately. New Orleans thought the game was already over. It wasn’t. The positioning of the safeties is on the coaches, not on Williams.
Hanging by Fingertips Update. You’re nobody in modern cinema unless you’ve hung by your fingertips from a dizzying height. Becoming the first female Doctor on Dr. Who, actress Jodie Whitaker hung by her fingertips from the open door of a high-flying TARDIS. If she’d just walked out of the phone booth, that would not have done the trick. Hollywood, British celluloid, maybe Bollywood as well—anybody who’s anybody hangs by the fingertips.
In all three of the Star Trek reboot movies, New-and-Improved Kirk and New-and-Improved Scotty hang by their fingertips from dizzying heights. In the 1994 Trek movie Generations, Old Original Kirk hung by his fingertips in his death scene. In the Star Wars flick Rogue One, Jyn Erso hung by her fingertips from a dizzying height not once but twice and she didn’t have The Force, just, apparently, really strong hands. In The Last Jedi, Finn and Rose hang by their fingertips over a yawning chasm; in The Force Awakens, Han Solo dies by failing to hang by his fingertips and then tumbling into a bottomless pit. (See an earlier TMQ for the latest on bottomless pits; Rey leapt into one in The Last Jedi.)
Sci-fi flicks tend toward the preposterous, of course, but hanging by the fingertips from a dizzying height is not confined to this genre. Kate McKinnon hangs by her fingertips on the side of a New York City building in the remake of Ghostbusters.
Ahn Seo-hyun, the 14-year-old actress who plays the protagonist of the Netflix flick Okja—proposed poster tagline: “If you can see only one South Korean sentient giant pig movie this year, see Okja!”—hangs by her fingertips at the edge of a towering cliff. Fortunately, the sentient giant pig saves her.
Despite this, an evil American corporation wants to slaughter the porcine hero in order to manufacture ham jerky. Boo, hiss, boo! The real fantasy aspect of this film was not genetic engineering of elephant-sized intelligent pigs, rather, the notion there is a fantastic fortune to be made by increasing the supply of jerky in convenience stores.
All of Peter Parker’s love interests in the uncountable Spiderman reboots have hung by their fingertips from great heights. Actress Laura Harrier, Spidey’s love interest in the new Spider-Man: Homecoming, hung by her fingertips from the outside of the Washington Monument. In the first batch of Spiderman flicks, Kirsten Dunst as MJ hung by her fingertips from so many bridges, construction cranes, and collapsing secret headquarters that this was like a dating scene: “Peter, you never hurl me off a skyscraper anymore.”
People even hang by their fingertips in rom-coms. In Kate & Leopold, a time-travel rom-com (why isn’t there an Oscar category for this?) that paired Hugh Jackman and Meg Ryan, our heroes dangle by their fingertips from the side of the Brooklyn Bridge. Surely the godfather of these scenes is in North by Northwest, in which Eva Marie Saint and Gary Grant not only hang by their fingertips from Mount Rushmore, they must cling desperately to George Washington’s nose. The bad guys, of course, tumble to their doom—in the movies, virtuous characters have much stronger fingers than sinister characters.
Speaking of the egregious Star Trek Beyond, this awful flick begins where The Original Series began, with Captain Kirk—in this case New-and-Improved Kirk—declaring that the Enterprise is on a five-year mission to explore deep space. New-and-Improved Kirk explains that the crew has been traveling farther into deep space for three years, has become squirrelly, and needs shore leave. So they stop at a starbase.
How can the Enterprise have traveled away from Earth, into uncharted space, for three years, only to encounter a Starfleet facility already there? And not just any facility: an ultra-enormous starbase where, audiences are told, a million people live. It’s the most complicated construction project in all of human history, yet it’s described as floating three years into deep uncharted space.
The movie never explains why the ultra-enormous starbase was built near a mysterious nebula that resists sensor scans. (The movie’s MacGuffins emerge from the mysterious nebula.) Worse, the million-person ultra-enormous space city has one single button that switches off all life support.
Falcons at Eagles. Philadelphia went for it on fourth down 26 times in the regular season, second-most in the league, converting a league-high 17 times. So it was only fitting that the big play of Philadelphia’s first home postseason contest in many moons was a fourth-down try.
Reaching fourth-and-goal on the Atlanta 1 in the first half, Philadelphia put three tight ends on the field and scored a touchdown with the tailback behind pulling guard Brandon Brooks, who made a perfect seal block on the right side. (Brooks had a tremendous game, handling Atlanta’s Grady Jarrett, who had his way the previous week versus the Rams.) As this column often notes, sportswriters and announcers call it a “huge gamble” to go on fourth down—but often, it’s playing the percentages. Not only was Philadelphia likely to convert what was essentially 4th-and-1—had the Eagles failed, Atlanta would have been pinned against its own goal line.
At the endgame, facing 4th-and-1 on the Atlanta 3, holding a 12-10 lead, Doug Pederson elected to kick a field goal; once the fourth quarter is reached and the endgame scoring dynamic is clear, field goals become appealing. Of course, had Atlanta not been stopped by Philadelphia’s last-minute goal line stand, the sports world would now be saying Pederson should have danced with what brung him and gone for it here, too.
In addition to leading the NFL in fourth-down conversions, Philadelphia led in deuce tries, going for two nine times and converting six. An NFL deuce is essentially 4th-and-2—the college deuce is 4th-and-3—so when Philadelphia practices short-yardage fourth-down plays it is practicing deuce plays at the same time.
Why does Doug Pederson go for it on fourth down and go for two so often compared to his NFL peers? Because Pederson began as a high school coach.
High schools go for it on fourth down a lot (prep punts are often short anyway) and go for two a lot (young placekickers often miss anyway). Pederson and Dirk Koetter of the Buccaneers are the sole NFL headmasters who have been head coaches at the prep level, where going for it is normal. All other NFL head coaches have backgrounds in the ultra-conservative professional world, where coaches send in the kicker so they don’t get blamed. Don’t be surprised if the NFC championship comes down to a Pederson decision to go for it on fourth down or on the try that follows a touchdown.
Hidden Play of the Divisionals. Hidden plays are ones that never make highlight reels but affect games. Atlanta leading 10-6 with five seconds remaining before intermission, Philadelphia had the ball at the midfield stripe, no time outs. Nick Foles threw a quick out to Alshon Jeffery, who got out of bounds with one second showing, allowing the Nesharim to hit a long field goal as time expired. These points caused the endgame dynamic in which the Eagles’ late field goal forced Atlanta to play for a touchdown.
Saturday’s contests, at Philadelphia and at New England, both had the home team awarded one second before halftime in which to attempt a field goal. On both snaps, it seemed hard to believe the clock didn’t click down to zero. Then after the final offensive play at Pittsburgh, officials put one second back on the clock to give the Steelers a last zillion-to-one chance on the kickoff. Three of the four weekend games entailed a clock favor to the home team.
The league issued a statement saying that the NFL, not the home team, is the employer of the clock operator. Uh-huh. Sure.
Jaguars at Steelers. Pittsburgh was looking ahead to New England in the AFC title rematch—and in a new twist on looking ahead in sports, was depressed ahead. The Steelers assumed they would dispatch upstart Jax, then return to Foxborough to be humiliated yet again. Going into Sunday’s game, Mike Tomlin was 3-11 versus New England, 121-55 versus all other teams. The Steelers would beat Jax, then get roasted. This played on their minds. They just forgot the beat-Jax part.
As Charean Williams reported, Steelers Pro Bowler David DeCastro complained afterward of locker room focus on New England. DeCastro did his share by being horrible: shoved backward into Ben Roethlisberger by Jacksonville nose tackle Marcell Dareus on a key sack. DeCastro was far from the only Steeler who gave less than full effort. On the late first quarter 4th-and-1 that was the (unusually early) decisive down, there were nine Jacksonville players around the ball compared to six Pittsburgh blockers. Through the course of this contest many Steelers took downs off saving up energy to endure the coming humiliation at New England. They just forgot the beat-Jax part.
On the Jacksonville scoop-and-score touchdown that put the visitors ahead 28-7, only three Steelers chased Telvin Smith, the Jag with the ball, as he ran 50 yards, taunting hometown star Le’Veon Bell. Later, when Bell caught a touchdown pass while covered by Smith, Bell celebrated wildly. Pittsburgh still trailed at that juncture. Bell was celebrating a win that hadn’t happened yet—because the Steelers forgot the beat-Jax part.

All signs pointed to a Jacksonville upset of Pittsburgh on Sunday. A few limbs did, too, like Telvin Smith here celebrating a fumble return for a touchdown. (Photo by Brett Carlsen/Getty Images)
Nobody in the NFL talks, talks, talks about himself like Le’Veon Bell does—and this was the second consecutive season that ended with a Steelers playoff implosion as Bell was outperformed.
The game was sealed by who-dat Tommy Bohanon. Jax leading 35-28, the visitors faced 2nd-and-8 on the hosts’ 14. Bohanon, a blocking back with one career touchdown reception in four NFL seasons entering the game, lined up as a fullback. Blake Bortles play-faked. Bohanon ran straight up the middle of the Pittsburgh defense and was ignored. Bortles lobbed him the touchdown pass that put the home crowd into panic mode; Bohanon was uncovered by anyone.
The storied Pittsburgh defense gave up 45 points at home to a squad the low-voltage Buffalo Bills had just held to 10 points on Jax’s own field, hard upon being unable to stop New England’s length-of-the-field winning drive in the final two minutes at home. Pittsburgh finished the regular season seventh against points, allowing an average of 19 ppg—but versus New England and then Jacksonville, both times at home, it was like Pittsburgh forgot how to play football.
Who-dat bonus: Early in the fourth quarter, Jacksonville set up a touchdown by completing a 45-yard pass to Keelan Cole. Who dat? Cole is an undrafted free agent from Division-2 Kentucky Wesleyan. This season Cole had more receiving yards than Steelers star Marvatis Bryant.
The Football Gods Chortled. Early in the fourth quarter at Minneapolis, Case Keenum completed a long pass that the receiver might have bobbled. The Vikes rushed up to the line of scrimmage to snap before a challenge, Keenum frantically gesturing to teammates to hurry.
Doesn’t doing this only serve to alert the opponent to challenge? TMQ thinks that teams that hurry up to the line to snap before a challenge are more likely to call down a challenge upon themselves.
Zebras upheld the result of the play, costing Sean Payton a second-half time out. So maybe rushing up to the line of scrimmage was an elaborate ploy to deprive the Saints of a time out in a close game. More likely, teams that fear a challenge should act as though they do not fear a challenge.
The 500 Club. The Pittsburgh Steelers became a rare professional member as they gained 545 yards and lost. Ben Roethlisberger threw for 469 yards against the league’s number-one pass defense—and that turned out to be not enough to win a modern football shootout.
Single Worst Play of the Season—So Far. Safety Marcus Williams’s whiff on the final snap of Saints at Vikings was memorably bad, but a very fast athletic reaction. This column thinks that awful plays you have a moment to think about are worse.
Thus a Single Worst Play runner-up is awarded to Mike Tomlin. When Pittsburgh scored to pull within 42-35 with 2:37 remaining versus Jacksonville, Tomlin had his charges onside kick. TMQ extols the surprise onside, but the expected onside has only a 10-percent chance of success, and needless to say, it did not work here. At 2:37, Pittsburgh held two time outs. That and the two-minute warning meant that kicking away and then trying for a three-and-out was more promising to Pittsburgh than an expected onside.
But Single Worst goes to Mike Mularkey. Defending champion New England leading 14-7 in the second quarter, Tennessee faced 4th-and-2 in Patriots territory. That cannot seriously be the punt team coming onto the field! You can’t dance with the champ, you have to knock him down! New England has the league’s best scoring offense, while Tennessee fields an average defense—punting the ball back to Bill Belichick is doing precisely what he wants!
Fielding the punt, New England drove 91 yards the other way for the touchdown that turned the contest into a walkover. Then with 25 seconds remaining in the first half, out of time outs, very unlikely to attain a good result, then Tennessee went for it on fourth down.
Mularkey ought to be a subject of sympathy, since he led the Titans to their first playoff win in 15 years, only to be shown the door a few days later. At least he went out with a distinction—his baffling fourth-down decisions at New England are the worst plays of the season. So far.
Next Week. Weeks ago TMQ’s Authentic Games metric forecast a Super Bowl of Minnesota versus New England—will it happen?