Tuesday Morning Quarterback: Has Doug Pederson Changed NFL Coaching Forever?

Head coaches across the NFL resist the sports-analytic logic showing that going on fourth-and-short, and on fourth-and-goal, improves the chances of victory, even if some attempts fail. Many coaches know the math that favors the fourth-down attempt. They also know that if they send in a kicker and the team goes on to defeat, the players will be blamed; if they order a try that fails, they will be blamed. In a profession that pays several million dollars per year but offers scant job security, anything a head coach can do to prolong his tenure makes sense for him, even if not for the team. So coaches send in kickers, secure in the knowledge that’s what owners expect, while network announcers will say they “have to” kick.

Now the Philadelphia Eagles have won the Super Bowl by going for it—twice, first at the white line in the first half and then at midfield in the fourth quarter.

Leading 15-12 with 38 seconds before intermission, facing fourth-and-goal on the defending champions’ 1 yard line, the Eagles went for it. When NFL coaches go for it, usually it is late in the game, when they are perceived as having no choice—and thus not to blame for the outcome. Eagles head coach Doug Pederson went for it in the first half, while holding a lead. Had the attempt failed, he would have been roasted in sports commentary as someone who botched the Super Bowl and was revealed as some high-school guy at heart. (Pederson is one of the NFL’s two head coaches who got his first break in high school.)

Indeed, the fourth-and-goal was unusually bold, because with only seconds remaining before Justin Timberlake, had the try failed, the consolation prize of pinning the opponent against his goal line would not have meant much.

At any rate Philadelphia succeeded. To go for it rather than do the “safe” thing and kick translated to Super Bowl victory against the 800-pound gorilla of the contemporary NFL. Will this force NFL head coaches to accept the logic of going for it?

Will it force network announcers to have a look at the math? Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth were shocked when Pederson kept the offense on the field in the second quarter, then spent much of the broadcast reliving their shock, as if they’d just seen a flying saucer land. In announcer school, they certainly teach you to chortle. They should teach you some math, too. Here is Tuesday Morning Quarterback going into the mathematics of the fourth-down try in 2007, years before sports analytics became all the rage.

Trailing 33-32, the Eagles faced 4th-and-1 at midfield with 5:39 remaining in the fourth quarter. Just as they would have sent out a placekicker on the fourth-and-goal, most NFL coaches would have sent out a punter in this situation, and later offered some rationalization like, “I decided to put it on our defense.” Pederson went for it, the Eagles converted, and then scored a touchdown on the possession, taking the lead for good.

Contrast this to the New England Patriots. Bill Belichick has more job security than anyone wearing an NFL whistle, and has the mysterious Ernie Adams on his side, the master of arcana. Yet trailing 9-3 in the first quarter and facing 4th-and-1 on the Philadelphia 8, Belichick motioned for the placekicker. Outraged, the football gods pushed the short field goal attempt to the side.

The skies darkened when Belichick sent the kicker out, but you couldn’t see that inside the Minneapolis dome. Not only does the math strongly favor going for it on fourth-and-short when trailing: Since there was ample clock and the Flying Elvii were close to the Philadelphia goal line, they would have been assured of at least the consolation prize of an opponent pinned deep. Instead the missed kick brought the ball out to the 20.

Later, Belichick would keep his offense on the field on 4th-and-5 in a Maroon Zone dilemma: too close to punt, too far for a field goal. And at panic time, the Patriots went on 4th-and-10.

But in the consequential fourth-down decisions of the 2018 Super Bowl—the ones where most coaches would send out a kicker—the Eagles went for it and the Patriots didn’t. Then the Eagles won the Super Bowl. If anything will ever get NFL head coaches to stop kicking on fourth-and-short, shouldn’t it be winning the Super Bowl? Fewer kicks and more touchdowns could only have one impact: to make professional football more exciting.

Here’s me even earlier, in 2006, on this topic, concluding that the math of fourth-and-short suggests that going for it means your team “will score once more than you otherwise would have”—and the Eagles won the Super Bowl by one score. The 2007 follow-up contains a cheat sheet for when to go for it versus punt or placekick.

Praise be to the football gods that the Super Bowl did not end on the officials signaling a touchdown against the Patriots and then replay taking the touchdown away.

Three times this season the zebras on the field signaled a touchdown catch versus the Patriots, then a phone call from the league operations center took the points off the board. If this had occurred on the Zach Ertz touchdown catch with 2:25 remaining in the Super Bowl, the sense that officials favor the Patriots would have spiraled out of control, tainting the Super Bowl result and ruining the season.

The catch/no catch question has bedeviled the NFL for years. Every time there’s a big catch/no catch controversy, the explanations shift. In commonsense terms the Ertz play was OBVIOUSLY A TOUCHDOWN, since Ertz had clear possession when he entered the end zone. But the action looked like other OBVIOUS touchdowns that have been overturned this season, including late in the Patriots-Steelers contest.

Michaels and Collinsworth argued during the long replay review about what constitutes a catch, showing that even two guys who are highly paid to specialize in football can’t understand the rule. That referee Gene Steratore spent several minutes discussing the play with his superiors shows the zebras can’t understand the rule. Calls on the field are supposed to be overturned only if it’s indisputable the call was wrong—but for it to be indisputable, you’d have to be able to understand the rule!

Confused? Three years ago the NFL issued this helpful “clarification”:

Just try keeping that in your head at game speed. Not even the Supreme Court knows what that verbiage means.

Shortly before the Super Bowl, Roger Goodell promised the offseason would see yet another clarification of the catch/no catch rule. Tuesday Morning Quarterback proposes this short, simple new definition:

It’s a catch if it looks like a catch.

I am in earnest! I’ve gone over many possible lengthy definitions and all have faults. “It’s a catch if it looks like a catch” is short, accessible, universal, and easily applied to any situation. And bulletproof! If it doesn’t look like a catch, well, then it’s not a catch.

Asked in 1964 to define pornography, Justice Potter Stewart said, “Perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so, but I know it when I see it.” The rarely-quoted first half of his construction is important. TMQ proposes this same reasoning be applied to catch/no catch. Perhaps football can never intelligibly define the catch, but we know it when we see it. Make that the definition!

This Super Bowl was among the most entertaining ever, ending this fractious, declining-ratings season on a happy note. Entertainers say “save the best for last” because this leaves the audience longing for more. New England and Philadelphia saved the best for last, and for all the protests, head injuries, subsidies, and sheer nonsense of this season, by next autumn, Americans will be longing for more.

Stats of the Super Bowl #1. The game set the Super Bowl record for most total offensive yards while it was still the third quarter.

Stats of the Super Bowl #2. Teams with green as their primary jersey color are 7-4 in the Super Bowl. Teams with blue are 11-15.

Stats of the Super Bowl #3. LeGarrette Blount and Chris Long won Super Bowl rings in consecutive seasons—playing for different teams.

Stats of the Super Bowl #4. Regular-season MVPs who reach the Super Bowl are on a 0-9 streak, including three in a row (Cam Newton in 2016 Super Bowl, Matt Ryan in 2017, and Tom Brady in 2018).

Stats of the Super Bowl #5. In their three most recent Super Bowls—versus Seattle, Atlanta, and Philadelphia—the Patriots fell behind by a combined 81-36 then came back by a combined 59-12.

Stats of the Super Bowl #6. In college and the pros, Blount is 11-2 in the postseason. In the NFL he has 11 postseason rushing touchdowns, tied for sixth all-time with Marcus Allen. Yet Blount went un-drafted and has been released by the Titans, Buccaneers, Steelers, and Patriots (twice).

Stats of the Super Bowl #7. Of the seven new head coaches who joined NFL clubs to start the 2016 season, three are already fired; three have a combined 31-65 record; and Doug Pederson is 23-12 with a Super Bowl victory. Pederson is the only one of the seven who regularly goes for it in situations where most coaches send in a kicker.

Stats of the Super Bowl #8. There were more passes to quarterbacks (two) than punts (one).

Stats of the Super Bowl #9. All eight Tom Brady Super Bowls have come down to the final minute; the Patriots are 5-3 while just plus-four in points in those contests.

Stats of the Super Bowl #10. The Eagles defense did not allow a score in the final two minutes of the fourth quarter for the entire season.

Sweet Blocks of the Super Bowl. Announcers and sportswriters extol quarterbacks; TMQ extols linemen. In a game with 1,151 yards of offense, the offensive lines must have outperformed the defensive lines. On LeGarrette Blount’s touchdown rush, Eagles center Jason Kelce blocked his man at the line, then got to the second level for another block—two defenders neutralized on the same play. On the 46-yard catch-and-run by New England’s Rex Burkhead, Flying Elvii guard Joe Thuney got well downfield for the block that made most of the gain possible.

Sour Play of the Super Bowl. Philadelphia leading 15-3 halfway through the second quarter, New England faced 3rd-and-8 on the Eagles 27. Josh McDaniels called a sideways flare action to tailback James White. Philadelphia end Chris Long “chipped” White—slammed him as he tried to start his pattern—causing the pass to fall incomplete; New England settled for a field goal. (Receivers behind the line of scrimmage can be hit in ways that would be illegal downfield.) It’s hard to say an offense that gained 613 yards in the Super Bowl was sour. Yet on a night when Tom Brady was extremely effective throwing down the field, a sketchy-looking sideways action on third-and-long made this columnist scratch his head.

Sweet ‘n’ Sour Passes to the Quarterback. Eagles leading 9-3 in the second quarter, the defending champions faced 3rd-and-5 on the Philadelphia 35. Tom Brady handed off; paused for an instant; then snuck into the right flat where Danny Amendola—who connected for 20 yards on a trick play in the AFC title game—threw him the ball. Brady dropped it, and the possession ended without points.

Just as baseball players chide pitchers for not being able to bat, football players chide quarterbacks for possessing “skillet hands,” which means what you’d look like if you tried to catch a flying skillet. That’s what Brady looked like. And though he was open, why was a guy with an injured hand the primary receiver on a third-down play? Josh McDaniels’s offense posted a dazzling 613 yards, yet this down—including the play design—was sour.

Eagles leading 15-13 with 38 seconds remaining before intermission, Philadelphia faced fourth-and-goal on the New England 1. The decision to go for it is lauded above. But how did they go for it?

The prior snap had been an incompletion. Doug Pederson called time out, brought Nick Foles to the sidelines, showed Foles something he was holding close to his chest like poker cards, and sent Foles back in. The whole sideline conference lasted five seconds. It seemed there was something for Foles’s eyes only, not for the helmet radio that the Patriots are rumored (hey, this is strictly a rumor!) to eavesdrop on.

The Eagles came out without Blount, their power back. Un-drafted Corey Clement lined up as an I-back behind where the quarterback would be. Instead of going under center, Foles walked along the line of scrimmage appearing to shout instructions to the blockers. If he had paused behind center, the rules would have required him to take the snap—but he never paused behind center. Foles ended up next to the right tackle, still appearing to bark instructions, but it was strictly a fake to get him wide without making the defense realize a trick play was coming.

Clement was left as the one behind center. He took a direct snap as Foles sprinted toward the right corner. Clement flipped the ball to un-drafted backup tight end Trey Burton, who was a star quarterback in high school. Burton threw a touchdown pass to Foles. Not only did going for it on fourth-and-goal in the first half become the sweetest play of the 52nd Super Bowl. This down was also the sweetest trick play of all Super Bowl plays.

And it allows Eagles fans to boast to Patriots fans: My quarterback can beat your quarterback at pass catching!

The Memos Are Worse Than They Look; But Overall, It’s Better Than It Looks. TMQ cleaves to the notion that shocking disclosures usually are less than meets the eye. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the causes and motivations of human action—whether personal, economic, government, or societal—are not driven by secret information, rather, are self-evident. In early 1914 and again in early 1939, one did not need coded documents to know war was coming in Europe; in early 1973, one did not need hidden tapes to know the Nixon presidency was doomed; there are countless other examples. In the run-up to the November 2016 presidential election, 99 percent of what voters needed to know about Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton, in order to make an informed choice, as widely known. And even if there are scandalous surprises involving President Trump today, what’s known to everyone about him—his policies, his public statements, his character—is sufficient to understand who he is.

This, to your columnist, makes both the Steele and Nunes memos overrated. Once seen rather than just whispered about, the Steele memo was revealed to be low-rent unsourced anonymous gossip; once seen rather than just hash-tagged about, the Nunes memo was revealed to be a campaign press release dressed up with pseudo-legalese. Both memos are glorified galimatias; that the political world went into a dither about them does not reflect well on serious opinion.

The amusing detail is that Kashyap Patel, an attorney who is the main author of the Nunes memo, was once slapped by a federal judge with an Order on Ineptitude. This was first reported by Katie Rogers and Michael Rosenberg; here is the order itself. (One can only wonder what the “snippy electronic message” was.) While federal judges sometimes sanction lawyers for poor performance, the phrase Order on Ineptitude is not common. The Order on Ineptitude sounds like something the king would bestow on a viscount who left the royal jewels in a tavern after drinking too much mead. Next season, TMQ will award an Order on Ineptitude to football coaches.

The serious detail is that the White House is employing the Nunes memo to maintain the illusion that the United States is in some kind of awful condition. “I think it’s terrible, it’s a disgrace what’s happening in our country, a lot of people should be ashamed of themselves and much worse than that,” Trump said as the memo went public.

My book to be released in two weeks—It’s Better Than It Looks: Reasons for Optimism in an Age of Fear—shows in considerable detail that the condition of the United States has never been better; that much, though of course not all of the world has never been in better condition; that major negatives like violence, poverty, disease, pollution, and discrimination are in long-term decline almost everywhere, while major positives like education, longevity, living standards, and economic power for women are rising long-term almost everywhere; that political, technological, and social reforms are more effective at turning negatives into positives than commonly understood; and that practical reforms exist to address climate change, inequality, and other pressing problems.

It’s Better Than It Looks delves into the psychology of declinist views, today exemplified by Trump, who used the declinist illusion to propel himself into the Oval Office and now tries to sustain a kind of permanent-emergency impression about current events. Academics, pundits, and many others need to see that optimism, not declinism, is the factual analysis of our moment—and is the strongest argument for the next round of reforms.

I would be tickled pink if you would preorder It’s Better Than It Looks. The way modern publishing has evolved, preorders and purchases in the first two weeks following publication are the keys to a book launch. Thoughtful books, whether nonfiction or literary, used to build slowly over long periods. Now a book has a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, to catch the public’s eye. If you would preorder It’s Better Than It Looks you would help me personally, of course, but also help the positive worldview that the book embodies.

Moment in the Sun for the Un-drafted. In bygone days, Tuesday Morning Quarterback produced an annual All-Unwanted All-Pros: a roster of the NFL’s best players who were un-drafted, or let go, or both. Annually I contended that my All-Unwanted All-Pros would defeat the actual All-Pro team, comprised of first-round selections and celebrity athletes.

This year the All-Unwanted All-Pros merged with the Super Bowl. The New England Patriots, renowned for getting great performances from players no other team wanted, had an amazing 18 un-drafted players on their gameday roster. The Philadelphia Eagles had nine un-drafted guys.

Un-drafted players who started in the Super Bowl: Ryan Allen, Danny Amendola, David Andrews, LeGarrette Blount, Dannelle Ellerbe, James Harrison, Chris Hogan, Eric Lee, and Rodney McLeod. (Un-drafted Malcolm Butler was a surprise benchwarmer.) Un-drafted Corey Clement came off the bench to gain 108 yards from scrimmage, and score a touchdown, for the Eagles. Un-drafted Trey Burton threw a touchdown pass for the Eagles. Un-drafted, thrice-waived Hogan gained 128 yards receiving for the Patriots. Un-drafted Andrews had a terrific game versus Philadelphia defensive line star Fletcher Cox—Andrews blocked Cox about half the time, helping hold him to one tackle and no sacks.

Eagles running Corey Clement (30 in green) finds a tight window to receive a TD pass from QB Nick Foles in the first quarter of Super Bowl 52. Clement, a former University of Wisconsin tailback, wasn’t drafted by an NFL franchise. (Photo by Nick Wosika/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)

Bad Predictions on the March. The realm of sports has been aflutter with Super Bowl predictions. I won’t review them, since as was learned in the 2016 presidential election, even if there is a 50/50 chance of being right, it’s amazingly easy to be wrong. For what it’s worth, the Washington Post forecast with hyper-precision that New England had a “78 percent chance” of winning by “7 to 8 points.” The New York Times forecast New England winning by an exact final score of 28-26—though there have only been three 28-26 outcomes in the last decade’s 2,670 NFL games. (The most common outcome, 20-17, has occurred 42 times in that span.)

Then there is Sports Illustrated, home of the cover curse. Sports Illustrated puts its prediction of New England 27, Philadelphia 16, on the cover, thus engaging the curse. “[Tom Brady’s] sixth Super Bowl title will be achieved in even more impressive fashion than the first five,” S.I. foresaw.

Last month Sports Illustrated predicted the Pittsburgh defense would get the Steelers into Super Bowl. Three days after the issue appeared, the Pittsburgh defense gave up 45 points at home in a playoff loss. Going into the 2016 NFL season, Sports Illustrated said Arizona would win the Super Bowl; Arizona did not make the playoffs. The previous year the magazine said Baltimore would win the Super Bowl; Baltimore failed to make the playoffs.

Last month the magazine predicted Clemson would win the big-college football title; the Tigers lost in the first round. Before the 2017 college football season began, Sports Illustrated predicted a final four of Alabama, Clemson, Florida State, and Michigan: Florida State finished 7-6 and the head coach was fired. On the eve of the 2015 college football season, Sports Illustrated predicted the playoff bracket would be Auburn, Notre Dame, Ohio State, and TCU. None made that season’s playoff.

Sports Illustrated predicted a 2017 men’s basketball final four of Duke, Kansas, Villanova, and Oregon: only Oregon made the final four, while Duke and Villanova failed to reach the sweet 16.

Bad predictions bonus! On the day of the release of the 2017 March Madness brackets, CBS Sports ran championship predictions from on-air analysts Charles Barkley, Gary Parrish, Clark Kellogg, and Seth Davis. They combined to predict that Arizona, Duke, UCLA, or Villanova would win the men’s title. None reached the Final Four—and this prediction whiff came from gentlemen who are basketball experts.

Bad predictions rule the world! Jeff Sommer shows that Wall Street stock pickers consistently do worse than chance. In recent years Federal Reserve “central tendency” forecasts generally have foreseen more growth than occurs. The overshoot is only by a couple of tenths of a percent. But forecasting more growth than is likely makes the national debt seem less of an issue—a couple of tenths of a percent of growth swings the annual federal deficit by hundreds of billions of dollars. This in turn allows the White House, of either party, to give out goody bags full of borrow-and-spend. Don’t worry, Janet Yellen says there will be no more financial crises in “our lifetimes.” Bear in mind she’s 71.

In 2017, Jeff Bezos said there would be tourists in space in 2018, while Richard Branson said this would happen by spring 2018. Bezos, Branson, and other space entrepreneurs have kept up public interest by consistently predicting flights that never actually happen: Branson’s space vehicles have not even fired an engine in flight in almost four years. Here is Branson in 2012 predicting that space tourism would begin that year. Predictions of private space flight about to begin fall into the “too good to check” category.

Richard Branson, staring into space, where he still will see no tourists traveling. (Photo by SAV/GC Images)

Goldman Sachs predicted last year that profitable asteroid mining is about to begin. Mining the sea floor and remote areas of Earth is way too expensive to be practical, but outer-space mining isn’t? Bernard Madoff never tried to fleece investors so brazenly.

Best Bad Prediction: On August 24, 2015, the Dow dropped 1,000 points in a few hours. At noon that day on CNN, Cristina Alesci declared, “One thing is for sure, we’re no longer going to see any steady rise in the market.” That night Jim Cramer said on NBC News that anyone who had purchased stocks on margin should “sell tomorrow no matter what,” which would make sense only if a long downturn was beginning. Since the summer 2015 moment when CNN and Cramer predicted a long winter coming for the stock market, the Dow has risen 55 percent.

Leftover Super Bowl Observations. A Super Bowl with 74 points and 1,151 yards of offense sure was entertaining—and professional sports are, fundamentally, a form of entertainment. But why the sudden outburst of yards and points?

Both New England and Philadelphia had not played away from home since December 17. In four consecutive home appearances, the Flying Elvii allowed 16, 6, 14, and 20 points. In four consecutive home appearances, the Nesharim allowed 10, 6, 10, and 7 points. Both teams were averaging less than 325 yards allowed in the playoffs when at home; once not at home, Philadelphia allowed 613 yards and New England allowed 538 yards. Denied the comforts of home—and crowd energy, which benefits defense more than offense—both teams struggled to get the other off the field.

Those who follow Patriots history know the kill shot of the 2008 Super Bowl—the game in which New England came within 39 seconds of 19-0 perfection—was a panic-time Jay Alford sack on Tom Brady on second down. Alford simply blew past New England’s right guard that day, and as Brady hit the ground, so did his team’s hopes. Now it’s the 2018 Super Bowl. Philadelphia leads by five points just before the two-minute warning, New England had the ball and a time out; the table is set for another of Brady’s drives to win as time expires. On second down, Brandon Graham blows past the right guard and sacks Brady. The ball comes loose, and you know the rest.

TMQ’s football musical will be titled Lend Me a Tight End, since the tall, fast tight end unlocks a modern NFL defense—tall fast guys present an impossible matchup for even the best defense. To start the third quarter, Brady threw to Rob Gronkowski on five of seven snaps, concluding with a Gronk touchdown. Tight ends Gronkowski and Zach Ertz of Philadelphia combined for three touchdowns on 183 yards of receiving, with Ertz recording the game’s pivotal score. New England endured its first postseason loss in a game in which Gronkowski scored a touchdown. This happened because the opponent had a tall, fast tight end, too.

The item TMQ ended up not writing would have been about why Philadelphia insisted on running on first down. On most first downs, the Patriots showed an over-stack of seven or eight men in the box, yet the Eagles ran straight into it, for minimal gains. Perhaps Belichick and Matt Patricia brought so many bodies “down into the box” because they felt Nick Foles was operating a limited game plan that did not give him authority to audible out of a called rush to a deep pass. It was perplexing why the Eagles didn’t seem to get that New England was over-stacking on expected running downs. But since Philadelphia won, I won’t write that item.

Though denied Sunday, Tom Brady still has 11 fourth-quarter or overtime postseason comeback victories. That is more than the total number of postseason victories of all types by all but six quarterbacks in NFL annals.

Grating Announcer Habit. “It was almost intercepted!” Chris Collinsworth squealed in the second quarter as Malcolm Jenkins defended a pass. Watch the tape: Jenkins barely got his fingertip on the ball, a nice play, but he never had any chance of a pick. Ninety percent of the time that announcers cry “it was almost intercepted!” what they mean is that a defender tipped the pass, usually while falling down. The game is exciting as it is; you don’t need to pretend things “almost!” happened.

State Standings. Annually TMQ compiles NFL standings by state. Standings are based on where teams actually play. For example, the Potomac Drainage Basin Indigenous Persons practice in Virginia and perform in Maryland, not so much as having the decency to maintain an office in Washington, D.C., which they pretend to represent. This year’s State Standings:

Pennsylvania (Super Bowl-winning state): 29-7

Massachusetts: 15-4

Minnesota: 14-4

Louisiana: 12-6

North Carolina: 11-6

Georgia: 11-7

Missouri: 10-7

Tennessee: 10-8

Michigan, Washington: 9-7

New York: 9-8

Arizona: 8-8

Maryland: 16-16

California: 32-33

Wisconsin: 7-9

Florida: 23-28

Texas: 13-19

Colorado, Illinois: 5-11

Indiana: 4-12

New Jersey: 8-24

Ohio: 7-25

Note that Ohio, the birthplace of pro football culture and home to the Hall of Fame, finished last. Of California, Florida, Pennsylvania, and Texas, the centers of high school football culture, only one finished the season with a winning record. Pennsylvania has been well-represented in recent Super Bowls, and California has done okay. Florida and Texas consistently have been conspicuous by their absence; Texas has not had a Super Bowl entrant since 1996, and Florida just one since 1984.

“We’ll always have Oakland,” says the state of Ohio. (Photo by Thearon W. Henderson/Getty Images)

Adventures in Officiating. Both holding third-down calls versus the Eagles’ defense, one on third-and-long, were good calls. Officials did not flag an obvious hold at the point of attack by Philadelphia on LeGarrette Blount’s 36-yard run. Though the New England offensive line did well overall, I counted six flagrant holds (an offensive lineman’s arms wrapped around the defender) uncalled versus the Pats, including two on the final, desperation drive. Had New England somehow pulled out the game, today sportsyak would be aghast at how holding suddenly became legal for the defending champions—or why there was just one penalty called against the defending champions, for a mere five yards.

The 600 Club. In a fitting conclusion to a season of football shootouts, the New England Patriots gained 613 yards on offense, and lost the Super Bowl. While there have been many 600 Club members at the collegiate level, and a few college teams have gotten past the velvet rope to enter the super-exclusive 700 Club, Bill Barnwell noted that the Patriots in the Super Bowl were the first NFL team ever to gain 600 yards and lose. Tom Brady joined a personal 500 Club, as he threw for 505 yards, and lost.

Hidden Play of the Super Bowl. Hidden plays are ones that never make highlight reels, but stop or sustain drives. After Philadelphia took a 41-33 lead with about a minute to play, the Eagles kicked off. New England ran a kickoff return reverse, an action that is standard at the high-school level but very rare in the pros.

Given his background in high school, Doug Pederson must have suspected a kickoff trick play, because his return team was positioned to stop one. The result was that Brady got the ball back on the Flying Elvii 9-yard line, needing to go 91 yards in 58 seconds without a time out. Holding the kick return trick play to negative yardage compared to the conventional 25-yard line start was the hidden play of the 2018 Super Bowl.

TMQ Says Happy Trails. The stadium lights are dimmed, the film rooms have gone dark, and the cheerleaders have put their miniskirts away in very small drawers. The season is concluded. Tuesday Morning Quarterback folds its tent and steals off into the desert.

Use the offseason for spiritual and intellectual growth. Take long walks. Appreciate the beauty of nature and the glory of the night sky. Eat more plants and more fresh food, no matter how annoying all that chopping is. Have a hearty breakfast but a modest supper. Set aside five classic books you’ve always meant to read, and five contemporary books of merit. Complete them before you watch another minute of the drivel on cable news.

Make a list of specific tangible goals you can accomplish in the next six months. Count your blessings—your grandmother was right about this—and also count your problems. Compare them.

Do these things and you will feel justified in racing back to the couch, the remote, and the microbrews when the football artificial universe resumes in the fall.

Bear in mind that when the knock on your life’s door sounds, which may be in decades or may be tonight—“If the house-owner had known the hour the thief would come, he would have kept watch,” Jesus said—you will not regret your financials or your professional status. You may regret time not spent with the people who love you.

Thanks for reading,

Gregg