The Games That Changed the Game Page 4
“The beauty of it was that all of those methods were interchangeable, in that you could run the same base plays—which Sid referred to as his Dirty Dozen—but none of them ever looked the same. Three different players of ours could come at a blitzing linebacker, and he never knew which one it would be. Let’s say we were going to run off tackle with Mix leading. We could double-team block it and kick out with the fullback. That’s one way. Another would be for Ron to block down along with the tight end, then pull for the kick-out with a guard. Or we could block down with the tight end and pull Mix for the kick out. It’s all the same play, going to the same area, but with three totally different looks. It was as confusing as hell for the defense.”
Confusion certainly must have been the prevailing condition in the Patriots’ defensive huddle to this point. The Chargers had scored three touchdowns on their first ten plays, only three of which had been passes, to rack up 204 yards. Boston had geared its blitz package to shut down the pass, and the Chargers had gone with the run. “What had worked for us against them in the regular season sure wasn’t working in the championship,” admitted Marion Campbell. “When you blitz, the other team can beat you for a touchdown on a single play, where against a more sound defense, you can keep their gains manageable.” But did the Pats scale back on their blitzes? Hell no. This was who they were. It had gotten them to this point; they weren’t going to change their approach in the middle of a championship game. That strategy played perfectly into Gillman’s hands.
Boston’s head coach, Mike Holovak, was a defensive-oriented guy. The funny thing was that Mike had the nicest, most gentlemanly personality of any coach of that era, but he liked his defense to play very aggressively. “Sid wanted them to blitz,” said Tom Bass. “Where most opponents were scared to death of the Patriots, Sid welcomed their blitzing. Look, Boston’s defensive backs were pretty good, but if your line can block the blitz, there aren’t many people who can hold up in the secondary.”
Following Lowe’s touchdown run, Boston’s offense sputtered and was off the field in three plays. The Chargers’ next series didn’t produce a touchdown—or even a first down. But the Balboa Stadium crowd didn’t seem to mind, cheering wildly as the eventful first quarter ended.
Chargers Series No. 5
2nd Quarter: San Diego 21, Boston 7
The Patriots’ offensive problems continued on their first series of the quarter; they notched only one first down before being forced to punt again. With a little over ten minutes to go before the half, the Chargers got the ball at their own 26. For the first time against Boston (outside of goal-line offense) San Diego went to a one-back, three-receiver set. The personnel was exactly the same, only this time Lincoln—not Don Norton—was aligned in the slot. Next to Keith was Lance Alworth, who’d been thrown to twice but had yet to catch a pass. As the single back, Lowe motioned toward the slot side. Following the snap, Rote took a five-step drop and hit Alworth on a curl route for 8 yards. The play worked because Lowe flared to the outside, drawing coverage while Lincoln sealed the inside coverage to keep the passing lane open for the completion. I know what you’re probably thinking: What’s the big deal? Today’s NFL offenses run this pattern all the time—and you’re right. It’s called a flat/curl route combination with a seam seal. But no matter what they called it back then, I can assure you that not many pro teams included this in their playbook. Sid Gillman did.
On the next play, the Chargers returned to their split-back formation. Rote brought his team to the line and then went to a quick count before Boston could settle in. The call was an inside handoff to Lincoln. Don Rogers cleared away Buoniconti, and DeLuca bowled over Houston Antwine. Lincoln was staring at a hole you could drive a dump truck through. He didn’t hesitate, bursting into the secondary, where he wasn’t stopped until he’d ripped off a 44-yard gain. “We made Lincoln look like Superman,” admitted Larry Eisenhauer. “But it wasn’t just him. He had a great line blocking for him. Inside, out-side—they were running us to death. They weren’t passing that much, and we were baffled. What’s going on here? This wasn’t what we had prepared for. I still have visions of all those thunderbolts flying by me: over, around, all over the joint. It was embarrassing.”
Lincoln wasn’t quite done on the drive. On the next play, he again lined up in the slot in a three-wide set. Lowe went in motion toward the wide side of the field, and Tom Addison followed him. In Addison’s vacated area, Rote gunned a slant pass to Keith that put the ball just outside Boston’s 10-yard line. This time, though, Boston’s red-zone defense held, and the Chargers were forced to settle for a George Blair field goal. Boston matched that score with a Cappelletti field goal on its next possession, so with less than three minutes to play before halftime, the Chargers were given one final opportunity to pad their lead.
Chargers Series No. 6
2nd Quarter: San Diego 24, Boston 10
After picking up a quick first down that got San Diego to its own 45, Lowe ran a sweep that gained just a yard, giving the Chargers a second and 9. Gillman then went back to the same play that had opened the game. Off a quick count, Rote faked the toss to Lincoln, faked the inside trap to Lowe, then fired a swing pass to Lincoln in the flat. I suppose Boston considered this a “moral victory” when Keith got “only” 24 yards on the play, but I spotted several noteworthy features in the call: First and foremost, that the Patriots continued to overreact to San Diego’s fakes, taking themselves out of the play while the Chargers burned them on the back side. I was also impressed with the athletic ability of San Diego’s offensive line. This time both Rogers and Shea pulled to the outside and gave Lincoln a convoy to follow.
The Chargers were moving the ball well enough on their own, but they got additional help when a pass interference penalty put them on the Patriots’ 14-yard line. From there, San Diego scored its first passing touchdown of the afternoon. Don Norton lined up as a tight-end, creating a two-tight-end balanced set in front of a split backfield. Meanwhile, Alworth was flanked wide to the outside. Lowe ran in motion away from Norton, and after the snap, Lincoln and Lowe both released to the wide side, drawing four different Boston defenders to that area. Rote briefly looked in that direction, then narrowly avoided a charging Jack Rudolph as he threw back-side to Norton on a tight-end screen. With all the Patriots busy reacting to Lincoln and Lowe, there were no second-level defenders in Norton’s way, and he waltzed into the end zone for the score. It was another example of what Sid hoped for from Boston’s defenders: reaction and overreaction.
The half ended with San Diego ahead, 31–10. The margin was unexpected, given how competitive the two Patriots-Chargers regular-season games had been. What was even more surprising was how that big lead had been built. Tobin Rote had thrown only 11 passes the entire half. And yet the Chargers already had four touchdowns and 328 total yards! I could only hearken back to what Sid told me time and again in our quarterback meetings with the Eagles: “You’ve got to be able to pass to be able to run. When a coach says he’s got to establish the run first, he’s full of shit!” Sid was an impatient man. He wanted big plays, he wanted them often, and he felt they all derived from putting the ball up—or at least convincing the opponent that was his intention. He simply had no patience for the “slow and steady” approach. I remember one time in Philadelphia, he sat fidgeting like a kindergartner while our offensive line coaches talked through the base running plays for that week’s game plan. After those coaches finally left the room, Sid rolled his eyes at us quarterbacks and wailed, “I don’t know why we waste all that goddamn time trying to gain three yards!”
In today’s NFL, the passing game dominates, but you have to realize how radical Sid’s thinking was back in the early sixties. NFL teams like the Bears and the Browns were heavily ground oriented, and the Green Bay Packers’ success under Vince Lombardi inspired numerous teams to rely on a run-first approach. Sid’s trademark was the air game, but when a team like Boston “sold out” with blitzing schemes designed to stop
the pass, Sid switched tracks. While the Pats focused on pressuring the passing attack, the Chargers outfoxed them with traps and tosses on running plays.
Clearly Sid had been concerned about Boston’s defensive speed and constant blitzing. He didn’t want short corners for their linebackers to tee off on his aging quarterback (Rote was in his fourteenth pro season in 1963), which would have been the case if San Diego had spread its formations. So he kept his formations tight, which also provided enough protection for Rote. Sid further rattled Boston by having Rote call quick counts out of the huddle to eliminate any of the Pats’ pre-snap movements that might have raised doubt or hesitation in the minds of Chargers’ blockers. Gillman wisely believed that it was better to be proactive and take away any Patriots disguises or deception. It also amped up the tempo of his offense, which kept the Pats back on their heels. It was pro football jujitsu: turning your opponent’s strengths against him. By using motion and deception, he never allowed Boston to get defined looks. The Pats’ aggression and speed sent them off in one direction while the play went somewhere else.
The Patriots had the ball twice early in the third quarter, but both drives ended with three-and-outs for Boston. An obvious beneficiary of the Chargers’ defensive efficiency was Keith Lincoln. “People made a fuss over my performance that day,” he said, “but a lot of that success came from the fact that we got the ball back quickly and often. Boston’s defense didn’t have time to rest, and our offensive unit was in a rhythm. We pretty much had a hard time doing anything wrong that day.” All told, a half dozen Patriots possessions ended with three or fewer plays being run before the ball went back to San Diego’s offense.
Chargers Series No. 2
3rd Quarter: San Diego 31, Boston 10
Boston’s first-half tactics had produced disastrous results. The Patriots had blitzed on fourteen of San Diego’s twenty-six plays from scrimmage, and on those fourteen plays the Chargers had gained more than 200 yards, with an average of 14.6 yards per play. But what other choice did the Patriots have? They were trailing by three touchdowns and needed turnovers quickly. The only way to do that, thought Mike Holovak and Marion Campbell, was to keep the blitzes coming and hope for a fumble or a pick.
On the second play of the drive, Rudolph and Eisenhauer broke through to sack Rote for a 5-yard loss, putting San Diego in a thirdand-7 situation. Sid was never afraid to return to successful plays again and again—and he did right here with the swing pass to Lincoln that had opened the game. Once more Rote effectively faked the toss and trap, then fired to Keith—this time on the short side of the field. The reduced operating space was not a problem, because Ernie Wright had moved quickly to get out in front and lead the way. Don Norton also helped out, running a route with a “rub” element to it: obstructing Buoniconti so that he had to fight through traffic to get to Lincoln. Nick arrived way too late, and Lincoln’s 32-yard play put the ball in Boston territory.
Still the Patriots kept blitzing—and for one of the rare times that day, they stifled a Chargers running play. On first down, Lincoln was snowed under by Houston Antwine for a 3-yard loss. But Sid wasn’t worried, because his next call was the perfect counterpunch to Boston’s relentless red dogs. San Diego called a Go route for Alworth, by far the most athletically gifted player on the field that day for either team. Boston sent six men on the play, but Gillman kept both his backs and tight ends in to block. Eight-man protection almost always wins out when the other team sends only six. And Alworth had only single coverage to beat. The defender was Bob Suci, who’d led the Patriots that season with seven interceptions. Yes, Suci was the guy that Ron Mix had buried twice on Paul Lowe’s touchdown run, but on this play, Suci had Lance well covered. Rote’s throw was right on target, but, hell, nobody’s perfect. Alworth could not come up with the catch, and the Chargers faced a third-and-13.
I’ve said that Sid liked going back to the same plays over and over if they were working. Well, this time he repeated the exact play he had just run! He had that much confidence in Alworth and his blockers. I don’t think the Patriots expected to see the same play on back-to-back calls. As was the case on the previous down, the Chargers kept both Lincoln and Lowe and the tight end to block Boston’s blitz. Good thing they did, because Buoniconti blew by Wright and was headed for Rote. Fortunately, Tobin was saved by none other than Lincoln, who added to his already outstanding performance by crumpling Buoniconti with a devastating shot. Rote fired downfield, again to Alworth, but the Pats’ pressure had forced Tobin to airmail the pass just over Lance’s head, with Suci right on him. But the gifted future Hall of Fame flanker leaped into the sky to pull down the ball just above Suci’s helmet, then breezed past him for a 48-yard touchdown.
There were so many great individual efforts on this play that it’s easy to lose sight of an essential Gillman principle at the core of its success. A major factor that influenced what formations and personnel Sid used was where the ball was spotted in relation to the hash marks. Back then the hashes were split out much wider on the playing surface than they are under today’s rules, so there was a clearly defined short side closer to the sideline (the “boundary”) and wide side (“the field”). Sid’s formation and personnel choices were heavily influenced by where the ball was spotted on each play.
Because San Diego called this play toward the boundary, Suci was on an “island"—the lone defensive back in a specific area. Even though most of San Diego’s skill players stayed in to block, there was no way another defender could make up the necessary distance to come across and give over-the-top help to Suci. Positioned across the field on the wide side, Boston’s other DBs simply had too far to run to get to Alworth. This was what Sid meant when he said his goal was to force defenses to cover every inch of the football field.
The Chargers had one more series in the third quarter but got only past midfield before punting, content to carry a 38–10 lead into the final quarter. This brief lull is a good opportunity to mention something that really jumped out at me when I watched the game tape. Keep in mind that this championship was played nearly fifty years ago, and even though many of Sid’s offensive concepts remain as fresh and vital today as they were back then, in one area the modern game is radically different. As explosive as the Chargers were that afternoon, they still relied on fairly basic personnel—with two backs, one tight end, and two wide receivers—on almost every play. The formations stayed pretty much the same too. By contrast, twenty-first-century NFL offenses are all about personnel packages and formation variation. When you watch a game today, it’s not unusual to see fifteen different formations (with all kinds of shifts and motions), and as many as a half dozen personnel packages in the first fifteen plays of the game!
There are a number of reasons why you didn’t have that kind of variety in 1963, the most basic one being the sheer lack of manpower. “You never saw three-receiver sets then because we didn’t have enough guys,” Tom Bass recalled. “There were only thirty-five players on each roster. You weren’t going to put your substitute wideout on the field and run the risk of them all getting hurt at the same time. So what Sid did was put Keith Lincoln in motion and have him go out to a receiver’s spot. That was considered wildly innovative at that time.”
The next season, Bass got the privilege of being Lincoln’s position coach, and learned firsthand how talented he was. “I can’t overemphasize what a valuable asset a player like Lincoln was to Sid’s scheme. Besides being an outstanding blocker and runner, he was also a great route runner and receiver. When linebackers covered him, it was an absolute mismatch. Keith had the quickest start of anybody at his position. He could be up to full speed in three steps! A lot of his catches came off play-action. The quarterback would fake to Lowe, Lincoln would pretend to block, then release. Most people from those days who are still around will say that Keith Lincoln was the best route runner among AFL backs of that era.”
Chargers Series No. 4
4th Quarter: San Diego 38, Boston 10
Sid didn’t show any mercy to the Patriots, even though the outcome of the ‘63 title game was no longer in doubt. After a running play picked up 3 yards, the Chargers came to the line of scrimmage and, for the first time the entire day, were in the conventional offensive set of that era: two split backs, a tight end next to the right tackle, and the two receivers split. There was no slot receiver, and nobody went in motion. But even from this standard formation, the Chargers torched Boston. Sid had Don Norton line up a good 5 yards outside of where the yard numbers were imprinted, the better to “spread the field” horizontally and create wider gaps in the Patriots’ secondary. Like Rote before him, Hadl ran a quick count to negate Patriot defensive pre-snap movement, then took a five-step drop, waited patiently for Norton to clear on an inside slant, and gunned it to him for a 30-yard gain. Once more, Boston’s defender was simply too far from Norton to close quickly, and the Chargers burned him.