Towards the end of the first quarter of last night's football contest between the Cleveland Browns and the Buffalo Bills, around the time that the Bill's quarterback, Trent Edwards, threw his third interception, when Cleveland's own signal caller, Brady Quinn, had managed to complete just one out of seven passes, Tony Kornheiser-the supposed comic relief in the booth-asked Ron Jaworski-the onetime Eagle's quarterback and current reigning football guru in the booth-a simple question.
"What the hell's wrong with Edwards?" was what he wanted to know.
The answer was interesting, not because of what it told us about Edwards, but rather because of what it told us about football in general.
Jaworski pointed out that Edwards had an amazing rookie season and that now, mid-way through his second year, had hit something of a sophomore slump.
"Opposing defenses know his tendencies," said Jaworski, "they know what he likes to do and they can take it away from him."
Quarterbacks, like everyone else, tend to be very good at certain things and not so good at others.
Kurt Warner, for example, the two-time MVP who is now guiding the Arizona Cardinals through a near miraculous season, is having so much success because Warner is expert at short to mid-range throws, usually fired somewhere between two or three seconds after the ball has been snapped.
Arizona's offense works so well this year because the Cardinal's have designed schemes that allow him to make these throws over and over again. While defenses know what's coming they can't take it away from him for three simple reasons.
The first is that Warner can literally through a football through a pinhole as long as that pinhole is less than fifty feet way. The second is that he is also so good at reading coverages that he knows which of his receivers' appendages will be uncovered and aims for that. The third thing is that he has two of the very best receivers to ever play the game to throw his laser darts to.
The result is that defenses know what's coming and can't stop it.
Warner is an exceptional quarterback and those don't come along every day. But he is only one kind of exceptional quarterback. Another kind is the creative genius-aka Brett Farve. A quarterback so unprincipled that teams might know what plays he likes to run, but those plays are mere blueprints for a mismatch of anything goes once the ball has been snapped. Football is a fairly conservative game and coordinators have a tough time scheming against anything goes style mayhem. So Farve wins much more than he loses.
Which brings us to most of the other quarterbacks in the league. Those who are successful are those who have gotten damn good at doing the things they are innately damn bad at doing. Since the opposing teams know their tendencies and since these signal callers lack Warner's accuracy and Farve's creativity, they are going to make sure that whatever it is that these QBs like to do is exactly what they won't let them do.
This, by the way, is the very strategy that has earned Patriot's coach Bill Bellicheck the title of genius.
Why this is so interesting is quite simple: when you watch most of the leagues' quarterbacks win a game what you are actually watching is a man doing that which comes hardest to him best. It's not rocket science, but week in and week out, it just might be harder than rocket science.