Of Malzahn and Miami, a look backward and forward

A couple of stuff from me from around the web:

Goaltending for football?

fbgoalI received an intriguing email from reader Sean Piccola:

I’m an ASU fan who was subjected to [Georgia's] AJ Green’s block of ASU’s potential game winning field goal last Saturday. Given Green’s insane height and athleticism, it got me thinking . . . if Green is 6’4 with a vertical of 30″ (or Julio Jones who is also 6’4 and has a 38.6″ vertical), why not put him under the goal post on long field goals and have him attempt to block it at the end of the kick, rather than the beginning?

Do you ever recall a time when a defensive team, when facing a long field goal, has ever placed an athlete of that caliber at the back of the end zone, in front of the goal posts, and instructed him to try to block the
kick (not return it a’la Antonio Cromartie) — it seems that numerous FGs around 50 yards just make it over the crossbar, and if nothing else it would get in the kicker’s head.

I looked through the NCAA rule book online and it didn’t seem to contain anything that would prohibit the practice; a field goal is just another “scrimmage kick.” Obviously, this tactic would not have frequent
application, but it could prove huge at critical points in a game.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen this done in a game. And I have seen a number of long distance, late-in-the-half type kicks that just barely scooted over the crossbars. Then again, this might be an incredibly difficult thing to do in a game, and also difficult to even simulate in practice. (Whereas a kick return of a short field goal is more or less just like returning a kickoff or punt.)

But I don’t know, maybe it’d be worth a shot? The guy could either return it if it was short, or block it if he could. Any thoughts?

Update: Mystery solved: doing this would be illegal, except in the rare instance where the defender catches the ball cleanly. Thanks to commenter Chris (not me) for pointing this out. The rules can be found on pages 243-44 here. The applicable rules are as follows. Note the penalties range from a safety against the defending team (or upholding of a touchdown if the kicking team recovers it in the end zone) to simply a first down and yardage for the offense. Probably too risky. Note also these rules don’t seem to apply if the kick falls short of the crossbars without interference — i.e. the Antonio Cromartie stuff. (more…)

My breakdown of Miami’s downfield passing game

Available over at Dr Saturday. Thanks as always to the good Doctor, so check out my analysis of Jacory Harris, Mark Whipple, and some thoughts on what Virginia Tech might do in response.

Shameless self-promotion

Apologies for the slow blogging the last few days. I was traveling quite a bit and have been spreading myself a little thin . . . . I have contributed to a few things elsewhere, so check them out:

Rich Rodriguez on the spread run game

Nothing revolutionary, but good stuff.

Me on Mike Leach and TTech; on the Solid Verbal Podcast

Blogging will be slow today, but in the meantime enjoy two sumptuous offerings:

Banking 101 with Mike Leach

That’s just how the deal is.

H/t Double-T Nation.

The Pat Tillman saga

tillmanFrom Sunday’s NY Times Book Review:

Most everyone, at least in the United States, is familiar with the basic facts: [Pat] Tillman, a free-thinking, hard-hitting safety for the Arizona Cardinals, walked away from a multimillion-dollar contract after 9/11 to enlist in the Army. He joined an elite unit, the Rangers, and was killed on April 22, 2004, in a canyon in eastern Afghanistan. The story did not end there: Tillman’s commanders and possibly officials in the Bush administration suppressed that he had been killed accidentally by his own comrades. They publicly lionized Tillman as a hero who died fighting the enemy and fed the phony account even to Tillman’s grieving family. The sordid truth, or most of it, came out later.

. . . Tillman was very much his own man: he wore his hair to his shoulders, rode his bicycle to training camp each morning and “never went anywhere without a book.”But after the 9/11 attacks, Tillman found his professional life suddenly hollow. “Sports embodied many of the qualities I deem meaningful,” he wrote in May 2002. “However, these last few years, and especially after recent events, I’ve come to appreciate just how shallow and insignificant my role is. . . . It’s no longer important.”

So Tillman said goodbye to the N.F.L., to stardom and to the three-year, $3.6 million contract the Cardinals had offered him to stay. In deciding to enlist, he moved hard against the grain of contemporary wartime America, which demands extraordinary sacrifice from a few while asking almost nothing of everyone else.

. . . Once Tillman lands in Afghanistan, though, Krakauer’s narrative lifts off. The death of Tillman is handled deftly — and sad it is, the end of a series of errors and misjudgments, some of which border on the criminal. During a mission to search villages, one of the Humvees in Tillman’s platoon broke down. An officer back at headquarters ordered the platoon to split up: half to tow the Humvee to the base, the other to search the villages. The platoon leader objected — splitting his platoon in a hostile area rendered his men vulnerable — but he was ordered to proceed.From there, the disaster unfolded. The units went off in different directions, but then, the one towing the Humvee thought it had found an easier route and doubled back, only to come under attack from Taliban insurgents. Tillman and others from the first unit raced to the rescue — and were fired on by their fellow soldiers in the second unit, who mistook them for the enemy. Tillman was shot three times in the head by a machine-gunner; an Afghan government soldier was also killed, and two other Americans were wounded. Tillman’s brother Kevin — the brothers enlisted together — was in the unit that killed Pat, but his weapon, a grenade launcher, had jammed. He never got off a shot.

While most of the facts have been re­ported before, Krakauer performs a valuable service by bringing them all together — particularly those about the cover-up. The details, even five years later, are nauseating to read: After Tillman’s death, Army commanders, aided and abetted by members of the Bush administration, violated many of their own rules, not to mention elementary standards of decency, to turn the killing into a propaganda coup for the American side. Tillman’s clothing and notebooks were burned — a flouting of Army regulations — and he was fast-tracked for a posthumous Silver Star, which, as Krakauer shows, was a fraud. Members of his unit were ordered to stay silent about the manner of his death. Even part of Tillman’s body disappeared. Most important, Army commanders went to great lengths to keep the facts of Tillman’s death a secret and allowed the story that he died at the hands of the Taliban to flourish. The low point came at his memorial service, where he was lionized before television cameras, while officials who knew the truth stayed quiet.

Krakauer doesn’t nail down precisely who gave the initial order to conceal the manner of Tillman’s death, but he demonstrates conclusively that the White House was happy to peddle the story that he’d been killed by enemy fire. It makes sense: at the time of Tillman’s death, the Abu Ghraib scandal in Iraq was dominating the news. In any case, the slipshod way the Army investigated Tillman’s death is part of Krakauer’s story.

Oddly enough, Tillman himself suspected that, if he were killed, the Army might try to turn him into a poster boy. And he wanted nothing to do with it. As Tillman told an Army friend: “I don’t want them to parade me through the streets.”

If only he’d gotten his wish.

My article on Jim Tressel

For those that haven’t already seen it, check it out here, over at Dr Saturday on Yahoo.com. Thanks again to the Doc.

NFL hits the Oregon Trail

From Slate TV: