Peyton knew that Jason David knew him. Peyton knew David knew all his tells. Everyone has tells, how they unintentionally tip off a play. The way he looks at a the hot receiver; the receiver knows the look. They practice together every day. The opposing corner never knows the look, not until the end of the season. But Peyton knows this. He's always changing his tells.
In 2002 it was where put his right foot when he was planning to toss a screen to a back waiting in the flat, or to a receiver on a quick out. If his right foot was a foot further back than usual, it was one of those two.
At first, corners were covering it tight and Peyton would have to hit his second read. Most of the time these guys were open. If not, there was always the third, or even James waiting for a dump off. Then, the smart corners saw the film, they saw the foot. Corners hang with corners, and sometimes they talk. Word got around. Film confirmed it. The smart corners began to leave the out route open. Or, they'd appear to, back pedalling frantically as Harrison broke from the line, untouched. But once Peyton was winding up, they'd jump it and try for the spectacular pick and six. Sometimes they were late, even though they knew the tell. Sometimes they knocked it down. Three of them intercepted it, one taking it to the house.
That summer, Peyton found his tell. A retiring corner mentioned it to him at a celebrity golf tournament. The following week, at home Peyton shut himself in the Bat Cave and pulled out the DVD of every presnap of every game for the entire season. Yup, there it was.
Most quarterbacks would have eliminated the tell. Not Peyton. He used it.
Well, he actually did eliminate it; he practiced it both ways. He also watched the tape for other tells, and found three. When audibling, he always yelled the audible to the direction of the play first, and only if it was a run. Not only did this tell everyone the play was going right, they all knew it was a run, not a pass. No wonder they limped to three straight midseason losses and a humiliating 41-0 Wild Card loss to the Jets. The Jets, he was sure, knew all his tells.
So, spring of 2003 Peyton Manning created three new tells and paid his famous dad Archie and a Colts intern named Marty to watch for other tells he might have created without knowing.
One of the three new tells were in his cadence, which you can't tell by film alone, you need to be listening, too. Players don't always listen to the soundtrack when studying film. He hoped that the upcoming season would tell him who the astute film watchers were; what teams were going the extra mile. They'd be his first suckers.
He introduced another tell in his shoulder and yet another in his play-action. He was always the best at selling play-action, and from studying film, he, his Dad and Marty all agreed he was selling it as well as he could. Marty's father was a Div II college coach and Marty had been studying film since he was 13. He knew what he was doing, even if he was only 22.
So there was Peyton, in 2003, deliberately implementing fake tells, desperately hiding real ones, and using every ounce to pounce the competition on his way to a 12-4 record and an eventual loss to eventual champion New England in the AFC Championship Game.
In the preseason, his personal career-worst, he used all the same tells as before. Audibling in the direction of the play, placing the right foot in the wrong spot for screens and quick out passes. It was easy to sell, and he made sure it was part of his pre-snap routine. The arm waving, the yelling and pointing, the theatrics, the tells. Nothing by accident.
In week 1, a low scoring slugfest in Cleveland, he showed just enough to win, but made sure his old tells and new ones were on display. No one would discern the new tells until well into the season, not until after enough film had been compiled to make it obvious. But when they were fighting for the top seed in the playoffs and home field throughout, or at least a division title and second-best record, those tells would be important.
In week 2, at home against Tennessee, he knew he couldn't hide anymore. Twice, on crucial third downs where a quick out would have been perfect, he flashed his right foot tell and confirmed to the well-coached Titan secondary that yes, it was in fact an out. The corner sat back, waited to bait Peyton, then bit on the pump fake while once Marvin Harrison and once Hunter Smith stutter-stepped, head faked and then burst up field and out of bounds for 23 and 21 yard gains, both huge considering the three-step drop and pump fakes.
But after the game was in hand, which was early, Peyton broke out all the tells again, twice he audibled off easy gains in order to show and confirm his tells. Up several touchdowns in the second half, he audibled off an uncovered Hunter Smith in the slot to go to his audible-in-the-direction of the run tell. It was stuffed for no gain and Smith came back to the huddle pleading his wide-openness.
This happened a lot, and some of his teammates have wondered if he was slipping. In this day of free agency of players and coaches, Peyton could tell no one of what he was doing. His Dad would not tell, not even his son, Peyton's little brother; not until Peyton retired. Little brother Eli wasn't a sure thing in the NFL yet, and Peyton wasn't giving him this nugget. Not yet. Peyton had some dirt on Marty's dad and some recruiting violations. Marty wasn't going to tell. No one could know, or else he couldn't use his tells to fool them. Even his long-time coach Tom Moore didn't know Peyton was doing this intentionally.
Week 2 in hand, old tells being confirmed, new tells being introduced, Peyton was on his way to a big year. Each week he's reveal enough to make people wonder if those were really tells anymore. Was he really tipping a play, or was it a coincidence? Then the retired cornerback who originally told him of his right-foot tell went on the Fox pregame show and told everyone what he told Peyton. So, Peyton weened himself of the old tells, even providing several colorful quotes for the writers that week. It was Week 7, the Colts bye, and Peyton knew smart coaches around the league were outsmarting themselves already. They'd surely know of his new tells by now.
The Colts rattled off seven wins versus three losses the rest of the way; the tells were just an ace-up-the-sleeve. All by themselves they weren't going to win games. The Colts still had to execute, play tough, and play defense and special teams which they didn't often do well.
It may be the tells never won Peyton a game the Colts weren't going to win anyway. It may be they lost a couple because he leaned too heavily on them. But for Peyton, the tells brought the joy of outsmarting his opponents. Maybe his lineman were frosty with him, maybe his receivers didn't get it -- 'I was OPEN, man!' But if it weren't for chess matches like this, Peyton would have long since lost interest in football.
But Peyton kept on it. In the coming three seasons, whenever the game was lost, he would not come out. His backup almost never gets to play, even in blowouts. These are Peyton's practice times. Times for putting in stuff to fool coaches, his own in case they left for another team next year, other teams for all those other reasons. His tells weren't the only reasons he won games, but they gave him the needed edge.
Of course, Bill The Genius Belichick wasn't going for the tells. He never bought them, even after assistant after assistant tried to convince him. Twice in a row Peyton tried to use them, twice in a row his season ended in frustrating losses to the Pats. Peyton gave them up in the second half of the Colts win against the Patriots in January 2007. B.T.G.B. and the Pats gave up more points that half than they had in any whole game all year.
The coming out party for Peyton's tells was the 2007 season opener at home against the Saints. Cornerback Jason David had played for the Colts in their Superbowl run in 2006 then left for the Saints via free agency. He practiced against Peyton all year, he knew him, he knew Harrison. He knew Reggie Wayne. Peyton knew, too.
After the game, a reporter asked Manning, "Did you target David?" Peyton replied, "We don't do that." He said they target the open receiver, that's it. But that wasn't the truth. Peyton knew David was used to playing the Tampa 2 and by habit would be watching the backfield. Using tells he created during the 2006 season -- he even flashed them during the Superbowl, just for fun -- Peyton crushed David on three bombs, throwing his way repeatedly. The numbers against David were embarrassing. Thrown at: 9 times. Caught: 7 against. Three touchdowns and 147 yards given up on just those 7 receptions. Toasted, burned on both sides.
The tells, actually the one tell he used, was the way he set his feet on the 5 step drop. Buttons, crossing routes and outs were one set, posts and fades where another. David knew them, he was watching like a safety. The safety, whose ear David bent all week, was watching. Five steps, set feet closer together for the close routes, safety and corner bite. Put those hands in the air. Smile. Walk to sidelines. Take off helmet.
So, watch this year. Watch for his tells. He won't be using the 5-step-drop tell anymore, but go back to the Superbowl and see if you can see the others, and if you can, see if he uses them this year. And if he does, see if the defense bites. And if they do... watch out.
-- Marty
The preceding perhaps occurred solely in the mind of windsurf17.
Friday, September 7, 2007
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