"House money."
That's what David DeCastro called it in our conversation a couple weeks ago in Cincinnati, and I'll be damned if he didn't deliver the sharpest description of these Steelers' surreal season. It's all been a $100 bill picked up off the sidewalk. A found treasure. A bonus blessing with every week that comes with actual playoff contention.
We can all agree on that much, right?
OK, so why is it, pray tell, that I can summarize within a single sequence this 17-10 loss to the Bills we all saw Sunday night at Heinz Field?
Yeah, you know the one:
Ugh. And if only that were isolated.
That up there is the quintessential Randy Fichtner oh-no-I've-lost-my-Ben-Roethlisberger play call. It's a minus-2 throw to Johnny Holton. It stays miles outside the middle of the field. It involves zero thought and even less courage. It's basically risk-free.
Except for this: It risks burning through all this house money in a reckless hurry.
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They'll make the playoffs.
Credit the rest of the NFL with a big assist this weekend, since everyone else the Steelers needed to lose did exactly that. The only realistic challenger remaining are the Titans, and they close out with the Saints and Texans, neither of which they're likely to win. The Steelers, who hold the tiebreaker on Tennessee, close out with the terrible Jets and the Ravens, and the latter will be resting a ton of regulars, including Lamar Jackson, in what'll be a meaningless game for them.
One win of those two, and the deal is sealed. Again, it'll get done.
So why not make every attempt to squeeze everything possible from this Cinderella setting?
Here's what bugged me the most about this whole scene here: The Steelers continued to demonstrate that they have an elite defense, a couple down drives aside. To be sure, they have the very best individual defensive player in T.J. Watt. And within that, theoretically, they'd be a threat to ruin anyone's Sunday in January. It'd take an upset against almost any opponent, but the root of most upsets is the turnover, and these guys are kind of all right in that regard.
There's already a ton of talk locally about how awesome it'll be in 2020 when Roethlisberger returns and teams up with this defense for a complete powerhouse. And that's fun, I'll agree.
But it's also leaving all this house money on the table. Meaning we're in the midst of a season that definitely doesn't deserve to be thrown away. Moreover, one can never, ever assume a carryover effect from year to year of a facet as multilayered as an NFL defense.
What if there are major injuries? Or if Cam Heyward, who was an absolute beast in this game, is less of a beast by next year? Or if Bud Dupree and/or Javon Hargrave aren't retained?
The time to win with this defense is already at hand. It's right now.
And the best way to approach that, at least from this perspective, is to have an imaginatively conceived, intelligently operated NFL offense. No more training wheels. No more predictable patterns. No more perimeter running. And in the name of all that is holy, no more sideways passes or sideline routes, to Johnny Holton or anyone else.
Everyone will be fussing over Devlin 'Duck' Hodges after this one. I get that, and it's fair. All circumstances aside, he was 23 of 38 for 202 yards with four interceptions, four sacks and a fumble. That's not nearly good enough, as he acknowledged himself.
"When the quarterback plays bad, usually that's not good," Hodges said. "I just have to play better."
He does. No caveats. No asterisks.
In the same breath, though, wouldn't it be wonderful if he -- or, for that matter, Mason Rudolph -- were ever given a chance to operate within the aforementioned imaginatively conceived, intelligently operated NFL offense?
A few more annoying examples ...
No point bringing up imagination or intelligence here. That's arguably the dumbest decision -- by both Fichtner and in turn Mike Tomlin, who's got final say over all play calls -- in a season that'd already seen some doozies. And this followed the two-minute warning, which means these gentlemen had actual time to think about it!
It's the wildcat, of course, which was cute when introduced way back in Week 4 and helped bring that first victory against the Bengals. But it's neither cute nor clever anymore. They've used it repeatedly and put enough of it on film that it won't surprise anyone.
Why use it, then?
Simple: Training wheels. Duck comes off the field. That's the only possible motivation for it. Unless, of course, one could picture Roethlisberger coming off the field on first-and-goal for any reason.
So, Maurkice Pouncey, who's been consistently low in snapping into the shotgun, would make that snap. James Conner, who'd been out of action for a month, would take that snap. And the running back would be handing off to a wide receiver, Diontae Johnson, who by game's end would fumble twice to raise his rookie total to five in just 69 NFL touches, so that he could, you know, plow through the middle of the line.
Oh, and the Bills were visibly lined up for a frothing-at-the-mouth blitz.
Ask it with me, my friends: What could possibly go wrong?
Tomlin's explanation was awful.
"It's just unfortunate," he said. "That's how it goes."
Asked a follow-up about the wildcat, he dismissively came back, "We've been living in that world for weeks. You guys know that."
We sure do. So here's assuming he and Fichtner were aware the Bills knew, too.
I'm just warming up ...
I swear, I hate this one almost as much.
Fichtner's obsession with clinging to the edges has carried to such extremes that he, for some insane reason, repeatedly tasks Hodges with making throws that, candidly, he isn't equipped to make. Sure, I'll repeat here for emphasis that Hodges made a bad read and a bad throw, but it can also be the case that the coordinator contributed.
Watch Hodges lock onto his target, Johnson, right from the snap. From there, watch Nick Vannett, the tight end, come wide open underneath.
Several Steelers spoke of how the Bills blitzed far more often than what they'd seen on film -- "Relentless" was the word Buffalo coach Sean McDermott would use -- and that clearly caused problems. But it didn't need to be anywhere near this bad.
I asked Vannett, who'd shown himself to be reliable in catching five of six targets for 40 yards, how much the middle was available, and he answered, "I'd say it was there, for sure. We were trying to take what they gave us. If they were blitzing, we were out trying to find soft areas behind them. So yeah."
In that case, where were the Xs and Os aimed at making those primary targets, or Hodges' first reads?
Know the best way to beat a blitz?
Right. Throw over it. Either hit the man underneath, like Vannett above, or try a screen.
Simultaneously, know the best way to work with an inexperienced quarterback?
Right. Present him with targets in front of him.
Oh, and know the best way to work with a quarterback who might not have the strongest arm?
Right again. Work some screens, other short tosses and even straight-ahead shots into the mix. But when a coordinator's operating from a playbook he carved out in concert with a quarterback who now stands on the sideline -- and one whose speciality is those sideline routes -- it starts to make sense.
Unlike this ...
Hate's not nearly strong enough for that one.
The Bills once again are advertising their blitz. They might as well have blared it on the big ketchup bottles atop the scoreboard. But the play, stunningly, is aimed at getting Conner the pass behind his offensive line. You know, the guys trying to stave off the blitz. Conner pauses awkwardly behind Alejandro Villanueva, who peels off his initial defender to track toward the blitzing linebacker. Sheer chaos ensues.
Give Buffalo credit. That's a big push to create the collapsed pocket, and it's a push that came consistently.
"The Bills," Ramon Foster would say, "I'll get it to them. They're a pretty good team."
No doubt. But the time-tested way to handle the blitz ... well, I've already been over this. It was just so specifically wretched that I had to share.
Same goes for this ...
Honestly, my hate-meter's on E.
This is fourth-and-7. Game on the line. A touchdown's needed, and it's only 23 yards away, thanks to a 13-yard Vannett catch. Yet again, Fichtner and Tomlin have a two-minute warning with which to script a simple first down. And yet again, they botch it badly.
I asked Hodges if Deon Cain was his primary target, and he didn't really answer -- "I just go through the reads and try to find the open guy" -- though his eyes betray him here, too. He locks onto Cain stride for stride, enough that Buffalo's strong safety, Jordan Poyer, completely abandons James Washington in the end zone to come across for the pick.
Many will focus on Washington being open. Not me. I saw Vannett -- and you can, too, up there -- break off the line and present himself in healthy first-down distance.
Why not go for the sticks with so much time left?
Why not look to the tight end after tugging the safeties deep downfield?
Better question than both: Why has Fichtner never figured out how to involve a tight end -- any tight end -- into his schematics?
And this is where this gets into scarier territory. Because this coordinator had no such experience when he was promoted from quarterbacks coach at Roethlisberger's behest, and he hadn't diagramed plays in decades. And it shows, not only with the above but also with the inability to adjust mid-game to what defenses are presenting week after week.
Mean as this'll sound to some, it can't be ruled out that he's in over his head. Or, being generous, that he'll only be useful if No. 7's behind center.
Consider this, as well: Conner ran with an edge and vitality unseen from him since 2018, I'd argue. But he was barely utilized on the ground, with all of eight carries for his 42 yards, and four -- entirely sideways -- catches for 9 yards. And the same coaching staff that chose to suit up five running backs would end up giving them 15 combined carries!
Were Conner's reps limited by the shoulder?
"No," came the terse reply from Tomlin, and it'd have been so easy for him to deflect that one away to protect Fichtner.
I dare say someone else needs to answer for that with greater detail and/or accountability.
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No one should bury Duck any more than they should bury Rudolph. Next weekend in East Rutherford or for the longer-term future.
Asked if Hodges will start next week, Tomlin shook his head and replied, "I'm not getting into that, guys. We just lost a football game. I’m not going to make an announcement every week or every time I stand in front of you guys in terms of who's playing quarterback. Or any other position, for that matter."
That was expected.
Asked if he expects to start next week, Hodges replied, "I don’t know. I hope I’m the guy, but whatever happens, happens. I’m going to be supportive. This is about the team, not me."
That, too, was expected.
It might mean nothing, then, that Tomlin tracked down Hodges on the field moments after the game finished, had a brief word with him, and Hodges immediately turned and headed for the tunnel, as observed by our Matt Sunday:
Or it could mean Rudolph will wind up with another chance.
It says here, in the most blunt way possible, it won't matter which one it is. Not if this coordinator -- like so many others, it seems -- are essentially killing the clock until Roethlisberger returns. And that's more of a waste of good fortune than maybe most realize.
MATT SUNDAY GALLERY