Kovacevic: What's Claypool thinking? Oh wait, he's not

MINNEAPOLIS -- Imagine coaching Chase Claypool.

Imagine being the one responsible for the instruction of someone so spectacularly self-centered that, with his offense storming down the field on a final-minute drive that could've culminated in the greatest comeback in franchise history -- and with Claypool himself heavily involved -- that he'd ... he'd ...

Honestly, my friends, I'm not sure I'll find words insulting enough to describe it, so just press play and feel free to formulate whichever ones fit your personal preference:

I mean ... where to start?

How about at the finish?

Because these Steelers would, despite a 29-point deficit, come within a Pat Freiermuth near-catch in the end zone on the final play of somehow avoiding a 36-28 loss to the Vikings on this Thursday night at US Bank Stadium. And that silly sequence up there cost them, in my estimation, eight precious ticks on the clock and, thus, at least one more crack at that end zone.

Think Ben Roethlisberger wouldn't love another crack right now?

He'd made the sweetest thread-the-needle pass there, and this in a half where he'd performed brilliantly, as if his very legacy was on the line. This should've been the crown jewel of his own greatest comeback.

Think Freiermuth wouldn't love another crack?

Kid looked devastated on the field, even though Minnesota's Harrison Smith made a superlative play to swat the ball from his hands.

Think anyone on this roster whose maturity rates above an adolescent's level wouldn't love another crack?

No, seriously, what's wrong with this dude?

What in hell would compel any professional athlete to behave that way in that setting?

It's not just that he struck the pose to celebrate his first down. It's not just that he rose up from his pose slowly, as if it were the first quarter ... of a preseason game. It's not just that he needed Trai Turner, one of the few adults in the room, to come sprinting his way to take the ball. And it's not even just that, once Kendrick Green finally snapped the ball and Ben drove it into the ground, Claypool had the audacity to get demonstrably angry with his teammates for having been rightly angry with him.

Truth be told, it's way more about this, when I asked Claypool afterward to explain what'd happened:

His answer, verbatim: "Yeah, um, you know, I definitely got to be better. I got tackled near the hash, did my little first-down point."

His little first-down point!

"Went to hand the ball to the ref. He had just gotten there. So, even if I got right up and looked for him, he wasn’t there."

That part's fair. Only in isolation.

"So he ran down the field to come get the ball, and the ball got knocked out of my hands. That’s what cost us time."

Wow.

"But I definitely do have to be better."

Wow.

He looked like he was done, but kept his eyes on me and concluded, "I knew the situation. I knew the situation. I knew I’m near the hash, I knew the ball is placed on the hash. But I've got to be better, and the ball shouldn’t get knocked out of my hands. It should be a f---in ... it should be a penalty."

Wait, now what?

A closer look at that part:

Right. That's Minnesota linebacker Eric Kendricks tapping the ball out. Which apparently received so little attention that, even though Kendricks met with Twin Cities media afterward, no one asked about it.

And Claypool's right that it could've been a penalty. But he's right, once more, only in isolation. Since none of that occurs without the little first-down point.

The initial act remains ... oh, let's leave the last word on it to Larry Fitzgerald, circa 2020:

Talk about an adult in the room.

I'll be blunt: I'd be fine if the Steelers rocketed Claypool into the figurative football sun by the time their charter touched down at Pittsburgh International. Yeah, that's why I'm neither a GM, nor a coach, but sorry, I still find value in creating and enforcing a culture around a team, and this player's the absolute antithesis of that.

I don't know why. I don't care why. He isn't my worry, and I'm not sure he should be anyone else's.

Maybe it'd be different if this were the exception. But it wasn't. Even on this very evening:

That's from the Steelers' opening series, which might've resulted in more than Chris Boswell's missed 49-yard field goal had Claypool not poked his finger into the facemask of the Vikings' Bashaud Breeland to earn a 15-yard penalty for unnecessary roughness.

But don't take my word for it. Asked what the Steelers need to do to get off to better starts offensively, Ben replied, "I don't know. We had a penalty, I believe, that backed us up a little bit. But I don't know."

Sure he does. Which is why he broached it.

It was Claypool's eighth penalty of the season, three more than any other NFL wide receiver.

So Mike Tomlin keeps Claypool on the sideline for the rest of that series. Not quite a benching, but one would presume it'd send some message.

Nope:

Very next possession. Third-and-1 at the Pittsburgh 34. The scheme's a gimme putt for Najee Harris, provided someone seals or bumps or even breathes on Xavier Woods, the blitzing safety. Claypool, who has exactly one job to do there, ensures the punting unit comes out.

Bet that's someone else's fault, too.

A longer, more defined benching would follow in the second half, benefiting James Washington. At least until it became obvious that the only way this comeback could be successful was for Ben to keep heaving up bombs.

It's maddening. Really is. Mostly because he's got talent that exceeds that of a standard second-rounder and, on occasion, lives up to it. He's 6 feet 4, he can run, he can jump, he's got 47 catches for 753 yards and, in fact, this game marked his second-biggest output of the season with eight catches for 93 yards.

Including this beauty on that final drive:

But again, how does that fizzle into what unfolded?

Also again, how does that get managed?

Tomlin was asked to confirm that he benched Claypool.

"I did," he responded with a bite.

Because of the penalty?

"Yes."

Message received?

"We'll see."

Yeah, we will. And I'd say that'll hinge on the head coach at this stage, as Ben himself pointed out when asked if there's anything he could do.

"It's not really my job," Ben replied. "To me, that goes up to Coach Tomlin. That's what he needs to do. That's his job as the head coach. As the quarterback, it's my job to help manage what we do on the field and getting first downs and trying to score. Dealing with player issues and whatever else you want to say, that's the coach's job, not mine."

My general optimism on this front could be measured in the same way they do with the temps up here this time of year, partly because Claypool is who he is until he provides any positive precedent, partly because the team can't afford even fewer offensive weapons, and partly because Tomlin hasn't exactly exceeded his accountability threshold with underperforming individuals. (See also, Devin Bush.)

Maybe this was a start, and maybe it wasn't, but it was noteworthy that Claypool spoke at all.

It's very much the exception in the coronavirus era of sports for a player who hadn't done well to be brought to the interview area, or to the Zoom calls before that. It's almost always the Ahkello Witherspoon types after a loss, meaning someone who did well even in a loss, as he did with two picks. So suffice it to say, Claypool popping through the door wasn't expected.

I have it on excellent authority that the call came from on high.

Imagine that being necessary.