Martz forgets himself and lets game get away
Bernie Miklasz
Published: Saturday, Jan. 10 2004
Twenty minutes after the insane, maddening, double-overtime game that abruptly
ended the Rams season, coach Mike Martz was seated on the back of a motorized
cart, being driven from the interview area to his team's locker room.
Martz appeared dazed, as you would expect from a man who had just been struck
by lightning. The sudden bolt appeared in the form of Carolina wide receiver
Steve Smith, who streaked through a flat-footed Rams defense for a 69-yard
catch-and-sprint for the winning touchdown on the first play of the second
overtime.
And by a 29-23 score the Rams had just lost their first game at The Ed since
Sept. 29, 2002. The ride was over, in more ways than one. Martz asked to get
off the cart. He began to make the long, lonely walk down the corridor.
Defensive end Tyoka Jackson grabbed Martz and pulled him close.
"We're sorry," Jackson told the coach. "You know we love you, right? You know
it."
Martz and Jackson parted. Martz kept walking, kept talking, trying to explain
why he declined to go for the Panthers' jugular in the final two minutes of the
fourth quarter, when the Rams had a chance to score a touchdown that would have
kept their hopes and dreams alive.
The Rams were on the verge of a miracle, coming back from a 23-12 deficit in
the final six minutes of regulation. A touchdown was followed by a successful
onside kick. Down by 3, the Rams took over at their 42-yard line with 2 minutes
38 seconds remaining. Marc Bulger completed passes for 20 yards, 13 yards, and
6 yards. Marshall Faulk ran for four yards. Just like that, the Rams were on
Carolina's 19 yard line with 37 seconds left. They had one timeout in their
pocket.
The Rams were in excellent position. There was ample time to run two
or three plays - at least. Surely, Martz would go for the kill. He's Mad Mike.
He's the most aggressive play- calling coach in the NFL. When in doubt, he
always airs it out. It has never been in Martz's personality to play it safe,
go conservative, take the cautious route. He coaches on the edge. Walks on the
wild side. The rebel. The maverick. Fearless to a fault. He's the opposite of
all of those boring NFL head coaches who play it scared, lacking the courage to
expose their necks in defiance of conventional wisdom.
So what was this?
The clock was ticking down, and the Rams were standing around. You kept waiting
for the Rams to hurry up and get to the line to spike the ball and stop the
clock or run another play. You kept waiting for Mad Mike to come up with a
daring call to put the dagger into the Panthers. You kept waiting for Martz to
go for the win and give his team a push of momentum into the NFC Championship
Game.
Instead, the clock was running out . . .
All the way down to 3 seconds, all the way down from comfort and confidence to
surprise and confusion, then to incredulity and anger. You could hear the
grumbling, the murmuring, the barking from the stands. What was Martz doing?
How did the Rams manage to run only three offensive plays in the final 2
minutes? He ran from peril by letting the clock run all the way down to 3
seconds, and then the Rams used their final timeout to set up Jeff Wilkins for
a 33-yard field goal to tie the score. Mad Mike morphed into all of those
coaches who have played not to lose.
The Rams did go into overtime, and they did have numerous chances to win, but
didn't make a big play. And then there was Steve Smith zooming down the
straightaway and racing off to the NFC championship game, leaving the Rams and
St. Louis behind to engage in a bitter debate over what should have been.
I told Martz that the fans and media would jump him for his safety-first
decision at the end of the fourth quarter. That he would be criticized for not
going for the win when he had the Panthers by the throat.
Martz stood his ground.
"After what these players had done, fighting back like that after it looked so
bleak for us, I wanted to give them the right to get to overtime and play for
the win," he said. "I didn't want to do anything at that point to jeopardize
that.
"I knew the field goal was going to be good. Could we have popped it in there
for a touchdown? Yeah, maybe so. But suppose we have an interception or lose a
fumble? What if there's a sack and we don't get the chance to kick a (shorter)
field goal and go to overtime? I just wanted to kick the field goal, take the
sure thing and go to overtime. If we turn the ball over there, what would the
reaction be? It would be, 'He should have kicked the field goal.' I believe I
made the right decision."
It's understandable that Martz sought to avoid a disaster. Bulger had thrown
two second-half interceptions and his pass protection was breaking down. And in
a way, Martz's caution was vindicated when Bulger, slow to get rid of the ball,
threw a bad interception in Carolina territory on the Rams' final possession in
OT.
Martz would never say this, of course, but it seems reasonable to conclude that
he didn't trust Bulger at the end of regulation. Which, if true, raises a huge
question about where the Rams go from here at the QB position. And that's
another topic for the next column.
Martz also said he flashed back to the previous game the Rams had lost at home
- 13-10 to Dallas on Sept. 29, 2002. The score was tied late. The Rams moved
into the red zone with a chance to win. Martz called a downfield pass play on
third down; quarterback Jamie Martin was sacked and Wilkins came in to try a
49-yard field goal instead of a much easier attempt. Wilkins missed, and the
Cowboys proceeded to kick the winning field goal as time expired.
"I learned from that Cowboy game a year ago, taking that shot - and how
devastated these players were when it backfired," Martz said. "We took a shot
and got sacked and it took us out of decent field goal range. And our guys
didn't have the chance to keep playing. I wasn't going to take a chance on that
happening again. I had all the confidence in the world in these players that we
would win in overtime."
Martz's concerns were logical. I honestly believe that. That said, Martz could
have called some low-risk, or even no-risk pass plays. He could dump the ball
into Faulk's hands, and let No. 28 make some moves. Maybe go with a quick
screen, with a wall of blockers set up, giving Faulk or one of the wideouts a
chance to weave through traffic for a score. This is an offense that had
tremendous playmakers in Faulk, Torry Holt, Isaac Bruce. But Martz's decision
to do nothing and sit on the ball was an overreaction to his worries.
This wasn't why the Rams lost. They sputtered in the red zone all day. Bulger
threw three interceptions. Holt dropped a long pass that would have went for a
touchdown. The offensive line couldn't open up running room for Faulk. The
Rams' soft zone defense - and soft-hearted play - was exploited by Carolina 485
total yards, 5.3 yards per rushing attempt, a percent third-down conversion
rate and a 96.6 QB rating by Jake Delhomme. The winning TD pass to Smith, after
all, came on a third and 14 play. The Rams defense didn't show up.
Few will be talking about that today. We will be talking about the day that Mad
Mike went conservative. And as he walked into his private locker room, head
down, he was Sad Mike now. The loneliest man in St. Louis.
Bernie Miklasz
Published: Saturday, Jan. 10 2004
Twenty minutes after the insane, maddening, double-overtime game that abruptly
ended the Rams season, coach Mike Martz was seated on the back of a motorized
cart, being driven from the interview area to his team's locker room.
Martz appeared dazed, as you would expect from a man who had just been struck
by lightning. The sudden bolt appeared in the form of Carolina wide receiver
Steve Smith, who streaked through a flat-footed Rams defense for a 69-yard
catch-and-sprint for the winning touchdown on the first play of the second
overtime.
And by a 29-23 score the Rams had just lost their first game at The Ed since
Sept. 29, 2002. The ride was over, in more ways than one. Martz asked to get
off the cart. He began to make the long, lonely walk down the corridor.
Defensive end Tyoka Jackson grabbed Martz and pulled him close.
"We're sorry," Jackson told the coach. "You know we love you, right? You know
it."
Martz and Jackson parted. Martz kept walking, kept talking, trying to explain
why he declined to go for the Panthers' jugular in the final two minutes of the
fourth quarter, when the Rams had a chance to score a touchdown that would have
kept their hopes and dreams alive.
The Rams were on the verge of a miracle, coming back from a 23-12 deficit in
the final six minutes of regulation. A touchdown was followed by a successful
onside kick. Down by 3, the Rams took over at their 42-yard line with 2 minutes
38 seconds remaining. Marc Bulger completed passes for 20 yards, 13 yards, and
6 yards. Marshall Faulk ran for four yards. Just like that, the Rams were on
Carolina's 19 yard line with 37 seconds left. They had one timeout in their
pocket.
The Rams were in excellent position. There was ample time to run two
or three plays - at least. Surely, Martz would go for the kill. He's Mad Mike.
He's the most aggressive play- calling coach in the NFL. When in doubt, he
always airs it out. It has never been in Martz's personality to play it safe,
go conservative, take the cautious route. He coaches on the edge. Walks on the
wild side. The rebel. The maverick. Fearless to a fault. He's the opposite of
all of those boring NFL head coaches who play it scared, lacking the courage to
expose their necks in defiance of conventional wisdom.
So what was this?
The clock was ticking down, and the Rams were standing around. You kept waiting
for the Rams to hurry up and get to the line to spike the ball and stop the
clock or run another play. You kept waiting for Mad Mike to come up with a
daring call to put the dagger into the Panthers. You kept waiting for Martz to
go for the win and give his team a push of momentum into the NFC Championship
Game.
Instead, the clock was running out . . .
All the way down to 3 seconds, all the way down from comfort and confidence to
surprise and confusion, then to incredulity and anger. You could hear the
grumbling, the murmuring, the barking from the stands. What was Martz doing?
How did the Rams manage to run only three offensive plays in the final 2
minutes? He ran from peril by letting the clock run all the way down to 3
seconds, and then the Rams used their final timeout to set up Jeff Wilkins for
a 33-yard field goal to tie the score. Mad Mike morphed into all of those
coaches who have played not to lose.
The Rams did go into overtime, and they did have numerous chances to win, but
didn't make a big play. And then there was Steve Smith zooming down the
straightaway and racing off to the NFC championship game, leaving the Rams and
St. Louis behind to engage in a bitter debate over what should have been.
I told Martz that the fans and media would jump him for his safety-first
decision at the end of the fourth quarter. That he would be criticized for not
going for the win when he had the Panthers by the throat.
Martz stood his ground.
"After what these players had done, fighting back like that after it looked so
bleak for us, I wanted to give them the right to get to overtime and play for
the win," he said. "I didn't want to do anything at that point to jeopardize
that.
"I knew the field goal was going to be good. Could we have popped it in there
for a touchdown? Yeah, maybe so. But suppose we have an interception or lose a
fumble? What if there's a sack and we don't get the chance to kick a (shorter)
field goal and go to overtime? I just wanted to kick the field goal, take the
sure thing and go to overtime. If we turn the ball over there, what would the
reaction be? It would be, 'He should have kicked the field goal.' I believe I
made the right decision."
It's understandable that Martz sought to avoid a disaster. Bulger had thrown
two second-half interceptions and his pass protection was breaking down. And in
a way, Martz's caution was vindicated when Bulger, slow to get rid of the ball,
threw a bad interception in Carolina territory on the Rams' final possession in
OT.
Martz would never say this, of course, but it seems reasonable to conclude that
he didn't trust Bulger at the end of regulation. Which, if true, raises a huge
question about where the Rams go from here at the QB position. And that's
another topic for the next column.
Martz also said he flashed back to the previous game the Rams had lost at home
- 13-10 to Dallas on Sept. 29, 2002. The score was tied late. The Rams moved
into the red zone with a chance to win. Martz called a downfield pass play on
third down; quarterback Jamie Martin was sacked and Wilkins came in to try a
49-yard field goal instead of a much easier attempt. Wilkins missed, and the
Cowboys proceeded to kick the winning field goal as time expired.
"I learned from that Cowboy game a year ago, taking that shot - and how
devastated these players were when it backfired," Martz said. "We took a shot
and got sacked and it took us out of decent field goal range. And our guys
didn't have the chance to keep playing. I wasn't going to take a chance on that
happening again. I had all the confidence in the world in these players that we
would win in overtime."
Martz's concerns were logical. I honestly believe that. That said, Martz could
have called some low-risk, or even no-risk pass plays. He could dump the ball
into Faulk's hands, and let No. 28 make some moves. Maybe go with a quick
screen, with a wall of blockers set up, giving Faulk or one of the wideouts a
chance to weave through traffic for a score. This is an offense that had
tremendous playmakers in Faulk, Torry Holt, Isaac Bruce. But Martz's decision
to do nothing and sit on the ball was an overreaction to his worries.
This wasn't why the Rams lost. They sputtered in the red zone all day. Bulger
threw three interceptions. Holt dropped a long pass that would have went for a
touchdown. The offensive line couldn't open up running room for Faulk. The
Rams' soft zone defense - and soft-hearted play - was exploited by Carolina 485
total yards, 5.3 yards per rushing attempt, a percent third-down conversion
rate and a 96.6 QB rating by Jake Delhomme. The winning TD pass to Smith, after
all, came on a third and 14 play. The Rams defense didn't show up.
Few will be talking about that today. We will be talking about the day that Mad
Mike went conservative. And as he walked into his private locker room, head
down, he was Sad Mike now. The loneliest man in St. Louis.
