Andy Reid Is an Unstoppable Magician
When the Chiefs reached Baltimore’s 5-yard line, the first-round running back exited the field and was replaced by the team’s 5' 9" burner of a wide receiver in the backfield. Patrick Mahomes took the snap and rolled right toward Tyreek Hill and the Ravens followed, collectively drifting toward the play’s apparent focal point like metal shavings near a magnet.
Then Mahomes stopped and underhanded a football to fullback Anthony Sherman, who, after a brief chip block, was essentially standing stationary in the right upback position where he’d started the play. All of Baltimore had overcommitted, and Sherman, the least likely of the play’s five eligible wide receivers, walked into the end zone.
Monday’s win over the Ravens did well to showcase the constantly expanding brilliance of Patrick Mahomes; double-pump fakes, sidearm fastballs and, according to the NFL’s Next Gen Stats, a touchdown pass that traveled more than half a football field in the air before dropping in the perfect locale (the second-most air yards on a completion in 2020).
But more subtly, it again reminded us that Andy Reid is an unstoppable hypnotist; a play-caller who may just be entering his prime at age 62 with a lifetime of football obsession to draw from. What is the rest of the NFL going to when, on any given down, the play is like the aforementioned score—something you’ve never seen before? How do you study film on the Kansas City Chiefs when the director is a madman?
In the most anticipated matchup of the 2020 regular season to date, Reid trotted out the first recorded instance of a four-receiver stack in NGS's five-year history, where a quartet of wide receivers lined up on top of one another sitting at one side of the formation. He rolled out a wildcat read-option tossback. He deployed dizzying backfield motion. He unpacked the defense for Mahomes before the start of every snap.
The announcers described it as “at will” scoring by the Chiefs, but that would imply a lack of resistance from a Ravens defense that came into this week with the third-highest DVOA (defense adjusted value over average) in football. Before facing the Chiefs, the Ravens were first in points allowed, first in turnovers caused, first in rushing touchdowns allowed, first in turnover percentage and first in points per drive allowed. So the truth is that Baltimore was simply undressed before every snap, with Reid utilizing this strange rolodex of play-calls to manipulate the various pieces as he saw fit.
The Chiefs might be the first team in modern offensive NFL history to consistently transcend the idea of a “scheme.” The Patriots may have been the first defensively. Look across the NFL and it’s not impossibly difficult to digest a coach’s style and glean a general idea of what they’re going for given the available personnel, field location, down and distance. With Reid marionetting the most physically gifted quarterback in recent memory, the possibilities are endless and create an impossible reality for defensive coordinators trying to condense their week of preparation. And, if all else fails, so many of the defense’s resources are devoted to covering each and every possible occurrence that there is no one to prevent Mahomes from just rolling off the edge and scrambling for 10 yards with the breezy gait of a park jogger.
It says a lot about Reid that, late in the third quarter, he went back to Sherman on a critical fourth-and-1 but simply ran a dive handoff that was stuffed (and allowed the Ravens to climb back into a game that was out of contention). It was a rare glimpse at the conventional. Reid is targeted for his diversions here at the same frequency that milquetoast coaches are praised for their once-in-a-Halley’s-Comet ventures into something truly creative and worthwhile.
That is the burden of being Reid. The benefit is coming back a few drives later with a touchdown pass to the left tackle to put the team up by 14 points, further vexing the next helpless victim who has to come up with a way to shut Reid down.