The Packers lost for several reasons (but the officials didn’t help)
And three Super Bowl storylines we're already sick of.
The Packers have played in four NFC title games since 2014. They’ve won none of them.
Aaron Rodgers saw an MVP-caliber season fall short of the Super Bowl for the second time in his career, ceding his spot so Tom Brady could make his 10th appearance in the biggest game of the year. Tampa Bay shot out to a 28-10 third quarter lead, then held on for a 31-26 win in which potential drama gave way to baffling decisions and an underwhelming finish.
Rodgers outplayed Brady, but it wasn’t enough. His 336-yard, three-touchdown day fell roughly in line with his career postseason average, but the play he’ll remember most may not be a 50-yard touchdown strike to Marquez Valdes-Scantling. Rather, it could be the third-and-goal incompletion late in the fourth quarter, when he passed up a potentially game-tying opportunity to run for the end zone:
Could Rodgers have made it to the goal line? It seems unlikely, but a big run would have, at worst and barring a fumble, set Green Bay up with fourth-and-goal from well inside the five-yard line. Instead, Rodgers threw a pass with zero chance of success to Davante Adams. When it clunked to the turf, head coach Matt LaFleur, trailing by eight and with 2:05 to play, opted for a field goal rather than one last shot at a touchdown.
That was the last time the Packers touched the ball in their 2020 season.
It almost wasn’t! LaFleur’s curious strategy nearly paid off. After a quick first down, a pair of stops set up third-and-4 at the Bucs’ 37-yard line. If Green Bay could get a stop, it’d give Rodgers the ball deep in his own territory after a punt with roughly 90-100 seconds left and zero timeouts. But, this happened:
The question isn’t whether this is a penalty; if we’re going by the rulebook, Kevin King’s tug of the jersey certainly qualifies as, at the very least, a hold. The question is whether it should have been called. Tyler Johnson may be a rookie, but he sold that slight contact on a pass he probably wasn’t going to catch like a veteran Premier Leaguer. And that was enough to convince the back judge to throw a flag and grant a game-sealing first down in a situation where he’d allowed contact all day.
Here’s a play at the end of the second quarter that ultimately ended in at least a seven-point swing for the Buccaneers:
Sean Murphy-Bunting makes a great play to pick off Rodgers. He also gets away with a pretty blatant hold while the ball is in the air:
Five plays later, Brady would hit Scotty Miller in the end zone for a 39-yard touchdown and a 21-10 halftime lead. This wasn’t an isolated incident! Rodgers went back to Allen Lazard on third-and-10 in the fourth quarter of a 28-23 game. And again, the play was broken up by Murphy-Bunting in coverage enabled by the kind of hold a more scrutinous officiating crew would have flagged:
Here’s a closer look at Murphy-Bunting grabbing a handful of jersey right as Lazard breaks to the middle of the field:
Those were two important plays, neither of which earned the laundry Johnson’s game-sealing pass interference did. The Packers have a valid complaint here. The selective enforcement of penalties downfield had a clear impact on how the NFC Championship Game unfolded!
Of course, this would not have mattered had Green Bay not spent large chunks of the game shooting itself in the foot.
Let’s go back to Kevin King, who would really prefer we did not. The fourth-year cornerback was a disaster. He looked overwhelmed and underprepared with each futile step he took to catch up to whichever wideout was streaking past him:
In one half he’d been torched for two touchdowns through the air, including this baffling decision with eight seconds to play in the second quarter:
But King’s deficiencies could have been papered over with effective play calling and execution. What the hell is he doing in single coverage against an offense with zero timeouts and the ball nearly 40 yards from the goal line? Why isn’t there any safety help? Why does King, knowing Tampa’s only options are passes to the sideline or end zone, promptly give up leverage in both directions?
King wouldn’t even have been in this situation had teammate Will Redmond been able to field Brady’s arm punt one play earlier:
To defensive coordinator Mike Pettine’s credit, he was able to make halftime adjustments to pressure Brady and force him into three second-half interceptions. The lapses of his first half, however — where his unit gave up seven of 10 third- or fourth-down conversions, including four on third-and-long — were inevitably too much to overcome.
The failures weren’t limited to the defense. David Bakhtiari’s absence was sorely felt, one week after the Green Bay offensive line held the explosive Rams’ pass rush to only one QB hit. Rick Wagner, promoted to right tackle after Billy Turner slid over to Bakhtiari’s vacated spot, was repeatedly embarrassed by Shaquil Barrett, who had three sacks and knocked Rodgers down four times. Jason Pierre-Paul added two more sacks from the opposite edge. All told, Tampa’s five sacks matched a season worst for the Pack’s blockers.
Aaron Jones, playing in possibly his final game in green and gold, fumbled twice and missed the bulk of the second half with an upper body injury. Equanimeous St. Brown dropped a two-point conversion that hit him in the breadbasket. Rodgers blanked a wide-open Lazard in the end zone and his team was forced to settle for a field goal instead.
That, of course, is not the field goal decision that will follow LaFleur to the ends of the earth. The Packers opted to trust their defense to create a three-and-out late in a game where they’d failed to do that even a single time. Despite that, analytics suggested it wasn’t as catastrophically misguided as the overwhelming consensus thought:
There was some recent data to suggest fourth-and-goal from the seven was a mistake. The Packers had averaged just 3.2 yards per play in the red zone and had failed to gain more than one yard on 10 of their 15 snaps inside the TB 20. Still, the field goal left Green Bay in need of a touchdown to have a chance. Rather than let Aaron Rodgers, 2020’s presumptive MVP, guide the fate of his team, LaFleur deferred to his defense. It was the wrong decision.
***
Rodgers was his typically “clear, but cryptic” self in his postgame interview. He told reporters he understood the appeal of a late field goal, but that the decision ultimately wasn’t his. He was also noncommittal about his future at Lambeau Field.
"[The Packers have] a lot of guys' futures that are uncertain — myself included. That's what's sad about it, most, getting this far. Obviously, it's going to be an end at some point, whether we make it past this one or not, but just the uncertainty's tough and finality of it all."
Rodgers’ saying his future is volatile isn’t a case of being difficult; it’s being realistic. The veteran quarterback saw the only franchise he’s known prepare for life without him by trading up to draft Jordan Love last spring. Despite a rookie crop and free agent market loaded with receiving help, the only notable move the Packers made last offseason was to sign Devin Funchess, who opted out of the season. This wasn’t a change in direction; between 2015 and 2020, his team used exactly one first- or second-round pick on a skill player. That was rookie running back AJ Dillon, who spent the majority of this season as a third-stringer (that said, I love the hell out of AJ Dillon and will be buying his shersey in the near future).
This is all to say that if the Packers are fully committed to their star passer, they very much suck at showing it. Rodgers probably isn’t going anywhere — he’s under contract through 2023 and it would be nearly impossible to replace the immediate value he brings to a win-now team on the trade market. But maybe that uncertainty and another NFC title game loss will be enough to spur some change from the Green Bay front office, especially in the face of *another* receiver-heavy draft.
Otherwise, the 2014-2020 Packers may just go down as the Midwestern version of the mid-2000s Eagles. — CD
3 Super Bowl storylines I’m already sick of
Although The Post Route unanimously predicted a Chiefs vs. Packers Super Bowl, I can’t say I’m surprised we ended up with Chiefs vs. Bucs instead. As if we would be lucky enough to avoid the cliche-filled narratives that accompany another Tom Brady appearance in the championship game.
It’s been less than 24 hours since the matchup was set, and I’ve already rolled my eyes so many times that I’ve given myself a perma-headache (OK, maybe that’s all the cedar pollen I’ve been dealing with this month). Here are three storylines in particular that are annoying me, with two whole weeks still left until Super Bowl 55.
The Tom Brady slobberfest
There is no question Tom Brady has the best career of any quarterback in NFL history, but let’s not hyperbolize his accomplishments either. I mean, c’mon:
Answer: Nooooope, he’s not even in the conversation!
You can acknowledge that Brady’s 10 trips to the Super Bowl is an inimitable feat, as is his performance this season at 43 years old. But you don’t have to appreciate it if you don’t want to either! I mean, there are plenty of reasons not to like him: TB12 method that reeks of both anti-vaxxer-type fake science and a CrossFit cult mentality; Deflategate; friendship with Trump; went to Michigan; this since-deleted tweet he inspired:
Here’s a quote that I heard on SportsCenter, rewound to make sure I heard it correctly, and then transcribed while choking back some vomit: “Tom Brady, you magnificent hunk of man, you spoil us and the NFL with your greatness.”
(John Anderson, whyyyyyy?)
Yes, Brady taking a second team to a Super Bowl is impressive (even if Tampa’s lines were the real heroes of the NFC title game). You know what else it is? B-o-r-i-n-g, just like Brady himself.
The old GOAT vs. the new GOAT
It took approximately one minute after the Chiefs’ win over the Bills went final for everyone to make this same groan-worthy reference:
Did you know Patrick Mahomes was six years old when Tom Brady won his first Super Bowl? Did you know Brady graduated high school the same year Mahomes was born? Did you know that Brady is old and Mahomes is young?!?
It’s all so cringe — a phrase I normally dislike for its smarminess but will make an exception in this case — and it makes me unable to enjoy the symmetry of a different Brady vs. Mahomes angle: Brady led the NFL’s last dynasty and Mahomes is trying to establish his team as the next one. (Brady is arguably the reason the Chiefs aren’t already a dynasty. Well, him and Dee Ford.)
In many ways, it’s fitting that Mahomes has to go through Brady to do it, as if the entire season has been building up to this showdown (you could compare it to Buffy vs. the soul-less Angel, only if you’re feeling blasphemous). But I also know the “passing of the torch” or “king stays the king” stories that will emerge from the Super Bowl, and I would rather not be subjected to any of it.
“No one believed in us”
After the AFC Championship, Tyreek Hill took a page straight out of the Patriots’ playbook:
He might owe Tom Brady royalties for that one.
Look, I know NFL players sometimes have to create their own motivation, but no one was underestimating the defending champs who were favored in the game. Hill’s quote was basically the football version of this tweet:
And just wait, because it’ll get worse. No matter who wins the Super Bowl, they’re going to be spouting off this same nonsense as the confetti rains down on them, guaranteed. — SH