Chiefs’ Derrick Johnson has redefined the evolution of middle linebackers

Twelve years. Has it really been that long? Twelve years of training camp, 12 years of season openers, 12 years of varying levels of optimism that at least so far have turned into varying levels of disappointment.

Derrick Johnson has seen so much with the Chiefs, and in the NFL. None of his teammates have been in the league longer. None of his teammates have seen their slice of the NFL world change more.

In Johnson’s first season, middle linebackers were defined by run stuffers like London Fletcher, Zach Thomas and Derrick Brooks. Brian Urlacher was in his prime. Middle ’backers were asked to fill gaps between the tackles. Anything they did outside that area was mostly a bonus.

Twelve years later, filling gaps between the tackles is merely the cover charge, with Johnson and younger players like Luke Kuechly and Clay Matthews redefining what it means to play middle linebacker. Guys don’t last long if they can’t make plays from sideline to sideline, evolving along with offenses to the point of chameleon — part linebacker, part safety, part coach.

And Johnson does it as well as anyone.

“To play all three downs, it’s hard to do,” Johnson said. “I’ve seen linebackers come through here that couldn’t play all three downs, and they’re just here a couple years and you’re out. There’s longevity in playing all three downs.”

Most teams have divided Johnson’s job into parts, divvying the responsibility among several players. It’s too complicated, and so physically demanding. Most teams just can’t rely on one man.

That’s why, in most places, the impact and importance of middle linebackers has diminished during Johnson’s 12 years. One more sign of this came in the last week, when Ramik Wilson — the other first-team middle linebacker on the Chiefs’ official depth chart, and just 24 years old — was not only cut, but cleared waivers.

Johnson is rightfully proud of his ability to play all three downs. The Chiefs played more dime defense than any team in the league last year, according to Pro Football Focus, and Johnson played in 97.6 percent of their snaps, using Pro Football Reference’s numbers. All told, Johnson played more snaps than all but six linebackers, and a higher percentage of snaps than all but seven.

This versatility and durability gives the Chiefs advantages on several fronts. Most obviously, it means a smart player with diverse skills sitting in the middle of the defense on virtually every snap, giving defensive coordinator Bob Sutton access to the entire playbook — Johnson can plug a running lane, blitz or cover a running back, tight end or even a receiver on any given play.

“He’s always been a guy who can do a lot of things for you,” Sutton said. “That’s a real blessing for us to have, I’ll say it like that. I know that for sure.”

Johnson’s longevity is also attributable to his good health. He cares for his body in an immaculate way, shedding a few pounds every year to maintain the speed that makes him so effective. Last year, at 33 and coming off an Achilles tendon tear that some experts predicted would be debilitating, he played perhaps the best season of his career.

But there’s something more subtle at work here, too. Johnson isn’t built like many inside linebackers. He’s a little slimmer in the shoulders, built more for the chase than the collision. Perhaps because of that, he has developed a style of tackling all his own — more dupe than duke, using brains and quickness to exploit angles and gaps others don’t see.

“I think it’s fascinating,” says Willie Lanier, the former Chief and one of the greatest middle linebackers of all-time. “He’s able to get under the pads of that offensive lineman and see the lane where the running back is going to go, and make the tackle at that person’s legs at the line of scrimmage or many times in the backfield.”

Lanier sits on the NFL’s health and safety committee. He says committee members have discussed Johnson specifically as someone whose tackling style should be emulated — both for its effectiveness and avoidance of helmet-to-helmet hits.

The problem is the same thing that makes Johnson such a good player — he’s unique.

“He’s one of the few in the league who’s able to do that,” Lanier said. “He has to see the moment of strike. He does it better than anyone in football.”

Chiefs teammate Justin Houston will miss at least five games, fellow outside linebacker Tamba Hali is still recovering from a knee injury, cornerback Sean Smith is gone and safety Eric Berry missed most of the preseason with a contract dispute. But the rest of the roster is good enough that the Chiefs’ Super Bowl hopes have never been more realistic since Johnson arrived 12 years ago.

To get there, will need every bit of Johnson’s versatility, and durability, now more than ever before.

This story was originally published September 9, 2016 at 12:24 PM with the headline "Chiefs’ Derrick Johnson has redefined the evolution of middle linebackers."