Mellinger Minutes: What’s wrong with Mahomes, Darwin Thompson, and an all-decade list
My favorite moment of the Chiefs’ win over the Raiders came long after the outcome had been decided and, even, after CBS pulled the game from most of the country.
The moment came late in the fourth quarter, when the Chiefs rode 5-foot-8 and 200-pound running back Darwin Thompson down the field, and then 6-foot-6 and 309-pound guard Andrew Wylie rode Thompson into the end zone.
It was gorgeous. Look at this form:
You might remember this was the second time a Chiefs lineman plainly pushed a running back into the end zone. The first time meant a lot more:
I love these plays, mostly for the teamwork and extra effort it shows but also the example of one of the million subtle and tough things expected of offensive linemen*.
*I’ve looked, by the way, and don’t find anything in the rule book explicitly addressing a lineman pushing a teammate forward. I’ve been told by two people in football that it’s only illegal to PULL a teammate, not push, but I don’t see anything on that, either.
I loved it, enough that I found Wylie on my way out of the locker room for a quick congratulations.
“Thanks, that was fun!” he said.
I told him my favorite part was that it looked like Wylie made his initial block and then sort of grabbed Thompson by the chest and twisted him to keep him from going down before the goal line.
Because Wylie is Wylie he then broke the play down:
“Usually, it’s just a push in. But Darwin, he runs with so much leverage, he’s lower. So he kept running with all my weight on top of him, pushing him down, and he kept his legs moving. I gave him a little extra shove but that was all him, honestly. I got the full wrap on him. I knew I had to get one leg, or just a step, or else he would’ve gone down and that would’ve been all my fault. But that kid runs hard, that was sweet.”
It’s the little things, you guys.
This week’s eating recommendation is the whole branzino at Corvino (but, seriously, everything there is delicious) and the reading recommendation is Seth Wickersham and Don Van Natta on the Rams-Chargers shotgun marriage in Los Angeles.
Please give me a follow on Twitter and Facebook and as always thanks for the help and thanks for reading.
I do not know.
But I can make some guesses!
Patrick Mahomes is not as sharp as we’ve been accustomed to seeing. I’m guessing some is footwork, some the lack of reps with the injuries, and maybe some residual mental scar tissue that has him wanting to protect against another injury.
But I do think he’s bailed pockets before he needs to, and I know he’s missed throws he usually hits, from the obvious like this ...
... to more subtle misses like this ...
... and there are also instances his receivers aren’t helping him as much as they need to ...
Analyzing what Mahomes is doing wrong is difficult because nobody really plays the position like him, and we’re still learning what he’s capable of and what he’s trying to do in certain situations.
It’s also difficult, because when he’s going right, he tends to make plays that blow your mind, and “Hey, he just should’ve run around from sideline to sideline for like 9 seconds and then rifled it through three defenders” is awkward at best.
But I do think there is some real stuff going on here.
The run game matters, and I’m saying that even as a man who believes the Chiefs should throw it 70% of the time. More specifically, the run game up the middle matters.
The Chiefs are averaging 3.4 yards per rush up the middle, and 2.6 yards to the left guard. Those numbers rank 24th and 29th, and we saw that most clearly on the fourth-and-1 run up the middle that was stuffed.
The problem isn’t just the lack of being able to gain yards on the ground. The problem is that teams know the Chiefs don’t run it effectively, particularly up the middle, so they can spread the defense out.
That means less space on the edges, which means less space for the Chiefs’ best playmakers. The Chiefs’ best threat in the middle of the field is probably Travis Kelce catching something short and breaking tackles. That’s suboptimal.
Kareem Hunt ran behind a generally better offensive line last year, but even then he had to do a lot on his own, and even then the Chiefs weren’t great between the tackles.
Again, some of this can be explained with injuries — we talk a lot about Mahomes and Hill, but don’t forget about Eric Fisher. Also, I like Austin Reiter a lot, but he’s not Mitch Morse.
None of these are fatal flaws, even the difficultly running up the middle. Thirty-one teams would trade quarterback and receiving talent with the Chiefs. They can make this work, but all these factors and more mean they’ll probably have to do it differently than last year.
I got a lot of questions like this and, well, I don’t think the line has been bad in pass protection. The Raiders sacked him just once, and hit him just twice, according to the official stats.
My eyes see snaps where Mahomes breaks the pocket too soon, and for an example let’s take another look at a play from the above answer:
I’m not sure why he left the pocket there. He’s terrific rolling right, but maybe that throw is more open if he’s closer to Sammy Watkins and in the pocket.
Again, maybe that’s a byproduct of the injuries, and the subconscious priority of avoiding more time out.
Whatever it’s worth, Pro Football Focus ranks the Chiefs 13th in pass protection, which is about what I’d have guessed: average, maybe a little better.
The problem with the line has been run blocking. PFF has the Chiefs 18th, while Football Outsiders* puts them 27th.
*Which use more of a statistical approach, compared to PFF’s concentration on film. Whatever it’s worth, Outsiders rank the Chiefs sixth in pass protection.
The truth is this line is not built for power running. The linemen are required to be athletic and agile and effective in space. That lines with the Chiefs’ pass-heavy approach and Reid’s success with screens.
I’m not saying the line can’t be better. Of course they can, especially in the run.
I’m just saying I don’t think they’re the problem.
Well, look buddy. You’re talking to a guy who wrote an actual column with this actual headline: “The 2019 season is a fun prelude to another Chiefs-Patriots AFC Championship game.”
The Chiefs lost their first two games after that column, then their quarterback, and now have an offense that’s struggling and a defense that’s surging. Tom Brady has looked like a less athletic Alex Smith since that column, and the big bad Patriots defense has given up 65 points to the only two teams with winning records it has faced.
Also, the Ravens have won eight games in a row, including these: at Seattle, against the Patriots, against the Texans, at the Rams and against the 49ers.
So, I would say this looks significantly different than I previously thought.
The lesson, as always: I’m an idiot.
The Patriots’ offense appears to be sort of a mess. Tom Brady is throwing more passes than anyone else in the league, and doing so unimpressively.
Over the last six games he is completing just 57.4% of his passes for 1,525 yards, eight touchdowns, and three interceptions. He’s averaging just 5.91 yards per attempt.
Among the 38 quarterbacks who’ve thrown at least 50 passes over that time, Brady ranks 34th in completion percentage, 28th in passer rating, and 35th in yards per attempt. For the season, he ranks 19th in QBR, right between Jameis Winston and Jacoby Brissett.
They are also 29th in yards per rush and 15th in points per possession (despite the best average field position).
I am not here to pronounce Brady as a member of the Philip Rivers Done Like Dinner Club. Predicting Brady’s demise has been a bit of a cottage industry, dating at least all the way back to the night before the 2014 American League Wild Card Game, when the Chiefs smoked the Patriots and Jimmy Garappolo looked decent.
Brady has won three Super Bowls since that night which, you might note, is three more than the Chiefs have won in the last 49 years.
The Patriots’ worst season in that stretch is literally equal to the Chiefs’ best season in a generation: a loss in the AFC Championship game (to, of course, the Patriots).
On the other side, the Chiefs’ offense doesn’t look nearly as good as most of us expected, and is a looooooong way from last year.
Patrick Mahomes is coming off his least productive two games as an NFL quarterback. That he’s doing it against that defense, in that building, is one of the more interesting regular season moments in recent Chiefs history.
My expectation is that Mahomes will perform well. He and Tyreek Hill have only been healthy together for three consecutive games, and I think the Chiefs have more questions than defenses can have answers for in 2019’s version of the NFL.
There was a time I thought this was simply round one of the fight for AFC superiority. I was wrong.
There was a time a lot of people thought this might be a mismatch, because the Chiefs struggled for a bit. They were wrong.
So I’m not sure exactly what to expect, other than a fascinating matchup.
My brain tells me it’s silly to expect the Patriots to lose their first home game in more than two years, but I do think it’s a distinct possibility.
Well, sure, there’s a way. Here’s one:
- The Chiefs win out, including this weekend at New England, and finish 12-4.
- The Patriots lose to the Chiefs and Bills at home, finishing 12-4.
- The Texans lose at least once (they play the Titans twice), finishing 11-5.
For the Chiefs to secure the No. 1 seed, the Ravens would still need to lose at least twice more against a schedule that goes at Bills, Jets at home, at Browns, and Steelers at home.
That seems unlikely, but in the above scenario the Chiefs would at least host an AFC divisional round game and then host a potential AFC Championship against anyone except the Ravens.
More importantly, that scenario would give the Chiefs a first-round bye.
If you want to get into the weeds here, the Chiefs would have the tiebreaker with the Ravens, and not with the Texans. A three-way tiebreaker goes to win percentage in the conference, which would likely favor the Texans because two of their losses came against NFC teams.
But, yeah. The Chiefs are probably looking at the No. 3 seed* or No. 4 seed*.
*First-round game would be against the Steelers if the season ended today, but could also be the Titans, Raiders, Colts, or even the Browns.
*First-round opponent would most likely be the Bills.
Well, yes.
Which is a different thing than saying Thompson stinks, or shouldn’t be in the gameplan.
Let’s get through this reasonably, like adults.
First, I don’t believe the Chiefs have a great running back on the roster. I believe they have four guys somewhere between average and good. They all have different strengths and vulnerabilities, so it makes sense that the Chiefs’ best path is the fantasy football owner’s worst nightmare: RBBC.
We’re talking about Thompson in particular here, and I know he helped drain the clock in the fourth quarter, and generally looked like a starting caliber running back but he also was called for a holding penalty that nullified a touchdown.
Now, the call was fairly soft ...
... but he does push his right fist down on the defender’s foot, forcing him to the ground. I’m not sure Maxx Crosby would’ve made the play anyway, but that’s just another reason for Thompson not to do it, and it does line up with one of the unknowns about him coming out of Utah State.
He wasn’t asked to pass protect much in college, and his size makes the questions natural. He was pretty good with it in camp and in the preseason, but that’s a small sample, and that play is going to be remembered by the coaches.
So if I’m right that all four running backs (when healthy, obviously) are bunched together then the ability to help protect the franchise quarterback becomes a hell of a tiebreaker.
Now, one more time. I think Thompson should play more. I think he can be an effective part of the gameplan.
I do not think he will or should be the guy taking 75% of the snaps going forward.
Being the Chiefs’ assistant offensive coordinator* is a springboard into a head coaching job.
*Technically, they call it “offensive coordinator,” but I think we all know what’s up.
Doug Pederson did the job three years before taking over the Eagles, and Matt Nagy was in that position just one year before getting the Bears job. The exception here is Brad Childress, who was the OC in 2016, but I’m not sure he had designs on another head coaching job.
This is Bieniemy’s second year as Reid’s lead assistant, and he is believed to have interviewed for four jobs last offseason. The Chiefs offense has not been as productive as it was last year, but Bieniemy is smart, a hard worker, and carries a strong reputation among players and other coaches.
I guess there are things that could happen over the next month to suppress some of his momentum toward a head coaching job, but it’s hard to imagine him not getting interviews, and if those interviews come without any offers the conversation will turn toward the Rooney Rule’s effectiveness and the NFL’s track record on minority hires.
I can’t decide what I think of Bieniemy as a head coach. He’s objectively qualified, and would bring a positive energy and a good feel for when to use sticks and when to use carrots.
But his public presentation makes him a bit of a mystery. Most of his answers come across as a man trying to say as little as possible because that’s what his boss wants.
Maybe that’s the smart thing, and an indication of a smart man knowing chain of command. I will never pretend that coaches are the same in press conferences as in the parts of their jobs that matter more.
But I also think teams are looking for head coaches who are their own man, and who come with their own answers. Bieniemy can present that in interviews. But it’s at least one question I’d have if I was on the other side of the table.
Also, if and when he gets a job, it will be a lot like when Pederson left and Nagy was the easy promotion. One of Andy Reid’s geniuses is in keeping a deep roster of sharp assistants.
Mike Kafka, the current quarterbacks coach, would be Next OC Up.
I would like to start here: I wish with everything I have that they all stayed, and I also understand with everything I have why they all left.
College sports are often personal in ways that the pros just can’t duplicate, and that round of realignment meant something real was lost with a lot of us who grew up with the Big Eight and/or Big 12. None of that is coming back.
Now, all that said, and using hindsight that washes away any worries about the Big 12 imploding its way out of the Power Five, I’m not sure any of them are objectively better off.
The money is bigger. That’s important. These things are never steady targets, but last year the Big Ten’s distribution shares were $54 million, the SEC $43.1 million, and the Big 12 around $35 million.
That’s a real difference.
But the problem with the exchange is that it’s not as simple as just getting an extra $8 million or $19 million from a league. It’s also joining a league where everyone else is getting an extra $8 million or $19 million from a league, and knowing that many of those same schools are also generating more than you from donors and sponsorships.
In that way, every school that left the Big 12 can be richer in a vacuum but “poorer” when compared to the other schools in the new leagues.
There is no way to say this with certainty, and reasonable minds can disagree, but I believe that each of the schools who left made their paths to both sustained football success and a potential spot in a College Football Playoff more difficult.
Again, I understand why they all left. And if I was in charge of any of those schools — particularly Mizzou and Texas A&M, in that second wave — I’d have probably done the same thing.
The Big 12 was an abject mess, with poor leadership and big disorganization. In a lot of real ways, the league got what it deserved.
But if there was a way to sprinkle stability dust across the whole thing I do believe those programs would be in better positions now in many ways.
Now, all of this might just be the wistful thinking of someone who loved the Big Eight and Big 12 (often despite the Big Eight and Big 12). And there is also the reality that so many relationships had been frayed so deeply that it probably couldn’t have been salvaged.
But I think about it all the time.
Woo, Joel came here to ask the tough questions.
I have some layered thoughts about this. First, I believe that handing over billions of dollars to foolproof private businesses is plainly stupid, and one of those things that will be impossible to explain when the aliens come.
Loads of real research shoot Trent Brown-sized holes in the bogus and handpicked economic impact studies routinely pushed by professional sports teams.
The idea that cities get the tax money back in the form of consumer spending or jobs is a lie. It is make believe. It is insulting and should not continue.
The world would literally be a better place if we let professional sports teams pay for their own stadiums and instead either cut taxes for the rest of us or used that money to, I don’t know, improve schools or something.
But I also live in the real world, and even if I had a real job and not one directly tied to the existence of professional sports in a market on the fringes of being able to support it, I would also understand that sometimes people buy a Range Rover when they should get a RAV4 because it makes them feel good.
So, I guess that’s a longer way of saying that when the Truman Sports Complex leases near completion I expect there to be a passionate debate and transparent grandstanding on all sides, but ultimately a compromise that’s palatable for everyone because Kansas City wants the Royals and Chiefs to stay and the teams don’t actually want to go anywhere.
The Royals were just bought by a local man who has made it clear he sees the investment as more than business, and the Chiefs are routinely among the NFL’s leaders in attendance and local TV ratings.
Notably, they also play in a league that just gave up Los Angeles as a threat, and that has many more teams in worse local spots.
Should be good for some #content, though!
I’ve looked at this question for six seconds and already know I’m going to put WWWWAAAAYYYY more into this than I intend at the moment.
But, what the hell, maybe we do a top 10?
And maybe the criteria is sports figures who made the biggest impact in the decade?
So ... a list?
A list!
10. John Sherman. Four months ago, most of Kansas City did not know his name. But if you lead a group of Kansas City investors in buying the Royals and essentially promise to not only keep them here but perhaps move the team downtown, well, that’s a significant impact.
9. Gary Pinkel. The winningest coach in Missouri football history (by total, not percentage) led the program’s successful transition to the SEC. He was the right man at the right time, and even with the drama at the end remains a hard act to follow.
8. Bill Self. He won at least a share of every Big 12 championship but one this decade, made two Final Fours, and coached nine lottery picks, including Joel Embiid. His accomplishments merit a better ranking here, but the current NCAA investigation (no matter what I think of the absurdity of the NCAA’s rules and enforcement) and the expectations of Kansas basketball are factors.
7. Matt Besler. The best and most accomplished soccer player Kansas City has produced. He became the first Kansas Citian to play in a World Cup and helped his hometown team go from an independent league baseball field to four trophies this decade, including the 2013 MLS Cup.
6. Bill Snyder. The Miracle 2.0 began in 2009 but hit its peak in 2012, when K-State came within two games of playing for the national championship. He was already a college football legend, but his second act made his impact even greater. It looks like the administration got his replacement right this time.
5. Cliff Illig. On this list he represents Neal Patterson for Sporting KC’s push from irrelevancy to 125 consecutive sellouts in a gorgeous stadium that was initially seen as an enormous risk but now stands as an illustration of the team’s success and its leaders’ vision.
4. Sal Perez. Another selection that represents others, from Eric Hosmer to Lorenzo Cain to Alex Gordon and others. That group of players — lacking a transformative star, but full of competitive cusses who just kept pushing — did the previously unthinkable in winning a World Series for the Royals. We’re choosing Perez because of that one time he pulled a slider two feet off the plate down the third base line to win the 2014 AL Wild Card Game.
3. Dayton Moore. He’s here for convincing David Glass of what would be required to drag the Royals from the bottom of the industry, and then executing the plan well enough for a parade*. The Process™ was bumpy, took too long, and didn’t last long enough, but it happened.
*Drink.
2. Clark Hunt. This is almost certainly higher than most would put him, but he’s here for two main reasons. First, nothing in local sports matters like the Chiefs, and second, Hunt had his finest moment when the franchise needed it most. He replaced Scott Pioli and Romeo Crennel and the dysfunction they oversaw with Andy Reid and John Dorsey and the stability Hunt had spent years talking about. In that way, Hunt is a representation of Reid and others who replaced the tragic mess of 2012 with what is now one of the league’s most sustained runs of success.
1. Patrick Mahomes. He should probably be lower, because he’s only played 29 games and won once in the playoffs. But it’s impossible to argue that any single athlete has made more of an impact on Kansas City.
That list is probably heavier on coaches and owners and lighter on athletes (especially college) than I’d like, but if we’re taking the sort of 30,000 foot view of an entire decade I think that’s reasonable.
I’m a hardcore real tree guy, and not just that, but I’m Griswold enough that we have to go together to get the tree from a real tree farm with sleigh rides and cookies. Christmas music will play on the drive there, the drive back, and while we put up the tree*.
*Except in years where I just changed our wifi setup and I can’t get the Sonos working and I’m sure these are the same problems our forefathers had.
Real trees look better, smell better, and just feel better. I’m corny enough that I probably draw some subconscious connection between having a real tree and having a real Christmas. I believe in watering, in sweeping the dead needles that inevitably fall, in building as many fires as possible in the month of December, and cooking the same braised short ribs recipe for every Christmas dinner*.
*You guys, not just that, but I’m corny enough that I spent five or six years taste testing different butchers for the best short ribs and if I’m honest I’d rather not tell you the winner quite yet because I haven’t ordered them.
Now, I believe all of that in my heart, but I’ve also made a shift over the last 10 years or so.
I used to be a pretty obnoxious real tree zealot. I used to believe that fake trees are only for fake Christmases.
I have grown up, at least in this way. I get it. Artificial trees have no holes, require no maintenance, don’t poke you as you’re putting ornaments on, don’t make messes and, I assume, can even be doctored to smell like a forest full of real trees.
People are busy, time is precious, and if I’m honest with myself at some point I’ll probably make the switch.
But not yet.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year and last week was one of my favorite Thanksgivings of my adult life. My sister’s family flew in, and I was a little nervous about how it would go with eight people in a three-bedroom house but it was great.
My nephews are older than my sons, which means our kids are the clear winners when we all get together, but the older boys were sweet and fun and generous. We had some rough moments, obviously, but really it was like a cheesy movie for much of the week.
The best came just before Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was taking turns saying what they’re thankful for, and as it broke up, our older son turned to me and said, “Daddy, I’m thankful for Gigi.”
Even writing that now gives me goosebumps. He had just turned 3 when my mom passed away, and I was crushed for a thousand reasons, but one of the biggest was that she and my boys wouldn’t get to know each other.
Our younger son was 1, so obviously he’ll have no memory of her, and I’ve been worried the same might be true for our oldest. I hold no illusions that he’ll have well defined memories, or tell stories of specific things they did together.
But just that he thought of her, in that moment, and then thought to turn around and share it with me made my day and week and year.
This week, other than that moment, I’m particularly grateful for the kids being able to spend so much time with their cousins. I grew up without cousins. Mom was an only child and my dad’s only sibling didn’t have children of her own. I was always jealous of my friends who grew up with a brother or cousins. Excited for my kids that they have both.
This story was originally published December 3, 2019 at 5:00 AM.