Edwards didn't kill KC offense
By JOE POSNANSKI
The Kansas City Star
These days, it’s pretty popular to smash Chiefs coach Herm Edwards. All week, people have called and written in to say that the Chiefs need to fire Herm, deport Herm, sic the IRS on Herm, make Herm write “I will call pass plays” on a chalkboard 500 times.
Those emotions are understandable after that torturous Kansas City-Indianapolis playoff game — one friend compared watching that game to watching a videotape of his divorce proceedings. The only way that game could have been more painful to watch is if that oppressively annoying guy from the “very, very rewarding” commercials had announced the game (what country is that guy supposed to be from, anyway?).
Still, I have to say: It seems to me Herm is getting a bad rap.
It seems to me that when you look at the season, the guy did a pretty remarkable job.
First off, the Chiefs made the playoffs. They made the playoffs. We all know the Chiefs had been in the playoffs exactly once in eight seasons. Edwards also became the first coach in Chiefs history to reach the playoffs in his first year. Maybe that does not earn the guy a tickertape parade, but don’t you think it would prevent people from buying every variation of fireherm.com domain names?
Second, the Chiefs made the playoffs even with an ancient and toothless offense. It’s amazing how people want to blame Edwards for the collapse of the Chiefs’ high-flying offense. It’s not fair. Edwards didn’t destroy the offense. The offense expired, like an old license plate, and Herm just happened to be the guy left standing in the long line at the Department of Motor Vehicles with all of the wrong forms.
Don’t believe it? Let’s look at the Chiefs’ best offense. That was 2003, the year they went 13-3 and set a team record with 484 points. What made that offense go? Priest Holmes scored 27 touchdowns that year and was probably the best player in the NFL. Willie Roaf and John Tait were terrific tackles —quarterback Trent Green was only sacked 21 times that whole year. Fullback Tony Richardson went to his first Pro Bowl, and receiver Johnnie Morton had his last effective season, as he caught 50 passes and four touchdown passes.
What do those five key contributors have in common? They’re all gone. That’s half the offense. We’ve been watching this offense soften for a while now. Even last year — under the genius of Dick Vermeil and Al Saunders — the Chiefs’ offense scored fifteen fewer touchdowns than the year before. That’s a huge dropoff. The Chiefs’ offense was clearly in a downward cycle.
Then Roaf unexpectedly retired, Holmes disappeared into some sort of San Antonio Bermuda Triangle (more on him in a minute), Green got knocked unconscious in the first game and was never the same. Everybody got older. What then? Herm Edwards was left with a backup quarterback (and, later, a woozy Green), a creaky and beat-up offensive line, no receivers, one terrific tight end, one overworked running back and a guy who had never played fullback in his life. The Chiefs didn’t need a brilliant offensive coordinator. They needed a time machine.
Somehow, Herm Edwards and first-year coordinator Mike Solari coaxed enough yards out of Larry Johnson to make the playoffs. Their play-calling wasn’t dynamic, and at times it was so predictable that one housewife in Salina named Mary was able to predict every play before it happened (“And I don’t know the first thing about football,” Mary wrote). It was hard to watch at times, but let’s be brutally honest here: Those great Chiefs offenses were dead before Herm ever got here. He just got stuck delivering the eulogy.
Speaking of eulogies, we’ve never had the chance to talk about how much it has hurt the Chiefs to lose Priest Holmes. Larry Johnson stepped in, and he has been such a dominant runner that many have forgotten Holmes entirely. But Holmes was a special player, the LaDainian Tomlinson of his day. He could run inside and outside, he almost never fumbled, he caught the ball, he blocked, he was a touchdown maker anywhere near the goal line. Honestly, Johnson lacks many of those skills. There are only so many things an offense can do with Johnson on the field. He is a great runner. But Priest Holmes was the kind of guy you could build a great offense around.
OK, back to Edwards. Herm has known ever since he got here that he would have to blow up this team — and it wouldn’t be popular. In many ways, the Chiefs were the worst kind of team to inherit as a coach — an aging but popular team that had never really done very much in the first place.
Plus, this team is precisely the opposite of the kind of team Herm Edwards wants. You have to coach what you believe in, and Edwards believes you win games with a dominant defense, a power running game and the occasional deep pass. The Chiefs he inherited had a soft defense, a finesse running game and an antique multifaceted short passing game.
I give him tremendous credit for coaching that team into the playoffs. Now, he will get the chance to build this franchise in his image. Make no mistake — there will be major changes. Will Shields may retire. Trent Green’s future is in limbo. The Chiefs will go for a different kind of receiver. The defense improved in 2006 (its 16th-place NFL ranking doesn’t look like much, but it’s their best ranking this decade), but I suspect the defense will also have a very different look.
Time will tell whether Edwards is the kind of coach who can win 11 or more games, the kind of coach who can build a dominating team, the kind of coach who can win a Super Bowl. For now, though, it just seems someone should stand up for Herm Edwards. Sure, it would have been nice to see some more imagination and nerve in the Indianapolis playoff game. But I’m not sure many coaches in the NFL could have gotten them there in the first place.
