SteVo+ 3,702 Posted June 21, 2014 Knights of Andreas Part I Chapter Seven – Control Head coach Caden Daniel watches practice from the sidelines. After a bye week of lighter practice and heavier focus on rest, the Knights prepare for Sunday’s divisional matchup with Denver. The Los Angeles media had a field day with the concept of light rest for a 2-6 football team, but Daniel—who has come to miss the media of Storrs, Connecticut—knows how to shrug it off by now. That 2-6 record has stuck in Daniel’s head for over a week. At UConn, he never had a record worse than 3-2. He knew turning the Knights into a winning team would be a multi-year project, and deep down, he knows management has dealt him a crappy hand, losing the team’s best players to free agency. Despite this, Daniel still feels dismayed to see his team making mistakes they shouldn’t make, losing games they shouldn’t lose. He naturally wants to blame himself, but reflecting on his own shortcomings has made him wonder: should he have stayed in college? Though he is still very much optimistic about his NFL career, he can’t deny he was a better college coach. Part of him still misses the days when he could read the emotions of his team just by studying their faces. Now, in the pros, there’s a lot more uncertainty. Everything is decided on Sunday. Daniel believes his decision to lighten practice during the bye week was a good one, but he won’t know until the Knights play Denver on Sunday. But things shouldn’t be this way. He played in the NFL for 12 years. It’s a different game now, of course, but this is far from uncharted territory for him. He sees Jonathan Maverick make a lazy mistake and moves in to correct him. “Jonathan. Always keep your eyes downfield. How many more times are we going to go over this?” “Sorry, coach.” “Apologizing is not going to make up for it. These are fundamentals, you understand? We both know you like to move around in the pocket, and that’s an asset. You buy time, you make plays that way. But once your eyes leave your receivers, it’s game over. Understand?” “Yeah, I got it.” “Okay. Let’s run it again.” It’s the third year in a row Caden Daniel has received interest from NFL teams seeking a head coach, but this is the first time he’s taken an interview. And just a few short hours ago, his agent relayed to him the official offer from Oakland: five years, thirty million. Until he heard that dollar figure, Daniel had only thought of his success at the University of Connecticut: the team’s multiple Big East titles in his five seasons, the NFL players he had groomed, the young kids he had molded into men, and most importantly, the bright future of the football program. But now, everything seems different. Daniel knows it’s not the money calling him. His recently signed contract with UConn is more than enough to take care of him and his family for life. It’s the allure of going back to the NFL, where he has two Super Bowl rings as a backup journeyman QB, and winning more as a head coach. Daniel always suspected his coaching career would ultimately take him back to the NFL, but the surprising success he enjoyed at UConn has put that notion aside—until now. For the moment, Daniel enjoys a quiet Sunday at home, playoff football on his television. (Regrettably, the Huskies season is already over, no BCS bowl game this year.) He has already talked this over with his family, and he suspects his wife thinks his made is already made up. Maybe it is. The hardest part won’t be moving from coast to coast; the hardest part will be leaving so many great people behind at UConn, and wondering what could have been had he stayed. But he can no longer ignore the itch, the opportunity… A few hours later, Daniel picks up the telephone and dials a number with a California area code. “Good afternoon, Coach Daniel,” says Chance Phillips, the newly hired general manager of the Oakland Raiders. “Good afternoon, Mr. Phillips. Thank you for taking my call.” “No trouble at all. Is this about the head coaching job?” “Indeed it is. Chance, firstly, I would like to thank you for the great opportunity. The challenges ahead may be great, but they aren’t insurmountable. You’ve convinced me. I accept the vacant head coaching position.” The fourth quarter ticks away. The Farmers Field crowd cherishes their team’s 24-14 lead, feeling a big win against the 3-4 Broncos pulling within reach. Two weeks ago should have been the start of a winning streak, but it wasn’t meant to be. Today is the day instead. Coach Daniel calls another sweep for McFadden. They’ve been working all day, as has everything else in the playbook. Daniel has been calling a good game, he knows, but his players have also been executing. McFadden takes the sweep and finds a hole. Denver closes it quickly, but McFadden still gets four yards. Third and two. The Knights are on Denver’s twenty-nine (a 46-yard kick from here), and as much as Daniel would like to keep the drive going, he wants to milk the clock more. As it ticks down under four minutes, he calls a McFadden run up the gut. Maverick lets the play clock wind all the way down, does nothing to quell to crowd noise, and hands off to McFadden. He’s hit at the line of scrimmage by Von Miller. Maybe a yard, but not two. Fourth down. Disappointed by the run blocking, Daniel shrugs it off and watches the clock tick down as the field goal unit takes the field. Fans boo, wanting the Knights to go for it. Sebastian Janikowski nails the kick and the clock holds at 3:15. 27-14, Knights. The Broncos set up shop with the ball. Defensive coordinator Merle Harden calls the play and Tim Tebow takes the snap from shotgun. Tebow sees nobody open, rolls left, and finds room. He scrambles for eleven yards. No more of that. Harden is tired of this kid’s scrambling, so he makes the linebackers shadow him. Running the hurry up, Tebow takes another snap quickly and looks deep. His eyes widen, he heaves a pass in the air, and it falls into the hands of Demaryius Thomas, streaking downfield with no one around him. The crowd groans before Thomas reaches the goal line, and the extra point makes it 27-21 with 2:56 to play. That was fast. Harden debriefs with his troops and determines the cause: a miscommunication. Michael Huff and Stanford Routt both covered the same man and left Thomas open. Knowing it’s too late in the year for such stupid errors, Harden instructs his men to call timeout again if they’re confused about a play call. Coach Daniel supports this decision. Before long it’s Daniel calling the plays, and his strategy remains unchanged: run the ball, milk the clock. Denver has all three timeouts left. He calls a handoff to McFadden in first down; he runs into a crowd for two yards. Timeout, Denver, 2:45 to play. They’re banking on a three-and-out. Daniel calls a sweep on second down; McFadden breaks a tackle, but a safety runs in for a big tackle and it’s only a three-yard gain. Timeout, Denver, 2:38 to play. Daniel wants a first down here to get the clock down to two minutes, but he sees the clock as more valuable. He calls a shotgun draw to McFadden; he sidesteps a few linemen but a linebacker drills him at the line of scrimmage. No gain. Denver lets the clock run and the Los Angeles crowd boos. Out comes the punt team. The Broncos take possession after the two-minute warning. Despite the pressure, Harden doesn’t back down from his strategy: linebackers shade Tebow, one-on-one coverage. The Christian wonder drops back and scans. Zack Grantzinger brings pressure from outside and Tebow steps up. He hits Johnson over the middle, and he’s tackled. 1:50, 1:49… Tebow sets the formation and shouts the call. Farmers Field gets loud. Tebow takes the snap. Briggs Randall comes unblocked and Tebow rolls left. Kirk Morrison moves in for the sack but Tebow lofts it downfield. Eric Decker runs for the ball, Stanford Routt five yards behind, and Decker catches it in stride. He bolts for the end zone, and the game is tied. The extra point gives Denver the lead, and whatever air was left inside the stadium gets sucked out. Coach Harden has nothing to say, and the sideline remains quiet as Maverick takes the ball with 1:36 to go. Still lots of time with two timeouts, the sudden change from run-first to no-huddle apparently doesn’t sit well. Maverick throws one incompletion after another, and before long, Tim Tebow is taking a knee to end the game. Broncos win, 28-27. The Knights march off the field, sadly familiar with this style of defeat. Their fans don’t boo this time; they’re too shocked to boo, and Coach Daniel shares their feelings. They finally played turnover-free football. The offensive line finally got some blocking (for the most part). And somehow it doesn’t add up to a win, all because of two defensive breakdowns when it mattered. Chalk up another should-have-been. Super Bowl XLIV is set; it’ll be the New Orleans Saints against the Indianapolis Colts. But Chance Phillips, newly hired general manager of the Oakland Raiders, pays no attention. He and his new head coach, Caden Daniel, are more concerned with finding a defensive coordinator. Their offensive staff is mostly in place, but all defensive positions are vacant. So far, they’ve vetted every possibility in the NFL and in college. Daniel wanted his defensive coordinator from Connecticut, but he fled to Division II for a head-coaching gig. They interviewed two whole rounds of candidates, eleven interviews altogether. Phillips has a few names he would be happy with, but Daniel insists they’ve yet to find their man. During his own interview and in the days since his hiring, Daniel has stressed the importance of quality assistant coaches. Phillips liked that opinion initially, but now it’s causing some trouble. He doesn’t want to create another round of candidates, so he’s found one they already interviewed: Merle Harden. Despite his underwhelming interview, Harden’s experience is extensive: sixteen years as a high school head coach, three years in Division I-AA, five years in Division I, then seven years as the Carolina Panthers’ defensive coordinator. At age fifty-nine, he’s not the young, fresh face a franchise like Oakland could use, but his defensive credentials speak for themselves. Harden arrives in Oakland for a second interview, which proceeds much more casually this time. Phillips, Daniel, and owner Wayne Schneider are already familiar with Harden’s football mind, though they still ask questions. Phillips likes that he is capable of coaching outside linebackers in coverage. Schneider likes the possibility of a 3-4 defense, though Phillips is on the fence. And Daniel likes his philosophy of trusting his secondary players with coverage. Phillips is lukewarm about this; putting corners and safeties on an island only increases the risk of them getting burned. But if he can build Harden a competent secondary, then Harden’s unpredictability with the front seven could create a formidable defense. After the interview concludes, the Raiders’ brain trust contemplates Harden as a defensive coordinator. Coach Daniel is still not sure he’s their man, but admits he’s warming up to the idea. Schneider and Phillips are also on the fence, but everyone in the room admits the defensive coordinator search has lasted too long. They need to hire someone. A few minutes into the meeting, Phillips knows Harden will be hired. He detests making a decision he’s not 100% about, but he suspects this will be a recurring theme in the NFL. As he saw in Pittsburgh, decision makers never get to carry out their dream plan. They have to compromise. This is Phillips’ first compromise. On the bright side, Phillips leverages Harden’s agent into a three-year contract. So if he doesn’t work out, there won’t be much in the way of jettisoning him and trying again with (hopefully) a better market. Knights fans respond positively to the hire when it goes viral. Many Panthers fans are angry Harden was not retained in Carolina. At Harden’s introductory press conference, Schneider is the first to speak. “We’re immensely excited about Merle Harden coordinating our defense. When it’s time to find coaches in the NFL, you have to pray there are guys out there not only capable, but who fit the kind of football you want to play. We feel like we got a real steal in Coach Harden.” Harden staggers through the parking lot and into the Knights’ facility. He’s predictably hungover, with a worse headache than usual. Yesterday’s loss is still difficult to stomach, as any one-point loss would be, but especially so when the loss falls squarely on Harden and his secondary, whose two blown coverages took away a win. He makes his way through the facility, iced coffee in hand. Due to the masculinity surrounding football, Harden has made himself the frequent target of ball busting by always walking around with an iced coffee. But shortly after he made the jump to college, he discovered it to be the best hangover cure he’d ever taken. And it could always be spiced, if the occasion called for it. Between sips of iced coffee Harden realizes something’s not quite right. There are no players today (Monday), but the coaches are not scattered throughout the building, which instead contains an eerie silence. Harden’s six minutes late and the parking lot is full; he’s not the first one here. He finally hears murmurs and follows them to the conference room. He walks in to see the entire coaching staff assembled, including the GM and owner. “Good, he’s here,” one of the assistant coaches says. Harden feels a drip of condensation trickle down his cup. “Take a seat, coach,” Coach Daniel says. “We’ve had an incident with one of our players. One of yours, specifically.” Harden falls into a nearby car and says, “Which one?” “Rose.” Harden isn’t surprised, but he waits for details. “He was at a nightclub last night, along with a few teammates—” “No crime in that,” Harden says, defending his cornerback. “Please, let me finish. Rose ended up in a shouting match with another patron of the club, and the two allegedly exchanged shoves before people got between them.” “Allegedly.” “Police were not called, but this patron, a Knights fan as it turns out, published the events on Twitter, and the media’s taking off with it.” “For the record,” Wayne Schneider interjects, “the other teammates present were Jefferspin-Wilkes, Jerome Jaxson, and Sean Brock.” “Obviously,” Daniel says, “we’re going to collect all the facts first. But if Rose initiated some sort of confrontation with a fan, we have to assign consequences. You all know how I feel about this off-the-field nonsense, and you are on my staff because you share this point-of-view.” Harden’s not sure he does, but he listens as Daniel rambles, gulping his iced coffee to pass the time. Eventually, the coaches get around to scheming for next Sunday’s game against San Diego. The next morning, Malik Rose joins his teammates for practice, but his coaches pull him aside before he can start. None of the three players with him at the nightclub implicates him as the aggressor, so Coach Daniel dismisses any fine/suspension, though he assigns extra work during the week for Rose. He also pens a letter to Commissioner Goodell, saying the Knights will deal with Rose internally for his compromise of integrity, and that the league should refrain from any punitive action. When he gets chances, Coach Harden insists there was nothing wrong with what Rose did and tells him to focus on practice. Harden’s own focus is on the secondary; he runs them through one-on-one drills until they’re physically drained, then runs them through some more. The breakdowns of the Denver game are unacceptable and cannot happen again. Moreover, Harden will not abandon his man coverage defense. If there’s one thing about the game of football he hates, it’s zone coverage. Meanwhile, Wayne Schneider calls Chance Phillips into his office with a sense of what Phillips translates as part urgency, part panic. Phillips takes half a step through the doorway and Schneider starts speaking. “Da’Jamiroquai Jeffer-whatever—I don’t want to mispronounce his name—hasn’t shown for practice yet, has he?” “Not sure, Wayne, I haven’t talked to Daniel yet.” “Well, he won’t. I just got off the phone with an LAPD officer, one of my more useful connections. D-Jam’s been arrested for DUI, six this morning. Somehow it hasn’t hit the news yet.” “Shit.” Phillips takes a seat on the opposite side of Schneider’s desk. “Two player incidents in two days, great. Though Rose hasn’t been proven of anything.” “Indeed. This is worse. Correct me if I’m wrong, Chance, but didn’t we hire Caden partly due to his zero-tolerance policy on this sort of off-the-field bullshit?” “We did, sir.” “Then what the fuck is going on?” “With all due respect, this team has some colorful characters. We can’t reasonably expect Daniel to keep them all in line right away, but we can expect him to assign proper consequences to ensure they don’t happen again.” Schneider presses his hands together. “I’m counting on it.” Five days later, the Knights find themselves in San Diego, not far from home, nursing a 17-12 lead against the AFC West leaders with two minutes to play. The week’s events have made time fly by, including the game itself. Coach Harden’s secondary has suffocated the Chargers’ passing game. Phillip Rivers has taken five sacks, most of them coverage sacks, and while the Knights’ run defense has left plenty to be desired, the Chargers, devoid of big passing plays, have been forced to settle for a handful of Nick Novak field goals. The Chargers face 3rd and 10 from their own forty. Harden calls an inside blitz. Rivers takes the snap from shotgun, and Briggs Randall surges through the offensive line. Rivers assumes the fetal position and falls for a sack. The Qualcomm Stadium crowd whimpers as the Chargers, facing 4th and 16, decide to call timeout and punt, relying on a three-and-out from Los Angeles. A coffin-corner punt places the Knights at their own five, 1:50 to go; San Diego has two timeouts. Coach Daniel makes the easy decision of calling a run play. With Da’Jamiroquai Jefferspin-Wilkes on a one-game suspension, the offense has been relegated to a conservative, run-first style. It hasn’t been incredibly efficient, but they have avoided turnovers and put up enough points here and there to keep the lead. Darren McFadden takes it off-tackle left and gets stuffed at the line of scrimmage. Timeout, San Diego, 1:45 to play. McFadden takes another handoff, gets no blocking, attempts to sweep left, and gets brought down. Timeout, San Diego, 1:39 to play. Daniel contemplates the 3rd and 11 play call. The priority is to wind the clock, and assuming they don’t convert, the Chargers will get the ball back with about 50 seconds left from midfield. Instead of a simple run play, Daniel calls a play they’ve rehearsed in practice over and over, one he feels Jonathan Maverick finally has mastered: play-action rollout. The passing call should catch San Diego off guard, opening up Maverick for a game-clinching pass. The risk, of course, is stopping the clock on an incompletion, but Maverick knows to slide down to run the clock if no one’s open. It requires veteran poise, but Daniel decides it’s time to trust his franchise quarterback with such plays. Maverick takes the snap, fakes the handoff, and rolls right. The Chargers defense bites completely, and Maverick has plenty of grass around him. He spots Zach Miller crossing the field, open, deep enough for a first down. Maverick lofts it to him, but the pass is underthrown and ends up in Shaun Phillips’ hands. The crowd jumps to its feet as Phillips sidesteps one man, jukes Maverick with ease, and runs into the end zone. The Knights sideline is still and silent. The next few minutes go by like the entire week: the Chargers convert the two-point try to take a 20-17 lead, and Maverick has the ball again. Daniel knows he’s rattled, but there’s no alternative. They still have two timeouts and 1:24 to work with needing only a field goal. Maverick takes the snap from shotgun, drops back, and heaves the ball downfield with as much velocity as he can. Alex Johnson tries to track it, but the ball is five strides ahead of him. Eric Weddle catches it at midfield and goes down. As the Chargers end the game from the victory formation, Daniel contemplates the state of his football team. There can be no illusions about a 2-8 record. The playoffs are long gone and no longer the point of concern. He’s comfortable with having another six games to improve the team—and he knows improvements can be made—but he wonders if there will be consequences. The NFL is a tough business that demands one of two things: winning or accountability. The remaining six games are no longer an opportunity to climb back into the playoff race, but a trial to see who gets blamed for this season’s debacle. 10 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Bangy 19 Posted June 21, 2014 Wait a second! Me, Sean and Milehigh on a night out with Cholly? This doesn't sound right . Love the episode Stevo, the pressure on Caden Daniel is real. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
theMileHighGuy 656 Posted June 21, 2014 Nice! Though, these are starting to get depressing Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014 Posted June 21, 2014 At least I won't be blamed for the season. >_> Twist is that someone gets fired/released/traded after this season Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
seanbrock 1,684 Posted June 21, 2014 Definitely your best chapter so far man. I loved it. Really liked getting to know the coaching staff. Merle Harden's character shined through in this one. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Favre4Ever+ 4,476 Posted June 22, 2014 (edited) Pretty awesome. I am ready to move on to coach the Packers... EDIT:That reads wrong, it's more in response to Zack preparing for someones departure. Edited June 22, 2014 by Favre4Ever Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Vin+ 3,121 Posted June 22, 2014 This team is a mess. Great job, as usual, SteVo. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ATL_Predator+ 1,196 Posted June 22, 2014 Why didn't sean, bangy, or mhg throw a punch? Pussies. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
BwareDWare94 723 Posted June 22, 2014 Oh, Merle, you alcoholic dog, you. Great chapter, once again, and there's cohesion even though you've covered so many perspectives. Great job. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Bangy 19 Posted June 23, 2014 Why didn't sean, bangy, or mhg throw a punch? Pussies. There was no need, we were like 'chill he got this' Share this post Link to post Share on other sites