Al Saunders on the Attack
Posted: Thu Sep 07, 2006 6:53 am
One thing Al Saunders has learned in 36 years in the business: Playbooks, like mushrooms, grow best in the dark.
So following Saunders' stunning decision last January to withdraw from several head-coaching vacancies and instead join Joe Gibbs' staff, the Washington Redskins' new associate head coach for offense scurried into a film room at Redskin Park, turned off the lights, and began a painstaking analysis of his new team's plays and its players.
After months of preparation, Saunders harvested the Armillaria Ostoyae - the monster fungi of playbooks - a 700-page tome inspired by his association with renowned offensive innovators John McKay, Johnny Majors, Sid Gillman, Dick Vermeil and, most especially, Don Coryell.
It was the first step of a process vital to the team's hope of making its first Super Bowl appearance in 15 years.
Most likely, the Redskins won't get there unless the offense puts up numbers like those Saunders achieved as Vermeil's offensive coordinator in Kansas City. Starting in 2001, he installed the shifting-and-motion packages Coryell taught him in the 1980s, when the San Diego Chargers were league passing champs seven times. Taking advantage of a superb offensive line and the Pro Bowl talents of tight end Tony Gonzalez, quarterback Trent Green and tailback Priest Holmes, the Chiefs led the NFL the last five seasons by averaging 6,094 yards and 431 points per year.
The Redskins never came close to such proficiency, averaging 4,784 yards and 289 points.
"We aim high; our marker for success is 6,000 yards and 400 points," Saunders said recently, unaware that the Redskins hadn't achieved both in the same season since 1983. That alone helps explain why Gibbs, a fellow Coryell disciple and Hall of Famer, offered Saunders total control of the offense Gibbs himself once ruled, play-calling and all.
Jim Ducibella's picks
Game: Beat the Expert
Redskins channel
More NFL previews
See Thing Your Way.
Latest Videos
Tom Cruise Baby Suri Pictures: HamptonRoads.tv Style
UPDATE: No Charges In MacArthur Mall Evacuation
Crocodile Hunter's Death: Local Expert Talks About Stingrays
First Person: Steve Irwin's Father, 'Best Mate'
Tropical Storm Florence Brewing in Atlantic
Friend: Comair Co-Pilot Able to Speak
See the complete Pilot, exactly as in print
- View stories, photos and ads
- E-mail clippings
- Print copies
Log in or learn more
"I don't think I would have done that with anyone else in the league," said Gibbs, who met Saunders at Southern Cal in 1970 when he coached the offensive line and Saunders was a grad assistant.
"What appealed most was his philosophy. It was Don Coryell and the same coaching tree I came out of. We believe in the same things."
Unlike the lovably quirky Coryell, Saunders isn't some one-dimensional nut obsessively scribbling formations during supper while mom and the kids gab about Driver's Ed class and next month's prom. Sound of mind and body, he holds a Master's degree in Education from Stanford and has run marathons in Boston, Los Angeles and Kansas City.
He's professorial, comparing the design of an offense to choreographing a Broadway musical -- and he doesn't mean 1-2-3, kick. He uses Picasso and Van Gogh to explain offensive philosophies: "They could paint the same thing, but their work would look very different."
Past players laud Saunders, 59, for a unique ability to consistently reap their best performances. He is held in such universal high regard that, had his career taken a different turn, Saunders would be the high school drama teacher whom an Oscar winner thanks in an acceptance speech.
"The thing that's unusual about him is that he tries to figure out how each player responds to learning," former Kansas City receiver Chris Horn said. "He'll see that one guy might not pick up on some things in a meeting room, so he'll make the extra effort to show that guy how it's done on the practice field, and then it all makes sense to him. He takes into account everybody's learning styles."
Shortly before free agency started, Saunders emerged from the darkness. He'd seen enough film to conclude that with last year's talent and the right couple of free agents, he could replicate the success he had in Kansas City. At that point, the playbook contained core formations that any team would run.
"The essence of all of this is to find out what players do best, then put them in position to do it," Saunders said. "Then you get the best skill players you can to allow yourself to be very explosive and to enjoy what you're creating.
"It's like the alphabet. There are only 26 letters, but you can make as many words as you want."
In 35-year-old Mark Brunell, Saunders saw a quarterback comparable to Green: smart enough to adjust to an attack predicated on reading defenses and precision timing. Running back Clinton Portis was an established star, and only a couple hundred yards less productive in '05 than Chiefs tailback Larry Johnson. Tight end Chris
ey was a poor-man's Gonzalez, but was also just reaching his potential. Healthy, the line was more than capable.
The free agents had to be able to get deep, to draw enough attention from linebackers, corners and safeties to give mercurial Santana Moss more man-to-man coverage or make room forey's new, deeper pass routes. Once the defense is spread, Portis' chances of gashing them with breakaway runs would increase dramatically.
The two players Saunders thought offered the best chance to make that happen: San Francisco's Brandon Lloyd and Pittsburgh's Antwaan Randle El. In mid-March, Washington traded for Lloyd and signed Randle El.
"He pushed hard for them," said Bob Saunders, Al's son and a Redskins assistant. "Everyone knows what Brandon can do on the football field, his speed, the acrobatic catches. With Randle El, it's what he can do in the slot, the double moves, his cutting ability. Getting them really expanded the offense."
Throughout offseason workouts and minicamps, Saunders taught the core scheme while experimenting and evaluating new plays. Soon, the 700-page playbook emerged, to rave reviews.
"In the spring, we saw a different offense than before," Brunell said. "It was more explosive. We got the ball down the field. We were more efficient. It's exciting."
Saunders plans to use the whole book, depending on defenses and how much his own players evolve. Through the first two weeks of camp, he hadn't called the same play two days in a row.
"We'll go into a game with 250 to 300," he said. "It's what separates us from a lot of offenses."
Asked by a visitor how it's possible to keep that many plays simple enough for players to process quickly and execute under pressure, Saunders pulls the cap off a felt-tip marker and reaches for a notebook.
"This is about as basic as you can get," he says, smiling, "not giving anything away."
In an instant, the page is loaded with circles, lines and what could pass for a Russian code. Some are mere dashes that slant left, representing offensive linemen. Others, representing receivers, are drawn with sharp angles and dart down and out, down and in. A couple of sweeping strokes are running backs floating into the flat.
Queen Right Jet Right 940 F Corner Swing
"We've just told all 11 players everything they need to know," he says proudly.
Queen Right and Jet Right set the formation and tell the line how to slant its blocks. The 940 is only slightly more complicated. The Redskins label their receivers X, Y, and Z, depending on where they line up. The X receiver listens for the first number, the Y receiver for the second, the Z receiver for the third. Even-numbered routes break in; odd-numbered routes break out; the higher the number, the deeper the pattern. F Swing tells the fullback to run a short corner.
"We don't even have to mention 'H,' " Saunders says, meaning the halfback. "He knows he's always last."
Suddenly, he's drawing again; same play, different words.
Brown Right 2 Jet Flanker Drive
"Bill Walsh's West Coast version," he explains, hoping the visitor will recognize the difference. He doesn't.
"He's told the flanker what to do, but no one else; they have to memorize their routes," Saunders explained. "We tell everybody what to do on every play, yet our verbiage is short and simple."
That simplicity enables Saunders to change formations on every down if he desires. He'll switch from two backs to two tight ends to three receivers to four receivers, hoping to create mismatches. It makes halftime adjustments easier, too. Basic formations stay the same, but overbearing defenses can be compromised just by changing a route number.
Where it gets tricky is that there are virtually no audibles: The quarterback and receivers must read the defense quickly and make pre-assigned adjustments.
At their best, Saunders' offenses never take what the defense gives; they take what they want.
"Sid Gillman and Don Coryell set the standard for aggressive offensive coaches," Saunders said. "They were my mentors. I was like a sponge soaking up information. Don was so creative, so open to new things. When it came to offense, he was a visionary."
He had to be. As coach at San Diego State from 1961-72, Coryell had the thankless task of competing for players with a slew of high-profile programs in California and neighboring states. One of his first tactical decisions was to heavily recruit junior-college players. That's how he came across Gibbs, a tight end from Cerritos College.
But JUCOs often entered school late; some showed up unannounced. They were eligible to play, but there was little time to teach them.
"Coryell figured if a guy could count from 1 to 9, and he knew 9 was a real deep route, and 8s were posts, 4s broke in... he could tell that guy what to do," Saunders said. "They might not run the right distances, but he could get him out there and work on that later in practice. So he'd tell guys, 'Just remember one number, and we'll be fine.' "
It worked so well that in 12 seasons at San Diego State, Coryell went undefeated three times. When he got to the Chargers, the old Aztec offense got a new, glitzier name: "Air Coryell."
Saunders' message today is much the same as Coryell delivered 45 years ago. He wants to play fast-break football, the kind he fell in love with as a kid in California. You'll love it, too, he'll tell you, if you just trust in him.
"We want to set the standard for excellence in the NFL," Saunders said. "We talk to the players about it all the time. If we're running on all cylinders and playing as we can, this system will allow us to set that standard. I'm convinced of that."
So following Saunders' stunning decision last January to withdraw from several head-coaching vacancies and instead join Joe Gibbs' staff, the Washington Redskins' new associate head coach for offense scurried into a film room at Redskin Park, turned off the lights, and began a painstaking analysis of his new team's plays and its players.
After months of preparation, Saunders harvested the Armillaria Ostoyae - the monster fungi of playbooks - a 700-page tome inspired by his association with renowned offensive innovators John McKay, Johnny Majors, Sid Gillman, Dick Vermeil and, most especially, Don Coryell.
It was the first step of a process vital to the team's hope of making its first Super Bowl appearance in 15 years.
Most likely, the Redskins won't get there unless the offense puts up numbers like those Saunders achieved as Vermeil's offensive coordinator in Kansas City. Starting in 2001, he installed the shifting-and-motion packages Coryell taught him in the 1980s, when the San Diego Chargers were league passing champs seven times. Taking advantage of a superb offensive line and the Pro Bowl talents of tight end Tony Gonzalez, quarterback Trent Green and tailback Priest Holmes, the Chiefs led the NFL the last five seasons by averaging 6,094 yards and 431 points per year.
The Redskins never came close to such proficiency, averaging 4,784 yards and 289 points.
"We aim high; our marker for success is 6,000 yards and 400 points," Saunders said recently, unaware that the Redskins hadn't achieved both in the same season since 1983. That alone helps explain why Gibbs, a fellow Coryell disciple and Hall of Famer, offered Saunders total control of the offense Gibbs himself once ruled, play-calling and all.
Jim Ducibella's picks
Game: Beat the Expert
Redskins channel
More NFL previews
See Thing Your Way.
Latest Videos
Tom Cruise Baby Suri Pictures: HamptonRoads.tv Style
UPDATE: No Charges In MacArthur Mall Evacuation
Crocodile Hunter's Death: Local Expert Talks About Stingrays
First Person: Steve Irwin's Father, 'Best Mate'
Tropical Storm Florence Brewing in Atlantic
Friend: Comair Co-Pilot Able to Speak
See the complete Pilot, exactly as in print
- View stories, photos and ads
- E-mail clippings
- Print copies
Log in or learn more
"I don't think I would have done that with anyone else in the league," said Gibbs, who met Saunders at Southern Cal in 1970 when he coached the offensive line and Saunders was a grad assistant.
"What appealed most was his philosophy. It was Don Coryell and the same coaching tree I came out of. We believe in the same things."
Unlike the lovably quirky Coryell, Saunders isn't some one-dimensional nut obsessively scribbling formations during supper while mom and the kids gab about Driver's Ed class and next month's prom. Sound of mind and body, he holds a Master's degree in Education from Stanford and has run marathons in Boston, Los Angeles and Kansas City.
He's professorial, comparing the design of an offense to choreographing a Broadway musical -- and he doesn't mean 1-2-3, kick. He uses Picasso and Van Gogh to explain offensive philosophies: "They could paint the same thing, but their work would look very different."
Past players laud Saunders, 59, for a unique ability to consistently reap their best performances. He is held in such universal high regard that, had his career taken a different turn, Saunders would be the high school drama teacher whom an Oscar winner thanks in an acceptance speech.
"The thing that's unusual about him is that he tries to figure out how each player responds to learning," former Kansas City receiver Chris Horn said. "He'll see that one guy might not pick up on some things in a meeting room, so he'll make the extra effort to show that guy how it's done on the practice field, and then it all makes sense to him. He takes into account everybody's learning styles."
Shortly before free agency started, Saunders emerged from the darkness. He'd seen enough film to conclude that with last year's talent and the right couple of free agents, he could replicate the success he had in Kansas City. At that point, the playbook contained core formations that any team would run.
"The essence of all of this is to find out what players do best, then put them in position to do it," Saunders said. "Then you get the best skill players you can to allow yourself to be very explosive and to enjoy what you're creating.
"It's like the alphabet. There are only 26 letters, but you can make as many words as you want."
In 35-year-old Mark Brunell, Saunders saw a quarterback comparable to Green: smart enough to adjust to an attack predicated on reading defenses and precision timing. Running back Clinton Portis was an established star, and only a couple hundred yards less productive in '05 than Chiefs tailback Larry Johnson. Tight end Chris
ey was a poor-man's Gonzalez, but was also just reaching his potential. Healthy, the line was more than capable.
The free agents had to be able to get deep, to draw enough attention from linebackers, corners and safeties to give mercurial Santana Moss more man-to-man coverage or make room for
ey's new, deeper pass routes. Once the defense is spread, Portis' chances of gashing them with breakaway runs would increase dramatically.
The two players Saunders thought offered the best chance to make that happen: San Francisco's Brandon Lloyd and Pittsburgh's Antwaan Randle El. In mid-March, Washington traded for Lloyd and signed Randle El.
"He pushed hard for them," said Bob Saunders, Al's son and a Redskins assistant. "Everyone knows what Brandon can do on the football field, his speed, the acrobatic catches. With Randle El, it's what he can do in the slot, the double moves, his cutting ability. Getting them really expanded the offense."
Throughout offseason workouts and minicamps, Saunders taught the core scheme while experimenting and evaluating new plays. Soon, the 700-page playbook emerged, to rave reviews.
"In the spring, we saw a different offense than before," Brunell said. "It was more explosive. We got the ball down the field. We were more efficient. It's exciting."
Saunders plans to use the whole book, depending on defenses and how much his own players evolve. Through the first two weeks of camp, he hadn't called the same play two days in a row.
"We'll go into a game with 250 to 300," he said. "It's what separates us from a lot of offenses."
Asked by a visitor how it's possible to keep that many plays simple enough for players to process quickly and execute under pressure, Saunders pulls the cap off a felt-tip marker and reaches for a notebook.
"This is about as basic as you can get," he says, smiling, "not giving anything away."
In an instant, the page is loaded with circles, lines and what could pass for a Russian code. Some are mere dashes that slant left, representing offensive linemen. Others, representing receivers, are drawn with sharp angles and dart down and out, down and in. A couple of sweeping strokes are running backs floating into the flat.
Queen Right Jet Right 940 F Corner Swing
"We've just told all 11 players everything they need to know," he says proudly.
Queen Right and Jet Right set the formation and tell the line how to slant its blocks. The 940 is only slightly more complicated. The Redskins label their receivers X, Y, and Z, depending on where they line up. The X receiver listens for the first number, the Y receiver for the second, the Z receiver for the third. Even-numbered routes break in; odd-numbered routes break out; the higher the number, the deeper the pattern. F Swing tells the fullback to run a short corner.
"We don't even have to mention 'H,' " Saunders says, meaning the halfback. "He knows he's always last."
Suddenly, he's drawing again; same play, different words.
Brown Right 2 Jet Flanker Drive
"Bill Walsh's West Coast version," he explains, hoping the visitor will recognize the difference. He doesn't.
"He's told the flanker what to do, but no one else; they have to memorize their routes," Saunders explained. "We tell everybody what to do on every play, yet our verbiage is short and simple."
That simplicity enables Saunders to change formations on every down if he desires. He'll switch from two backs to two tight ends to three receivers to four receivers, hoping to create mismatches. It makes halftime adjustments easier, too. Basic formations stay the same, but overbearing defenses can be compromised just by changing a route number.
Where it gets tricky is that there are virtually no audibles: The quarterback and receivers must read the defense quickly and make pre-assigned adjustments.
At their best, Saunders' offenses never take what the defense gives; they take what they want.
"Sid Gillman and Don Coryell set the standard for aggressive offensive coaches," Saunders said. "They were my mentors. I was like a sponge soaking up information. Don was so creative, so open to new things. When it came to offense, he was a visionary."
He had to be. As coach at San Diego State from 1961-72, Coryell had the thankless task of competing for players with a slew of high-profile programs in California and neighboring states. One of his first tactical decisions was to heavily recruit junior-college players. That's how he came across Gibbs, a tight end from Cerritos College.
But JUCOs often entered school late; some showed up unannounced. They were eligible to play, but there was little time to teach them.
"Coryell figured if a guy could count from 1 to 9, and he knew 9 was a real deep route, and 8s were posts, 4s broke in... he could tell that guy what to do," Saunders said. "They might not run the right distances, but he could get him out there and work on that later in practice. So he'd tell guys, 'Just remember one number, and we'll be fine.' "
It worked so well that in 12 seasons at San Diego State, Coryell went undefeated three times. When he got to the Chargers, the old Aztec offense got a new, glitzier name: "Air Coryell."
Saunders' message today is much the same as Coryell delivered 45 years ago. He wants to play fast-break football, the kind he fell in love with as a kid in California. You'll love it, too, he'll tell you, if you just trust in him.
"We want to set the standard for excellence in the NFL," Saunders said. "We talk to the players about it all the time. If we're running on all cylinders and playing as we can, this system will allow us to set that standard. I'm convinced of that."
