Super Bowl Recap: Offense

Deebo doing Deebo things [Scott Strazzante / The Chronicle]

In many ways, our offense in the Super Bowl was reminiscent of our offense throughout the season: a dominant run game, massive misdirection springing big plays, explosive scoring drives that made us look unstoppable, and a methodical underneath passing game.

However, the pass protection issues that we’d seen glimpses of throughout the year gave way to the Chiefs’ late blitzes, and that — in conjunction with a few plays that I’m sure Jimmy G would have liked to have back — led to that underneath passing game stalling out at the worst possible time. And with it, went our offense.

Since then, there’s been a lot of finger pointing, but — just like on defense — it was a combination of many little things that led to our undoing.

Edge Play. As expected, we gashed the Chiefs’ defense on the ground, proving we were simply too fast to the edge for them to stop. Even when the Chiefs did a good job of stringing our stretch plays out past the numbers, we’d still find ways to cut up field and plug for 4-6 yard gains with regularity. And when the defense really started to over pursue, we punished them regularly with end arounds to Deebo.

Eliminating Jimmy G’s single scramble and his kneel to end the first half, we racked up 139 yards on a whopping 6.95 yards per carry. And while you can say some of that is skewed based on Deebo’s 3 carries for 53 yards (17.7 ypc), both Mostert and Coleman averaged over 4.6 ypc on the day with matching long runs of 17 yards. We were explosive but we were also consistent.

The one place where our running game struggled was with our gap runs, which we didn’t turn to often. Now part of that dip in production could be attributed to the fact that we didn’t go to these runs until later in the game (when the Chiefs were down and selling out against the run), but a number of our gap runs involved someone losing their 1-on-1 matchup and a stop for little gain. And that lack of an interior counter punch hurt us in the late game.

Matchups in man. Also, as expected, the Chiefs’ linebackers and safeties got routinely abused by our backs and tight ends in man coverage. Their linebackers got repeatedly worked by our backfield, with Niemann getting beat by everyone from Juice down the field to Jeff Wilson on angle routes. “Dirty Dan” Sorensen gave up A LOT of yardage. While it never seemed like he fully blew an assignment, he was always a step slow or out of position, whether it was guarding Kittle down the field on a “push off,” guarding a slot receiver, or marking up Juice on play actions.

The work with Juice was particularly impressive, with Shanahan dialing up inside play action passes off of cross blocking action, hitting the Chiefs in the alleys when they were expecting a full bootleg look, and making Kansas City’s second-level box defenders continually wrong in regards to run vs. pass.

Eventually — whether it was because of how ineffective the linebackers were in coverage or simply as a means to generate pressure — Steve Spagnuolo started sending them on blitzes, rushing 5 or 6 on seemingly every down late in the game. To his credit, this strategy worked well. Although it wasn’t what I would call a full strategic victory as it left a number of people wide open.

We’ll get to that later.

YPA. As is almost always the case, we were the superior team in terms of yards per play (6.5 to the Chiefs’ 5.3) but wound up with 21 fewer offensive plays than Kansas City. That 6.5 ypp mark is excellent and would have been good enough for tops in the NFL across a full season. And that’s including our inefficient and ineffective last few offensive drives. So, theoretically, when you look at that offensive output, you’d think we’d have been able to get more than 20 points and a victory.

But this wasn’t the first time we’d dominated YPP yet found ourselves in close games. We out-gained the Ravens by 50 yards at a 6.4 YPP to 4.6 clip but lost on a last second field goal. The week after, we out-gained the Saints by 50 yards at an absurd 8.2 YPP (to the Saints’ also great 6.8 YPP), but would have lost if not for some George Kittle fourth down heroics. And in week 17 against the Seahawks we (yet again) out-gained our opponent by 50 yards on an absolutely ludicrous 8.3 YPP (to the Seahawks’ 4.9) but needed a goal line stop to preserve the win.

We somehow averaged three and a half more yards PER PLAY but still almost lost.

Game Flow. I talked about this a little after the last Seahawks game, when I pinpointed game flow as the single biggest reason why Seattle was in every game late despite a point differential that pointed to more of a .500 team, but that wasn’t a very lengthy nor in-depth discussion…

And this won’t be either. I’ll have to look more at film to try and break everything down (game flow is a LOT of things, some of which are luck), and will try and include a better analysis of the factors that make up a game flow advantage when I look at our ability to close games later this spring, BUT — despite our dominance — it did seem like we were typically on the wrong side of game flow this year.

That disadvantage can’t be attributed to turnovers, as all four of the games referenced above ended with a turnover margin of 0. It can’t be attributed to poor passing performances as Jimmy G was near-perfect against the Saints and the Seahawks, including in both fourth quarters. Nor can it be attributed to poor rushing performances as we averaged 151 yards rushing across those games.

I have some theories as to why we sometimes struggle with game flow, but I’ll wait until I do the necessary research to share any of them. But for now, know that it’s probably a thing. How big a thing? And how much should we worry about it moving forward? That remains to be seen.

Mathieu and Clark: Both talked some shit after the game but neither did much in this contest. Clark had a sack on the fourth-and-long following the overthrow to Sanders, but that was his only stat of the game (other than another QB hit that happened on the next drive when the game was already over). The idea that he “finished” the past three games with a sack is a cute tidbit — albeit not an accurate one — but each of those games were with double digit leads and teams desperately trying to claw back. He was a non-factor otherwise.

Meanwhile Mathieu totaled six tackles but was largely nullified by Shanahan’s game planning and even — at times — targeted in man coverage. His versatility and instincts make him an integral part of this Chiefs defense, but the many Swiss army knife weapons we had at our disposal proved troublesome for him at times.

With the remaining players on the defense largely replacement-level talent, Mathieu and Clark’s quiet games meant that the only way this defense was going to perform was from role players stepping up. And/or from a monster game by Chris Jones.

Which… well…

Chris Jones: While Mahomes took home the MVP, in a world where Super Bowl MVP voting was even remotely accurate, there’s an argument that Jones should have been given the award instead. Because despite recording only a single assisted tackle on the stat sheet, I think we drop 40 on this Chiefs team without him.

First off, the attention the Niners had to give him allowed the Chiefs to have success elsewhere in their pass rush. There were many instances where a double team on Jones let another defensive lineman win one-on-one somewhere else, or — more noticeably — where the attention Jones got allowed the Chiefs to dial up the delayed linebacker blitzes that were so effective late in the game.

When Jones did get one-on-one looks, he mostly succeeded, blowing by Person in the second quarter to get a hand on Garoppolo and force him into the hands of Mike Pennel (who also played a good game). This pressure would result in Jimmy G’s ugly pick to Breeland and a major momentum swing.

Yet even when Jones wasn’t getting home with his rush, he was still disrupting our passing game with three batted balls, all in the back half of the fourth quarter, all on big-time plays (which we will, unfortunately, get to later).

While not as splashy or incredibly obvious as the dominant showings that Aaron Donald and Grady Jarrett had against us, Jones’ and Pennel’s performances against our interior line were an unfortunate reminder of the worries that we had from that position group entering the post-season. And the reason why that’s an area where we could see some additions this off-season.

Shanahan’s Aggressiveness. Much of the talk after the game has been about Shanahan’s aggressiveness or lack thereof, and how that “lost us the Super Bowl.” The primary two critiques are:

(1) That he was too conservative at the end of the second quarter and should have called a timeout to give the offense another shot at points

(2) That he was too aggressive at the end of the game and should have ran the ball more.

So let’s break down both critiques, piece by agonizing piece.

Argument #1: Shanahan was too conservative.

Re: that weird end-of-half sequence of events, I would have liked to see Shanahan call a timeout and give our offense the time to see what we could do. But it appears there were plenty of people around the league who agreed with (or at least understood) Shanahan’s decision to let the clock run.

Per Mike Sando from The Athletic:

“People will kill Kyle for the end of the half, but if he takes the timeout and then Kansas City downs the punt deep, then Mahomes is getting the ball at midfield with around 50 seconds left in the half,” another coach said. “He played it safe. We would be killing him if he calls the timeout and Kansas City downs the punt.”

The Chiefs should have downed the punt inside the 5, but they did not play the ball very well, allowing it to bounce into the end zone for a touchback. About seven percent of punts from that general area of the field pin the opponent inside his own 5. About 30 percent pin the opponent within his own 10.

Based on those percentages I’d agree that — based on field position — it was a harder decision than many people thought. But I’d still call the timeout and take the shot.

I know Shanahan has leaned more heavily on his defense this season than in years past because of how strong it’s been, but I think — in this situation in particular and against this offense in particular — we should be playing to maximize scoring opportunities. Which means never giving up a possession.

Yes, you get the ball at the half and it’s currently a tie game. Yes, you know that — unlike the Chiefs — you don’t really have the capability to just drop back and huck it all over the field. But, based on the Chiefs’ ability to get red hot on offense at any moment, I don’t think you can throw away any chance to potentially score points. Regardless of the score.

So with that in mind, I do think the Niners should have called a timeout before the punt. And even if they didn’t take a timeout then, then after the punt was a touchback and they knew their field position, they should have used the timeouts as they attempted to drive down the field.

I also think that — in following with the mindset of maximizing each possession — the Niners should have at least played with the idea of four down territory once they got inside the Chiefs’ 30 on the opening drive of the second half. That doesn’t mean they had to go for it instead of kick the field goal, but I think if they’d opened themselves up a bit more to the idea that they could go for it, this game could have been put out of reach.

While I like to poke fun at the NFL’s newfound obsession with analytics and the belief that you can succeed with a Dave Roberts-like football coach who is a puppet of percentage points and statistical charts, I do agree with the movement on certain things. And one of those things is going for it more often. Especially given the strengths (and weaknesses) of our offense.

But this email is long enough and the next section is about to be gigantic, so I’ll save that discussion for a later time.

Argument #2: Shanahan was too aggressive

Okaaaaaay. So if the going argument is that Shanahan should have ran the ball more and — if he did — the Niners would have won, let’s put that to the test. Here’s every single play call from the 49ers’ offense after picking off the Chiefs with 11:57 left in the fourth quarter while up 20-10.

At this point, our goal is to put the nail in the coffin. The worst possible outcome is a short drive that does nothing in terms of yardage, but we’re also 12 minutes out from the end of the game, so there’s far too much time left on the clock to think about milking it.

1-and-10, SF 20: Mostert power lead for 6 yards. Nice.

2-and-4, SF 26: Pass to George Kittle for 12 yards. Play action stretch with an end around look over the top opens up the middle for Kittle.

1-and-10, SF 38: Mostert power lead for 1 yard. On this play, this was the Chiefs’ defensive front.

A six man front with — Including the press CBs — eight defenders at the line of scrimmage. Plus an additional two in the box and a free safety creeping down. Coming out in this front is tantamount to saying “we know you want to run so we’re going to bet you continue running, even though we’re lining up in a front that makes running nearly impossible.”

The Chiefs are selling out to stop the run and, after Garland whiffs on Jones and Sanders can’t dig out Sorensen on a crack block, we get stopped for one yard.

2nd-and-9, SF 39: Incomplete pass to Deebo. Could we have run the ball here, especially since they had softened up the box? Sure. Shanahan may have even called a run, but — as pointed out by Bill Barnwell…

Second-and-9 in the fourth quarter. Garoppolo checks to a pass versus a KC blitz. Pressure from Hitchens forces him to sail the throw. Swing pass was wide-open but not sure if that was hot. pic.twitter.com/tj5zrIJapH

— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) February 3, 2020

Two guys open but Jimmy doesn’t deliver the ball while under intense pressure.

3rd-and-9, SF 39: False start on Joe Staley. For a Super Bowl, it was oddly loud in that stadium. At different times, both teams had to use a silent count. This contributed to a few false start issues late, including on the next play…

3rd-and-14, SF 34: Jimmy G scrambles for 3 yards. On this play, the refs missed a clear offsides, but they also missed it due to what was a less clear potential false start, so… whatever? I guess?

The Chiefs score on the next drive. Now it’s 20-17 with 6:06 left in the fourth.

1st-and-10, SF 20: Mostert stretch for 5 yards. Nice.

2nd-and-5, SF 25: Incomplete pass to Kittle. Batted at the LOS by Chris Jones.

When asked after the game, Shanahan said that up three with ~6 minutes left in the game, you are not in clock killing mode, you are in first down getting and potentially scoring mode. Which I agree with. Yet this is the play that people have critiqued the most heavily. We just got good yardage on the ground. Why not go to the ground again on second down?

Let’s look at the Chiefs’ alignment first.

As you can see, the Chiefs have six men on the LOS and two more in the box. It’s quite similar to the defensive front they showed just last drive when they stuffed our power lead. They also have Sorensen and an extended CB playing the edge opposite Mostert, giving them numbers to that side.

So Shanahan dials up a play action pass.

Deebo goes across formation then back to the twins receivers in orbit motion as a coverage indicator. He’ll swing out wide on the snap, while both Kittle and Juice will fake a stalk block like it’s a run play then try and settle around the sticks in the vacated space of the linebackers when they bite on the fake.

The play opens up perfectly. Even more so because the Chiefs send one of their linebackers as a blitzer while the other crosses formation to lock up a blocking Mostert in man. But Suggs, who was lined up as a DE, drops into coverage to undercut Kittle. Obviously this isn’t going to work, but it does stall Jimmy’s release just enough so that…

Jones can bat the ball down at the line of scrimmage. This is a screenshot from the exact moment Jones hit the ball. Look how open Kittle is. That’s at least a ten yard gain and a first down. Based on the space in front of him that’s probably at least 20 yards. And based on the overall size/athleticism advantage Kittle has on the two guys down the field, it could have been much much more than that.

This is a high percentage play action pass to the side of the formation with a potential numbers advantage. It also has a built in check down in case of pressure. And it opens up perfectly if not for a batted ball at the line of scrimmage.

Against an eight man box, it’s hard to say that play call wasn’t the right one.

3rd-and-5, SF 25: Incomplete pass to Kendrick Bourne.

Based on down and distance we need to throw here, and we assume the Chiefs will be locked in on Kittle (especially since he just ran free the play before). But, against man coverage and two blitzing linebackers, Shanahan frees up Kittle AGAIN. In almost the exact same spot as the play before.

I’ve put Kittle’s path in pink here just so it’s a bit easier to see.

They motion him from the bottom of the frame to the opposite side of the formation into a bunch trips alignment. Mathieu follows him, showing that it’s man coverage (unsurprisingly, their top DB is on our top wideout on third down). The bunch alignment and route combinations are made to clear out space and create two natural rubs for Kittle and/or to force a switch between Mathieu and the cornerback on Bourne.

On the snap, that switch occurs. The corner takes Kittle while Mathieu takes Bourne, and Jimmy — perhaps seeing the leverage Bourne naturally has on a comeback route versus a high and inside Mathieu — locks onto his receiver. Which is unfortunate because…

Kittle is wide open. Like wide wide wide open. And if the last play would have been at least a 10 yard gain, Kittle catching this one on the run is at LEAST 30 yards. Honestly — given the fact that every single defender is turned away from him except one that’s already been dusted and another who is gonna have to tackle Kittle in the open field after he gets a twenty yard head start — a touchdown is the most likely outcome.

Instead, Garoppolo never comes off of Bourne, throwing an incomplete as Niemann delivers a helmet-to-helmet hit that isn’t called (because why would you call roughing the passer on third down). The Niners have to punt on the next play.

The Chiefs score on the next drive. Now it’s 24-20 Chiefs with 2:39 left in the game.

1st-and-10, SF 15: Mostert gun stretch RPO for 17 yards. Fuck yeah.

1st-and-10, SF 32: False start on Emmanuel Sanders. The called play was a run. Shanahan is clearly trying to get runs in here before the two minute warning.

1st-and-15, SF 27: Pass complete to Kittle for 8 yards. Simple quick out on loose coverage.

Two Minute Warning

2nd-and-7, SF 35: Pass complete to Bourne for 16 yards. On a play that is sniffed out relatively well, Bourne and Jimmy G show some nice improvisational skills, with Jimmy tossing the ball high over a linebacker who has lost track of Bourne, and the receiver not only securing the pass but getting out of bounds.

1st-and-10, KC 49: Incomplete pass to Deebo. Batted at the LOS by Chris Jones. Goddamn you Chris Jones. Deebo had shook his corner but — even with his incredible ability in the open field — it only would have been a modest gain underneath, even if it was completed.

2nd-and-10, KC 49: Incomplete pass to Bourne. Also tipped by Chris Jones, this ball was an intended slant that the safety jumped and batted down. While it certainly could have been an interception, it would have been a very tough one as the safety dove horizontally to bat it down.

3rd-and-10, KC 49: Incomplete pass to Sanders. This was ultimately the ball game and was actually a brilliant concept that Shanahan dialed up to attack the very coverage that he knew Spagnuolo would use.

Per Ted Nguyen of The Athletic:

On third-and-10, Spagnuolo once again called for two double-teams. With Kittle in the backfield, the Chiefs doubled Samuel and Sanders. They called a “cut” on Sanders, which meant the inside defender played shallow and the outside defender played deep. Shanahan seemed to know that this is how the Chiefs would line up because he called the perfect play to beat this coverage — he had Sanders run a deep post. With the insider defender playing shallow, Sanders had the speed to get on top of him and run away from the outside defender.

With the only deep defender playing outside of Sanders, he got wide open in the middle of the field.

However, Garoppolo overthrew him by nearly 5 yards. This throw isn’t easy but with how much separation Sanders created, if the ball was thrown anywhere near him he would have had a great chance at bringing the pass in or drawing a defensive pass interference.

There’s two things I’d add to that breakdown. (1) Sanders was much more open than that picture indicated, as he had multiple steps on both defenders before he slowed up at the last second realizing that he couldn’t run under that ball. (2) Jimmy G also had the option of going to Bourne on the dig route for a sure first down (he is very open; as you can see in the first image above).

I don’t hate the shot that Jimmy took. When you get a receiver with that kind of separation on a potential Super Bowl game-winner, you generally take it.

But alas, Jimmy G couldn’t make the throw. So what could have been an easy pitch and catch to Bourne for the first down or an epic touchdown bomb to Sanders became a fourth-and-long. And the game was pretty much over at that point.

The next play the Niners would keep seven guys back to block, running three wideouts into five DBs in deep coverage. And while Kittle would eventually open up on a delayed release underneath, Jimmy G never saw him, as he was already sliding into what would end up a game-ending sack.

The idea that Shanahan “blew another Super Bowl in the fourth quarter cause he can’t hold a lead” was always going to be too easy and too clean of a narrative for the nonsensical talking heads to avoid. They had to jump on it. It lets them yell things with angry expressions on their faces while repeating whatever their equivalent of “I told you so” is until people stop paying attention. Which, unfortunately, they don’t.

And while it is totally understandable to have felt that way about Shanahan in the rage of the hours following the Super Bowl, a closer look at the film paints a much different narrative.

TLDR; in the fourth quarter, Shanahan called a better game than most people thought. Jimmy G played worse than most people thought. And the Chiefs’ blitzes — despite successfully pressuring Garoppolo — left a lot of dudes open. But just like how our defense faltered due to a few bad breaks (or bad calls, cough cough), it was the few missed receivers that lost us the game on offense.

It’s certainly plausible that if a single one of those turning point plays on offense or defense goes our way, the Niners are coming home with their sixth Lombardi Trophy.

So yeah, that sucks.

But while losing in the Super Bowl is a bummer, it’s important to keep a few things in perspective.

The Niners have the 11th-youngest team in the league, with their average age of 25.7 only half a year older than the first place Dolphins. We only have five starters (including our kicker) over the age of 28.

Jimmy Garoppolo has 26 career regular season starts. In the past twenty years, Super Bowl winning quarterbacks have an average of 100 starts. And during that time, only three have won with fewer starts than Garoppolo: Ben Roethlisberger (25), Kurt Warner (16), and Tom Brady (14). Three Hall of Famers.

Garoppolo didn’t play well at the end of the game, but he’d been slicing and dicing through the second and third quarters after he threw that pick. He’ll get better.

Kyle Shanahan just turned 40 and is in his third season as a head coach. In the past twenty years, the average Super Bowl-winning coach is 56 years old with 10 years of experience. He’ll get better too.

There are only two coaches younger than 40 to ever win a Super Bowl, and in the three years before they were hired, their franchises had a combined five playoff appearances, one Super Bowl championship, and a 67% winning percentage. In the three years before Shanahan, the Niners’ winning percentage was less than half of that (31.3%).

Three years ago, Chip Kelly was running zone reads with Blaine Gabbert, Jeremy Kerley was our leading receiver, and we had (quite literally) one of the worst rushing defenses of all-time. What our staff and players have been able to accomplish since then has been nothing short of remarkable. Now the Niners are contenders again, and they did it a year ahead of even the most optimistic of projections. The leadership and the talent is in place for a sustained run.

And hopefully, another Super Bowl next year. This one with a better outcome.

Go Niners 👍🏈

Super Bowl Recap: Defense

Lot of this. Coulda used more. [Scott Strazzante]

This is your regularly scheduled reminder not to trust the media.

As predicted, a series of hot takes have been flooding in since the Super Bowl ended, and -- given the end result -- their headlines and narratives have been just as predictable and off-base as you could expect. In general, football is hard to tackle for your standard sports journalist, largely because said journalists crave a five word description that can sum up the entirety of a 60 minute game of 11-on-11 that requires the active regular involvement of 30+ players per team, a dozen coaches per side, and a never-ending series of nuanced complex schematic decisions. The local writers are the ones who typically know their shit the most cause they're in it all year and are more team and sport specific. But on a national scale? You've got some Bill Barnwells and people on The Athletic -- sports people who actually know what they're talking about -- but in general, football journalism has become a lot like every other form of journalism. Articles built backwards from their trend-worthy titles. Click-bait prorated into a few hundred words. Empty calories.

And if John F. Bachelors Degree in English with a minor in French postmodern literature from Emerson College (Class of 2011) is fine with setting that bar, what do you think @FortWhiners69 and @RIPNateDogg510 have to say about it? Please, by all means, let's turn to @KansasCityQueefs and @TylerThigpenEra2008, because they really have some outstanding football analysis when they're not trying to sell me dope discount Ray-Bans at one tenth market price as long as I buy now. 

All this to say, everyone has their opinions. But when those opinions are simply misstatements of the facts — which in itself is a much larger problem that is much more damaging to realms much more important than football — they probably qualify a bit more as bullshit than they do as opinions. So don’t feel bad if you shut them down. Because people being wrong who are adamant that they're right is the backbone of the most dangerous of breed: the unreasonably confident incompetents. And those are the guys who really mess things up for everyone. Or, you know, go on to ref the Super Bowl after blowing the Saints-Rams game last year.

I'm not salty. You're salty.

Alright, let's get to the recap. Defense first.

DEFENSE

According to script… until it wasn’t. As expected, we ran more two-high looks, gave the Chiefs lighter boxes to dare them to run, mixed up our coverages, and leaned on our overall team speed and disruptive DL. For the first three and a half quarters, it worked. Then, it didn’t. We’ll try and unpack why later.

Zebras (usually) have excellent eyesight. I already wrote up plenty about the officiating in this game. It’s almost impossible not to mention it when discussing some of the crucial plays in this game because so many of those plays were directly affected by the refs. But I will try to keep that discussion to a minimum.

Dudes playing like dudes. Our top dudes along the defensive line continued their dominant stretch, controlling the line of scrimmage and pressuring Mahomes into an inconsistent performance and some uncharacteristic mistakes. But none were more disruptive than Nick Bosa, our would-have-been MVP had we won this game.

Bosa dominated from the jump, punking Eric Fisher on the very first pass play of the game and tallying 12 pressures and 10 QB hurries in the contest. He was an unstoppable force for the first three quarters of the game and — while our pressure as a whole slowed down some in the fourth — could have (likely would have) put the cherry on the top of an MVP performance had he not been blatantly held after beating his man on the third-and-15 conversion to Tyreek Hill.

Bosa was so dominant that his impact on the Chiefs’ play-calling became obvious in a hurry. Case in point: Mahomes’ first pick of the game.

Patrick, that's a linebacker, don't throw it to him!pic.twitter.com/MEPEFxhPR0

— PFF (@PFF) February 3, 2020

Not only did they roll the pocket away from Bosa, splitting their field in half, but they still dedicated THREE GUYS to blocking him.

Dude is an absolute force.

Other guys played like… well… While on paper this really didn’t seem like the game that we’d miss our pluggers in the middle (DJ Jones and Jullian Taylor), our lack of girth was apparent against the run. Against the Vikings and Packers we could get away with focusing on the run, knowing that they needed their run games to slow down our DL and set up their passing attacks. But against the Chiefs, we (reasonably) leaned more on two-high sets to stop the pass, which put more pressure on our front six to execute and win their one-on-one matchups.

For the most part our edge players delivered, but our non-DeFo tackles proved a weak spot en route to an 18 carry 104-yard rushing performance by the Chiefs’ tailbacks. Our subpar play on the interior was evident in PFF’s grades for the game (Day - 46.6, Thomas - 33.8, Mitchell - 29.3). There were just a few too many plays like the one below (featuring Thomas and Day):

I know they were dealing with double teams, but you just can’t allow that kind of push and expect to have a strong showing against the run. And while the Chiefs’ yards-per-carry was only an “okay” 3.8 when you take out the long run after the game was over, our play on the interior allowed the Chiefs to chip away for a lot of small consistent gains on the interior. And in a game as close as this one, those little gains can add up.

Option game. Reid dialed up a number of different ways to attack our edges with the speed option game (like on the game’s first play from scrimmage), namely by pressuring the solo side of trips formations to ensure he could outflank us. It wasn’t a gamebreaking development, but it worked enough times on crucial downs to be worth mentioning. Reid knew he had to keep some semblance of balance to attack our defense, so he did so by stealing a gap with the option game.

Due to this and the above mentioned issues on the interior, the Chiefs did just enough to get some first downs on the ground and keep us honest. Which was likely their entire goal of the running game in this game.

Having boundary issues. While Sherman and Moseley played outstanding this year, both of them struggled in this one. Moseley was at least partly complicit in two of the Chiefs’ big completions over 20 yards and Sherman really struggled in man coverage, allowing more yards in this game than he had in any other game this season.

The speed of the Chiefs receivers really got to him, including on the deep shot to Sammy Watkins where he got beat on an outside-in fake at the LOS and on the long third down on the Chiefs’ very first scoring drive, where Sherman’s slip on the press of Mecole Hardman created a domino effect that pulled Tartt off his robber/spy duties to pick up the rookie, and which — in part — allowed Mahomes the open lane to scramble for a fourth-and-one. The next play they would convert with that old Michigan play that people won’t stop talking about. They’d score a touchdown three plays later.

Kwon. I’m not gonna be too hard on a guy who came back crazy early from a torn pec because he wanted to help his teammates in the playoffs, but he did not play well at all. He had a handful of bad missed tackles, wasn’t particularly sharp or confident in coverage while giving up a handful of receptions, and stood out for all the wrong reasons. This despite playing less than a quarter of the defensive snaps. According to PFF, his 24.6 grade was the worst of any player on the Niners roster.

Masters of Disguise. We did a great job of disguising our coverages for the majority of the game. messing with Mahomes’ pre-snap reads just enough so that our pass rush could flush him into a bad or ill-timed throw. Take this first down in the third quarter, deep in our territory:

We’re in a single-high look with Moseley squared up on Sammy Watkins at the top of the screen. So it looks like (at least on Moseley’s side) some kind of man coverage.

After sending Tyreek Hill in orbit motion — both as a coverage indicator and as a means to work their four man flood concept — the Chiefs see K’Waun Williams follow him across formation, doubling down on the idea that we’re in man.

On the snap, Mahomes is expecting he’ll get a natural rub from his two vertical routes coming out of the backfield, opening up Watkins on the slant. But despite our nickelback following Hill across the formation, the Niners aren’t actually in man. They’re in a three deep zone.

By the time Mahomes has completed his play fake and looked up, our boundary corners have taken the deep routes, Warner has moved off his low wall and is now double teaming the seam route with K’Waun, and Greenlaw is working to high wall Watkins, who has adjusted his slant to a deep settle route upon reading zone coverage.

Meanwhile, with Kelce going across formation behind the LOS, Tartt can play a full “Robber” role, looking to undercut anything underneath and inside and keeping his eyes on Mahomes as a spy in case he scrambles.

The result? A confused pre-snap read, no one open, and a DeFo sack.

Well, after he was blatantly held that is.

Because last time I checked “wrapping your hands around a defender’s waist while you grab them from behind like you’re taking photos at prom” is not a legal blocking technique. Except for, apparently, in this game.

Alright, I’ll stop.

…

No I won’t. Call a fucking hold.

War of attrition. But… there’s only so many sound coverage combinations you can show someone, and when you give a talented passer and play caller too many shots, they’re likely gonna start figuring it out and hit some. Particularly when someone makes a mistake. Like on the third-and-15 conversion in the fourth quarter that everyone and their mom is having a boner over (yes that’s right, their moms have boners).

Here’s how that play unfolded, courtesy of Ted Nguyen at The Athletic.

In the Super Bowl, the 49ers played Cover 3 Buzz. In Cover 3 Buzz, the linebacker will run with the No. 2 receiver vertical for a distance, but it is the corner’s or free safety’s responsibility to take him deep.

Hill lined up as the No. 2 receiver and tight end Travis Kelce lined up as the No. 3 receiver. Kelce ran a deep crosser and Hill ran right at Ward on what looked like a seam. The play was designed to look like verticals, initially.

However, instead of a fade, Watkins ran a dig on the outside. Cornerback Emmanuel Moseley, who was supposed to stay in his deep third, made the fatal mistake of following Watkins. Ward’s job is to defend the middle of the field, so when Hill broke off his seam to the corner, he had no shot of making the play.

Top-tier quarterback + top-tier play caller is always gonna get theirs at some point when they can protect it. Add in a mistake by a cornerback trying to drive on a dig at the sticks and a pass rush that didn’t hit home in part because of a blatant missed hold and that’s how you start giving up big plays in the passing game.

Just how it is sometimes. While not a revelatory answer nor a satisfying one, it seems fitting in this case. There’s no single reason why our defense collapsed with half a quarter left in the Super Bowl, and when you look at their performance objectively it’s not really as much of a collapse as it may seem.

Let’s eliminate the long TD drive when the game was — for functional purposes — already over and look at their two fourth quarter scoring drives to take the lead:

Drive #1 was 12 plays for 83 yards and took 2:34 seconds. But 65 of those 83 yards happened on two plays, both on 3rd-and-10+: the 44-yard completion to Hill which should have been a hold on Bosa and the 21-yard pass interference call on Tarvarious Moore that put the ball on the one-yard line. So otherwise you’re looking at 10 plays for 18 yards…

Drive #2 was 7 plays for 65 yards in 2:20. An early first down came when Bosa narrowly missed Mahomes and blocked Dee Ford (who had also beat his man) in the process. Then 38 of those yards came on Sherman getting beat deep in man coverage by Watkins. To cap it off, the five-yard score was on a blatant offensive pass interference on Travis Kelce (on once again, a third down).

Football is a sport where a single missed assignment or call can start a chain reaction that leads to an entirely different outcome. It’s part of the randomness that comes from the sequential nature of the game and the far fewer possessions that football has versus a sport like basketball or hockey. Sure, in retrospect you can say the Niners shouldn’t have been in man coverage on that big play, but putting your All-Pro cornerback on their third option when you have trips on the opposite side is not a crazy or egregious play call.

A lot of shit had to go wrong to lose this lead, and the bad breaks and bad calls just seemed to converge in this one.

So what’s next? While the Niners, as much as any squad, have the right blend of coaching, management, locker room leadership, and young talent to theoretically become a consistent contender, a lost Super Bowl opportunity is always one thing. And that’s a kick to the balls. Potentially even more so for teams that rely on a dominant defense.

Of the top 5 DVOA defenses since 2009:

- 74% rank worse the next year
- 38% stick in top 5 the next year
- 34% experience a double-digit drop
- Avg. drop of 7.3 spots

SEA stuck 5 years straight. DEN/ARI/CHI did it 3 years in a row. BAL is going into year 4.

— Michael Kist (@MichaelKistNFL) February 5, 2020

Plus further evidence from Josh Hermsmeyer at 538:

Defensive performance is just much harder to predict and repeat than offensive performance. The rules (in general) are built to help offenses, it’s harder to hide a weak link on defense, and the big negative plays and takeaways that are so important towards defensive performance are — as shown in the chart above — some of the hardest plays to predict on a year-to-year basis. That’s especially the case for takeaways.

In 2018, we ranked 25th in Defensive DVOA, in part because our historically bad takeaway numbers had us last in the league at generating turnovers. In 2019, we jumped to 5th in Defensive DVOA and 6th in takeaways. While our off-season influx of talent may make that jump seem predetermined, the ebb and flow of team takeaways is much more random than that.

Take a look at this graph (which I totally just made to test out the graph building functionality of Squarespace). It shows the six teams who either led the league (1st) or were last in the league (32nd) at takeaways during the past three years.

Takeaway Rankings by Year (2017-2019)

The only consistency is the inconsistency... and the pretty colors

Every single one of those teams ranked 22nd or worse AND 6th or better in takeaways at some point… in only a three year span. And of those six teams, the Ravens were the only one to get into the top ten more than once.

Even if our defense continues to be strong, and there is every reason to believe it will be, it’s worth expecting our takeaway numbers to move closer to the mean. Which would — in theory — move our overall defensive output closer to the mean as well.

But if there’s hope for continued defensive dominance, it’s likely in our pass rush. This year we led the league in hurry rate and finished second in sack rate (both important, influential, and potentially repeatable statistics for offensive disruption). But QB hits — a statistical category where we’re oddly middle-of-the-pack — has proven to be one of the most consistently predictable performance stats (defensive or otherwise) on a year-to-year basis.

Once again, from Josh Hermsmeyer at 538:

Still there is some hope for lovers of the three-and-out. While rare, there are plays a defense makes that do tend to carry over from year to year. One of the most stable defensive stats is hits on the quarterback, which has a relatively impressive year-to-year r-squared of 0.21 — better even than total offensive DVOA, which is the gold standard for stability in team metrics. Quarterback hits include sacks — 43.5 percent of QB hits end in a sack, and those by themselves tend to not be predictive — but also plays in which the passer is contacted after the pass is thrown, and that contact is incredibly disruptive to a passing offense.

I’m picking and choosing for this graph, so take it with a grain of salt, but I tried to select teams who placed in the top ten in QB hits during the 2017-2019 stretch and had the same scheme and/or defensive mind in place for all three years. Then I added the Niners for context. And the Raiders (lol).

The results are encouraging.

QB Hit Rankings by Year (2017-2019)

That’s four strong defensive teams, who — despite having differing schemes and, in some cases, a rotating door of talent — have been incredibly consistent in terms of generating QB hits.

And while our QB hits have stayed near league average the past three years, I would guess in our case that that’s an anomaly. Like many other statistics, our QB hits took a dip in the back half of our regular season before picking up again once our defense got healthy (we registered 8 or more QB hits in three of our last four games, including the Super Bowl). And while each year has teams and players whose pressure is overstated because they convert hits into sacks at an abnormally high rate, leading (or near-leading) the league in both hurry rate and sack rate would imply that the QB hits will soon be on their way.

So perhaps it isn’t all doom and gloom. We’re young, well-coached, and — if we can keep up our pass rush — have the means to suit up another dominant defense in 2020. But it’s unlikely we’ll have the turnover luck we had in 2019, and in order to offset that and build a perennial contender, our offense will need to improve.

That’s next time.