BY JIM THOMAS
It's not an illusion, the Rams' offense is as bad as it looks. In fact, with just two games remaining in the 2011 season, the Rams' lack of production has reached historic proportions.
With a league-low 166 points scored, the Rams are on pace to score less than 200 points for only the second time since World II. If the Rams stay on their average of 11.9 points per game, they will complete the 2011 season with 190 points scored.
And given the caliber of the defensive competition in their final two games, the Rams might be lucky to score at all.
Entering their Monday night game at Candlestick Park, Pittsburgh was ranked No. 1 in the league in total defense and No. 2 in scoring defense. The Steelers' foe, San Francisco, was No. 4 in total defense and No. 1 in scoring defense.
The Rams travel to Pittsburgh for a Christmas Eve game at Heinz Field. Then on Jan. 1, they ring in the New Year by playing host to San Francisco in the season finale at the Edward Jones Dome.
The Steelers are in a knock-down, drag-out fight with Baltimore for the AFC North title. The 49ers, who beat the Rams 26-0 on Dec. 4, still could be in the running for a first-round playoffs bye when they face the Rams. So neither team might be resting any regulars when they play St. Louis.
Before coach Steve Spagnuolo's arrival in 2009, you had to go back 65 years and two cities in franchise history to find a Rams team that scored fewer than 200 points. From 1937 through 1944, the Cleveland Rams never scored more than 196 points in any of the franchise's first seven seasons. (The Rams didn't field a team in 1943.)
But in those days, the Rams played only 10 or 11 games a season, not 16. Even the 1982 Rams during that strike-shortened nine-game season managed to score exactly 200 points.
So from the '44 Rams, who scored 188 points in a 4-6 campaign, one must go all the way forward in time to the '09 club —which scored 175 points — to find another Rams team that scored fewer than 200 in a season.
In '09, Spagnuolo stepped into the considerable mess left by predecessor Scott Linehan, one replete with bad draft picks and failed free agents.
The 2010 offense under rookie quarterback Sam Bradford was much improved, scoring 114 more points than the '09 squad, marking the second-best improvement in points scored in the NFL by a team from '09 to 2010.
But despite the signing of offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels, the drafting of two wide receivers and a tight end in Rounds 2-4, the trade for Brandon Lloyd and the signing of offensive lineman Harvey Dahl in free agency, the Rams have regressed noticeably in this injury-plagued 2011 season.
As Dahl said after the Rams' 20-13 loss Sunday to Cincinnati, "We just can't get it all connected on offense."
Not even close.
The Rams rank last in the league in third-down conversion rate (26.9 percent) and are 30th in red-zone offense, scoring touchdowns on just 35.7 percent of their possessions inside the opponent's 20-yard line.
"It's hard to move the ball when you're not converting on third down," Spagnuolo said following the loss to Cincinnati. "We haven't been able to generate those explosive plays, and that's kind of been the story a lot.
"For whatever reason (defenses) are taking away certain weapons that they defend a certain way. We've got to try to manufacture some points working our way down the field. It's hard to be perfect for however number of plays, but one thing we've got to do is convert on third down."
With a tattered offensive and no true fullback on the roster, the Rams had trouble gaining inches — much less yards — on third down against the Bengals.
In going 0-for-eight on third-down conversions through three quarters, the Rams never faced any situation longer than third-and-7.
They had a third-and-1, third-and-2, third-and-3, and third-and-four plays — all very manageable down-and-distance situations. But they had minus-10 yards to show for those eight third-down plays:
• Steven Jackson was stopped for 1- and 2-yard losses on runs.
• Kellen Clemens was sacked twice.
• Clemens threw incomplete once and scrambled once for one yard (on third-and-2).
• The only other plays to gain positive yardage besides Clemens' scramble were a 1-yard completion to Lloyd on third-and-4 and a 5-yard completion to Danario Alexander on third-and-6.
A facemask penalty against the Bengals' defense did give the Rams a first down on third-and-1 in the second quarter, but because it came on a penalty it wasn't counted in the conversion stats. On the actual play, Lloyd lined up in the backfield took a pitch from Clemens, and was nailed for a 3-yard loss.
So the red zone remains the dead zone for the Rams, and the act of actually crossing the goal line remains a rarity.
The Rams have scored only 15 TDs this season, and if that number doesn't change against Pittsburgh and San Francisco, it will be the second-lowest total in franchise history — trailing only the 10 TDs scored by the Cleveland Rams in 1937.
And if the Rams don't score at least 34 points over their final two games, they will become just the 15th team in the NFL since the advent of the 16-game schedule in 1978 to score fewer than 200 points.
Those hardly are "milestones" a team wants to reach.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Kroenke plotting changes for Rams
by Bryan Burwell
SAN FRANCISCO • By now the details are no longer very important. Let's just say that Sunday in Candlestick Park for the Rams was just like any other NFL Sunday — another bad loss in another lost season that makes every game day feel like a regurgitated Groundhog's Day nightmare for this really bad football team.
By the end of this 26-0 loss to the San Francisco 49ers, the 2-10 Rams were doing what they always do, marching glumly off the field while another team celebrated. The Niners were prancing around Candlestick doing all sorts of silly dances and waving and blowing kisses to their giddy fans after clinching the NFC West title. And while the Niners partied, the Rams were forced to ponder their increasingly sorry state, which appears to be getting more hopeless as the weeks go by.
This may have been the worst loss of all, because the Rams had absolutely no chance of ever winning this game. Seriously. No chance at all. Not when your injury-plagued, patchwork offense is physically incapable of scoring. I'm not trying to be flippant, either. The Rams' offense is now averaging less than a touchdown per game, which should not be possible in professional football. But on Sunday, the Rams' offense had one offensive possession (out of 12) all game that was over five plays and never came within 37 yards of the end zone all day long.
Oops, I said I wouldn't bore you with details.
At this point in this franchise's unsteady history, the only thing that any of you really want to know is when and how this bad football will ever end. There's only one man who can provide those answers and his name is Stan Kroenke, the majority owner, who is not exactly reclusive but does not particularly regard public attention as essential as air or water.
While it's popular to characterize Kroenke as some indifferent absentee owner, nothing could be further from the truth. As I've told you before, he's almost always around on game days but usually slips out some back door in the locker room before reporters can get close. But Sunday, Kroenke decided not to make a hasty exit. Instead, he lingered in the cramped visitors' locker room, slowly navigating his way over and around half-filled equipment bags, discarded balls of tape, helmets and shoulder pads. The man who hasn't said very much publicly about the state of his woeful football team quietly moved from locker stall to locker stall, shaking hands and whispering in the ears of his dispirited employees.
With some players, it was nothing more than a firm handshake and a quick word. With others, Kroenke lingered a bit longer, placing a hand on a shoulder, maybe holding on to a forearm, too. But each time, he looked them all square in their eyes and spoke to nearly every player in the room.
"I just wanted them to know that I appreciated their efforts," Kroenke would say a few minutes later as he stood in a narrow hallway just outside the locker room. "I know they don't count that in the NFL, but I wanted to make sure the players knew I do appreciate their effort."
And that was pretty much it. He chatted politely for a few more minutes before making a retreat into the parking lot where a car was waiting to whisk him off to a waiting jet at the nearby airport.
Is he mad or frustrated? Is he about to lose his mind and fire everyone in sight, and quite a few who aren't? Is he plotting the complete overthrow of the front office and coaching staff or does he have a more surgical renovation in mind?
I'd like to tell you that Kroenke unburdened his mind like he was on a therapist's couch. But that's not Kroenke's style.
"As you know we don't discuss or make these kinds of decisions during the season," is all he was willing to say at this point.
But understand this. The man is not taking all this losing lightly. You could see it in his expressions as he moved around the locker room. People who know him well say he is extremely frustrated by what has transpired in his second season as majority owner and at the proper time — which is not in the middle of the season — he will decide what needs to be done. They say he is paying very close attention but feels no overwhelming need to prove that he is some boisterous ownership tough guy who needs to stand in front of microphones and TV cameras calling subordinates on the carpet.
Just because he's not going all George Steinbrenner on us doesn't mean he's playing the role of indifferent absentee owner.
In his typical "Silent Stanley" style, he prefers the low-key approach. The people who know him best say he has been gathering every snippet of information for the past two seasons — probably longer than that, really, since he's been around this franchise since 1995 — and when the season is over, he will be able to intelligently evaluate who, what, when, where and how things didn't work.
Of equal importance, his fact finding must also sort out who and what is working.
I've told you this before and I will continue to maintain this: Kroenke will not automatically utilize the scorched earth approach when all is said and done. People who he believes are part of the solution could survive regardless of popular opinion, and those who he believes are part of the problem will be gone.
There will be evaluations about the current operating structure of the football organization. There will be appraisals about how decisions are made, who makes them, when they make them, and if they should be making them.
There will be accountability in every aspect of the operation of this organization, and in the end, changes will be made.
But do not be surprised or disappointed if he does not follow the whims of popular opinion.
Quite frankly, draw comfort from that.
SAN FRANCISCO • By now the details are no longer very important. Let's just say that Sunday in Candlestick Park for the Rams was just like any other NFL Sunday — another bad loss in another lost season that makes every game day feel like a regurgitated Groundhog's Day nightmare for this really bad football team.
By the end of this 26-0 loss to the San Francisco 49ers, the 2-10 Rams were doing what they always do, marching glumly off the field while another team celebrated. The Niners were prancing around Candlestick doing all sorts of silly dances and waving and blowing kisses to their giddy fans after clinching the NFC West title. And while the Niners partied, the Rams were forced to ponder their increasingly sorry state, which appears to be getting more hopeless as the weeks go by.
This may have been the worst loss of all, because the Rams had absolutely no chance of ever winning this game. Seriously. No chance at all. Not when your injury-plagued, patchwork offense is physically incapable of scoring. I'm not trying to be flippant, either. The Rams' offense is now averaging less than a touchdown per game, which should not be possible in professional football. But on Sunday, the Rams' offense had one offensive possession (out of 12) all game that was over five plays and never came within 37 yards of the end zone all day long.
Oops, I said I wouldn't bore you with details.
At this point in this franchise's unsteady history, the only thing that any of you really want to know is when and how this bad football will ever end. There's only one man who can provide those answers and his name is Stan Kroenke, the majority owner, who is not exactly reclusive but does not particularly regard public attention as essential as air or water.
While it's popular to characterize Kroenke as some indifferent absentee owner, nothing could be further from the truth. As I've told you before, he's almost always around on game days but usually slips out some back door in the locker room before reporters can get close. But Sunday, Kroenke decided not to make a hasty exit. Instead, he lingered in the cramped visitors' locker room, slowly navigating his way over and around half-filled equipment bags, discarded balls of tape, helmets and shoulder pads. The man who hasn't said very much publicly about the state of his woeful football team quietly moved from locker stall to locker stall, shaking hands and whispering in the ears of his dispirited employees.
With some players, it was nothing more than a firm handshake and a quick word. With others, Kroenke lingered a bit longer, placing a hand on a shoulder, maybe holding on to a forearm, too. But each time, he looked them all square in their eyes and spoke to nearly every player in the room.
"I just wanted them to know that I appreciated their efforts," Kroenke would say a few minutes later as he stood in a narrow hallway just outside the locker room. "I know they don't count that in the NFL, but I wanted to make sure the players knew I do appreciate their effort."
And that was pretty much it. He chatted politely for a few more minutes before making a retreat into the parking lot where a car was waiting to whisk him off to a waiting jet at the nearby airport.
Is he mad or frustrated? Is he about to lose his mind and fire everyone in sight, and quite a few who aren't? Is he plotting the complete overthrow of the front office and coaching staff or does he have a more surgical renovation in mind?
I'd like to tell you that Kroenke unburdened his mind like he was on a therapist's couch. But that's not Kroenke's style.
"As you know we don't discuss or make these kinds of decisions during the season," is all he was willing to say at this point.
But understand this. The man is not taking all this losing lightly. You could see it in his expressions as he moved around the locker room. People who know him well say he is extremely frustrated by what has transpired in his second season as majority owner and at the proper time — which is not in the middle of the season — he will decide what needs to be done. They say he is paying very close attention but feels no overwhelming need to prove that he is some boisterous ownership tough guy who needs to stand in front of microphones and TV cameras calling subordinates on the carpet.
Just because he's not going all George Steinbrenner on us doesn't mean he's playing the role of indifferent absentee owner.
In his typical "Silent Stanley" style, he prefers the low-key approach. The people who know him best say he has been gathering every snippet of information for the past two seasons — probably longer than that, really, since he's been around this franchise since 1995 — and when the season is over, he will be able to intelligently evaluate who, what, when, where and how things didn't work.
Of equal importance, his fact finding must also sort out who and what is working.
I've told you this before and I will continue to maintain this: Kroenke will not automatically utilize the scorched earth approach when all is said and done. People who he believes are part of the solution could survive regardless of popular opinion, and those who he believes are part of the problem will be gone.
There will be evaluations about the current operating structure of the football organization. There will be appraisals about how decisions are made, who makes them, when they make them, and if they should be making them.
There will be accountability in every aspect of the operation of this organization, and in the end, changes will be made.
But do not be surprised or disappointed if he does not follow the whims of popular opinion.
Quite frankly, draw comfort from that.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Spags Deserves All the Blame
There have been plenty of times during the course of his struggling run as the Rams' coach that when the smoke cleared on another Sunday afternoon debacle you could always find some thin wisp of promise in Steve Spagnuolo's reclamation project. Sometimes — heck, most of the time — it took a lot of squinting to see the good amidst the disaster of a 10-33 record.
But there always has been something this man's focused, relentlessly optimistic, tunnel-vision public approach and his unwavering "My way or the highway" control-freak personality behind the scenes that convinced me Spagnuolo eventually would find a way to fix this mess of a franchise and turn the Rams into championship contenders.
That faith was shaken hard Sunday. The results we've been waiting to see — the big turnaround after last year's surprising leap from a 1-15 disaster in 2009 to a 7-9 season that had everyone believing the Rams were on the verge of winning the NFC West title — just have not happened. The Rams are getting worse, not better. With a 23-20 loss to Arizona on Sunday, the Rams are now 2-9 and guaranteed of an eighth consecutive non-winning season.
In the midst of all this losing, here's what continues to be so fascinating about Spagnuolo. He does not show any of the normal signs of an embattled head coach. Watch him during and after games. He does not show any of the disturbing body language of a coach on the hot seat. There are no slumped shoulders, no hang-dog expressions, no back-against-the-wall emotional flailing. Spagnuolo did not sound like a coach on the endangered list full of regret and half-baked alibis.
Even while the rest of us are screaming at the results of some of his coaching decisions, Spagnuolo conducts himself with the confident air of a man who firmly believes he still is in complete control of his environment.
"I think our team is passionate," he said. "I mean the work I see when they go out, I don't think there's a lack of effort. We know we're a little short-handed in some spots. ... But my pride and competitiveness says that no matter what, we've got to find a way to win."
But the cold-blooded business of coaching does not reward coaches for their outstanding personality traits or hand out A's for effort. The halls of Canton are full of jerks, reprobates and brow-beating maniacs who have stalked NFL sidelines. This is a bottom-line business and winning is all that matters. What does it mean that his players don't quit? What does it mean that they fight to the bitter end every Sunday? What does it mean that his team is full of real professionals who refuse to use injuries as excuses?
It doesn't buy him much more than the opportunity to let the season play out, giving him the full 16 games to determine his fate.
But on Sunday, Spagnuolo committed the sort of glaring coaching errors that under the best of circumstances get owners looking at you sideways, and in the worst of circumstances — such as a loss that sends your team falling deeper into the abyss of another lost season — gets a giant target plastered on your chest.
Add this to the growing list of games we've seen far too many times this season. This was a game against a bad foe that didn't deserve to win. But it was yet another game the Rams gave away, and they gave it away because of failed decisions by the coach.
In the third quarter, trailing 13-10, they had a fourth-and-1 play on their own 30-yard line and the entire crowd rumbling in anticipation that Spagnuolo would go for the first down. It was one of those moments in which a struggling team already eliminated from playoff contention — with six games left — had nothing to lose. When Spagnuolo asked for a measurement, it showed the Rams were only half the length of a football away from a first down.
But Spagnuolo ordered a punt.
"It was just way too early in the third quarter," Spagnuolo said. "We're on our own 30. I just felt it was too risky in my opinion."
What exactly would 'Spags' have risked by going for it? The expiration date on the season already is long gone. The only thing the Rams are jockeying for is favorable position in the first round of next spring's NFL draft. So where was the risk? Even if they failed to get the first down, you don't second guess the decision to go for it because it was the bold thing to do and the right thing to do.
What happened next was an "out of the frying pan and into the fire" moment for Spagnuolo. He ordered the punt, but instead of Donnie Jones using the directional punt to the sidelines, he hit one right down the middle of the field to Cardinals return man Patrick Peterson, the rookie from LSU who already had three touchdowns of 80 yards or more on punt returns (including the game-winning 99-yarder the last time these teams met).
"The intent was not to go down the middle," said Spagnuolo.
The intent did not match the result. All together now: Arrrrrrrrrrgggggggh! One juke here, one wiggle there and whooooosh. .... Peterson hit top speed and dashed 80 yards untouched for a touchdown that gave the Cards a 20-10 lead.
This might have been the most disastrous sequence of coaching decisions I've seen Spagnuolo make in his three seasons as the Rams' coach. But we only had to wait about 20 more minutes before he made another decision that would produce another agonizing collective groan.
With 3 minutes, 22 seconds left in the fourth quarter and the Rams now trailing by three points, Spagnuolo was faced with another fourth-and-1 situation. The ball was on the St. Louis 36 and this time he didn't hesitate. He called for another punt, and that was the ballgame.
"I thought it was (fourth and 2)," Spagnuolo said. "I thought it was 2 yards (not 1). We had three timeouts (and) I thought if we could hold them, didn't let them get the first down, we're going to get the ball right back."
He must have been the only one who thought that because his defense had been shredded by the Cardinals on the ground all game long, giving up a staggering 268 yards rushing, including 228 by Beanie Wells. The Cardinals were averaging more than 7 yards a carry, and there was absolutely a zero shot that the Rams would get the ball back again.
And the Rams never got the ball back. They used all three timeouts and the Cardinals ran out the clock.
There's another clock that is still ticking, and it's the one that measures the time remaining on Spagnuolo's head-coaching life. I still think there's a chance to keep it running, but it's dwindling. Can he control that clock and make this thing work?
We have five weeks to see if he can.
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