Let’s play a game. Try to forget alllllll your priors about teams, players, and coaches. Let’s say you’re called Brua Bragovailoa. Or, if you prefer, Brike BrackDaniel. And let’s put you in charge of the Friami Folphins.
Here is a screenshot. What do you see? What if I tell you, for certain, that a defender is blitzing? Can you ID the blitzer?
Top marks if you guessed Nick Cross (#20), the safety playing down as the end man on the line of scrimmage. What unfolds from the screenshot will probably go down as the most embarrassing team sack of the year.
The Dolphins roll with a split backfield before sending one back in motion to create a 3x1 set at the snap. It’s a nub formation, meaning there is no one outside the tight end up on the line of scrimmage to the single receiver side. On the three receiver side, there is Tyreek Hill (TYREEK HILL!). On the solo side, it’s Tanner Conner. You tell me, from a defensive perspective, who is more dangerous?
Look at the Colts DBs. Indy has Cross standing over Conner. Outside Cross – where there is no receiver – is cornerback Mekhi Blackmon. There is a middle-of-the-field safety, shaded to Blackmon’s side. What does that tell you? Why would the Colts set up to play three-over-one on Tanner Conner, one of the slowest players off the ball in the league? Oh, and as a reminder: TYREEK HILL IS ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE FIELD!
As the Dolphins work through their pre-snap operation, Cross creeps closer to the line. It’s yet another indicator. If Cross isn’t attacking, what is Blackmon doing hanging so far outside? So that means Blackmon is on Conner, with some funnel help from the safety. That makes Cross the spare man; he’s clearly in attack mode. If the quarterback and line couldn’t pick that up through the pre-snap presentation alone, Cross’ movement is tantamount to holding up a placard. Guys, I’m blitzing! Colts defensive end Tyquan Lewis leaps to cross the face of the Dolphins tackle, clearing a lane for Cross. The tackle fails to hand him off to his buddy, leaving Cross free to scream through unblocked and rock Tua Tagovailoa.
Let’s try again. Here is another one. Again, a blitz is coming. Can you ID the blitzer?
If you had to take an educated guess, would you bet on the player in the overhang slot, nestled between the left tackle and the innermost receiver, the guy with eyes staring into the backfield? Probably.
It is kind of, sort of disguised, with the Colts trying to present that they’re bailing out into a two-deep, zone coverage. But, come on, it’s hardly the most creative act of deception. You would think, at minimum, a back staying in protection would have a quick peek at the slot to check whether he was bluffing or coming to clean the clock of his quarterback. You would hope maybe your $53m a year quarterback would point that out to his back.
Nope. The Dolphins fail to ID who’s coming, leaving Kenny Moore free to blast Tagovailoa, forcing a fumble.
As opening weeks go, it’s tough to think of a unit that looked as unprepared as the Dolphins. They committed elemental errors. They had no answers to whatever the Colts threw their way.
That opening week was also our first chance to see Lou Anarumo in his new environment.
Anarumo – the Patron Saint of The Read Optional – was the fall guy in Cincy last year. The long-time Bengals DC was ejected after an abject season. The Bengals’ defense was one of the flakiest in the league. They finished 28th in EPA/play and 31st in rush success rate. They couldn’t stop anything: they couldn’t slow the run or pressure the quarterback. Anarumo was left chasing his tail, trying to find a balance between putting bigger bodies on the field to help slow down opposing run games while keeping enough springy players on the field to threaten the pass.
It was a structural nightmare. Anarumo’s group got caved in weekly. The safety rotations that defined his early success in Cincy vanished, and he lacked the players to deploy the kind of week-to-week, one-off tactics that have long been his signature. Anarumo was left playing our-guys-versus-your-guys football… without any talent (sans Trey Hendrickson).
A change of scenery was probably best for all involved. But it’s still pretty damn funny that the Bengals looked at their roster and decided the only thing that needed to change was one of the best defensive coordinators in the league. Cincy swapped Anurmo for Al Golden, the team’s former linebackers coach. Like Anarumo, Golden is filled with interesting ideas. With an upper-tier squad, he could even be a needle mover. With the Bengals, not so much. Cincy banked on running back the same unit, with minor alterations, and hoped Golden alone could spark an about-face. All offseason, there was talk of “internal growth,” a neat verbal tick that typically means: “we’re unwilling to spend money, we’re capped out, or we’re unwilling to admit our draft failures”.
Four weeks in, the Bengals rank 25th in EPA/play. The Colts, under Anarumo, are up to 13th.
The Colts are smashing expectations early in the season – even their own. Turns out that having a quarterback who understands the operation of an offense is helpful. And so is having a defensive coordinator who keeps up with the latest trends around the league. Huzzah!
Anarumo took over the Indy gig from Gus Bradley, one of the most rigid coordinators in the league. Anarumo, by contrast, is not wedded to a single philosophy. His greatest strength – and at times his weakness – is his adaptability. He shapeshifts every week. There are foundational principles, but Anarumo is a “gameplan” coach in the truest sense: he sprinkles in different ideas, packages, stand-alone coverages, and pressures, tailored to the opposition he’s facing. Everybody tweaks; Anarumo delivers wholesale changes.
At the core of his defensive doctrine, Anarumo is rolling out a grab bag of the league’s best ideas. And while he isn’t a philosophical coach, he is the kind of thought-leader that coaches at every level — from the pros down to high school — study to steal his best work.
Anarumo consistently lays things down on tape 18 months before the league’s best. You may only see it for a half, but Anarumo will alight on something early that becomes a league-wide trend within a couple of seasons. Other coaches make those subtle changes core parts of their identity. For Anarumo, he’s on to the next thing. It’s a week-to-week approach. Something comes in, then it will drift away.
It’s partly why, I believe, Anarumo’s regular-season track record is patchy. It’s tough to outthink the best in the profession every week — and it’s difficult to get players to switch assignments and devour new ideas every week. It’s also why Anarumo is as dangerous a postseason coordinator as there is in football. If you’re looking to devise a one-off gameplan, Anarumo is as good as it gets.
Until everything fell apart in Cincinnati, Anarumo was at the forefront of modern defensive evolution, without the same branding as Vic Fangio, Brian Flores, or Mike MacDonald. He was one of the first to buy back into two-becomes-one safety rotations as the base of his defense; he championed the walking linebacker before it as A Thing; he led the league in drop-eight coverages for three straight seasons; and when his unit was being burned by at-the-snap motion and tight ends, he became the foremost user of ‘Locked’ coverages.
Anarumo has tapped into all those ideas – and more – in his first few weeks with the Colts. The hallmarks of his best units with the Bengals are all there, with fresh twists. But there have also been overhauls to his traditional structure.
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