The two-man blitz dance

How to identify the most effective blitzing linebackers — and the lost art of the lone plugger

Once you get past a freshly brewed pot of coffee, a chicken and pesto sandwich, and Ayo Ediberi, nothing in life is purer than a linebacker crashing through the line of scrimmage on a blitz.

Attacking interior gaps is the name of the modern defensive NFL game. Sure, the pressure and blitz worlds have evolved over the past half-decade, with teams devising inventive ways to break down and puncture protections. Those new designs have placed a heavy burden on linebackers: more coverage responsibilities, increased pressure assignments, and dealing with the old-fashioned thing we call the run game.

It’s a lot. Still, nothing brings more spontaneous joy — a Leo pointing at the screen moment — than a linebacker blitzing through an interior gap. And even as pressure plans have become more radical, a linebacker shooting through an inside gap remains a central tenet of the league’s most robust units.

Linebackers march their territory with a macho arrogance. It’s a toughest-guy-on-the-field vibe. They are the enforcers, and the key conduit that ties the three levels of a defense together.

Blitzing has become an essential part of the job description. No three-down ‘backer can get away with offering nothing in the blitz world, be it as a decoy who drops or someone who can deal with the hand-to-hand combat up front. Blitzing gives a linebacker the chance to drive downhill in attack mode, to deliver some old-school punishment. Where once they could light up fools in the run game or split the heads of receivers on crossing routes, now the most punishing shots are saved for taking on blockers in pass protection, before they cram into the backfield to drop quarterbacks.

The best blitzing linebackers are not always the most productive. D’Onta Hightower, for example, was, by a decent margin, the best blitzing linebacker in the league at the peak of his powers. He was smart, explosive, strong, and relentless. He could cover ground others could only dream of — and he hit like a Scotsman once he arrived. But the Patriots did not unleash Hightower at a relentless clip. Instead, they saved him for crucial downs, and upped Hightower’s blitz rate when the postseason rolled around.

Hightower was, truly, a one-of-one. He could color outside the lines as a legitimate pass-rusher, tying together moves up the middle or on the edge — and hit opposing linemen with one-off gems. But he was also a technical perfectionist. He was diligent about mastering the basics of the craft, executing the mundane building blocks that allowed him to close to the backfield at frightening speed.

The best blitzers, to me at least, are built in the Hightower vintage. They are not blitz-all-the-time players. Blitzing shouldn’t even be their main strength; if it is, then they’re just a pass rusher, usually wrapped in a smaller, less effective body than their full-time colleagues.

The most efficient, potent blitzers are effective precisely because they bring with them a natural disguise. They’re so damn good in coverage, fit the run, or can spin to anywhere in the defensive shell that an offense cannot get a read on their assignment before the snap. And that what-are-they-about-to-do feeling that drifts through the mind of the protectors and quarterback gives the blitzer a head-start when it’s time to pull the trigger.

Hightower was that dude. Has anyone picked up his baton?