Just before the opening kickoff of Buffalo's playoff eliminator at Cleveland on Sunday, former Bills special-teams virtuoso and present-day CBS analyst Steve Tasker offered a bold prediction.
A game played in horizontally falling snow and winds of up to 43 mph and on a field reduced by the elements to a mixture of muck, snow and ice might not be as low-scoring as one might expect, Tasker said.
The final score could be 52-50, or it could be 6-3, he advised.
A moment later, Cleveland's Josh Cribbs fielded Rian Lindell's kick, started upfield, found a seam and, trying to make a cut, fell into the glop.
And every soul in either city, or anywhere in the football-wagering world, who had bet the under -- set at 40 points by oddsmakers who clearly had not watched the Weather Channel last week -- quietly rejoiced.
Tasker's hunch that the game might turn into a high-scoring point-fest stemmed from his own Arctic experiences with the AFC-dominating Bills of the late 1980s and early '90s, who won late-season and playoff games by scores like 37-21 (over the Raiders late in the 1988 regular season), 44-34 (against Miami in the 1990 playoffs) and 29-23 (over the Raiders again in the 1993 playoffs).
Those games were all played in very cold and/or snowy conditions and on artificial turf at what was then known as Rich Stadium. The weather on those days was an inconvenience to the warm-weather visitors, a boost to Buffalo's already-sizeable home-field advantage.
This one took place in a blizzard, on ground better suited for planting onions than attempting anything remotely athletic. The weather wasn't just another factor in Cleveland's 8-0 win, the first National Football League game to end with that score since 1929. The conditions, and the way the two teams handled them, made all the difference in keeping the Browns' playoff hopes alive and ending Buffalo's.
The Browns, whose surprising status as contenders was due mainly to a big-play passing game featuring Derek Anderson spreading mid- and long-range throws among Braylon Edwards, Kellen Winslow and Joe Jurevicius, also turned out to be better suited to churning out yards, if not points, on the ground.
Cleveland's offensive line overpowered Buffalo's smallish front seven, tearing gaping maws through which Jamal Lewis short-stepped his way to 163 yards on 33 carries.
Anderson didn't let the conditions stop him from throwing downfield, either. While the winds sent some wet footballs sailing through the hands of his receivers, he still averaged better than 15 yards on his seven completions during the first half, when Cleveland did all of its scoring.
Buffalo's offense, meanwhile, didn't seem to have much of a plan for dealing with the conditions, other than trying to get the ball into punter Brian Moorman's hands and hoping the Browns would eventually drop the ball in their own end zone.
Not counting their final drive of the game, when Trent Edwards got them within 10 yards of a potential tying touchdown, Bills offensive coordinator Steve Fairchild called 18 first-down plays. Sixteen of them were handoffs to Marshawn Lynch or Fred Jackson.
This wouldn't have been bad strategy if Buffalo's backs were getting some traction, setting up manageable second-down calls. But they managed only 40 yards on those 16 runs, putting the offense in perpetual second-and-long.
On eight occasions, the Bills ran the ball on first down, then again on second. Only twice did such repetition move the chains, after Lynch ripped off gains of 29 yards in the first and 15 in the third.
The most mystifying play call came on one of the rare occasions when Fairchild did get creative.
After reaching Cleveland's 33-yard line with a mixture of runs and short passes, including one of the only two first-down throws until that final drive, the Bills ran a reverse to Josh Reed on second-and-11.
A reverse works when a defense is over-pursuing in response to a fake in the opposite direction and if the guy carrying the ball can get around the corner quickly. The nonexistent footing negated both those possibilities. Cleveland's defense was penetrating and clogging holes, not chasing down plays. And offensive players were having enough problems staying upright, much less trying to cut sharply at full speed.
To the surprise of no one, except maybe Fairchild, Reed was buried for a 6-yard loss, ending BuffaloÕs best sustained drive until the final minutes.
Ordering Edwards to throw a screen pass to Jackson, who was a full 10 yards away from where he needed to get on Buffalo's final offensive play, was equally curious, given the lack of footing.
Fairchild never seemed to take the slop into account when calling passing plays, ordering up fly patterns and come-back routes rather than the slants and single-cut crosses that the Bills of Tasker's era used so effectively in the snow and ice.
Another questionable choice was Edwards' decision to wear gloves, a choice increasingly popular among NFL quarterbacks in frigid weather. Anyone who has ever tried to do anything outside in such conditions while bare-handed can certainly sympathize.
But even a slight loss of control over the ball can make a huge difference. Throwing accurately in gusting winds requires a tight spiral, which is just about impossible with even the sleekest of gloves on your throwing hand. Until the snow and wind died midway through the fourth quarter, Edwards looked like he was pushing the ball in the general direction of his receivers.
While Anderson's final numbers didn't indicate significantly greater accuracy (9-of-24 passing to 13-of-33 by Edwards), he got the ball where it needed to go when it mattered more often for most of the day.
The Pittsburgh-Jacksonville game provided further substantiation for the no-gloves argument. Ben Roethlisberger, wearing gloves, struggled with his control for most of the day, looking very much like a shot-putter on several key attempts late in the game. Barehanded Jacksonville quarterback David Garrard threw for three touchdowns while staking the Jaguars to a 22-7 lead en route to a 29-22 win.
Of course, Fairchild could have strategized brilliantly, Edwards could have left his gloves in his locker, and the outcome would still likely have come down to a fortunate break or two, like most games contested in such untenable conditions.
In this one, the biggest turn of fortune came early in the second quarter, when first-year long snapper Ryan Neil launched one a little too high for Moorman to handle cleanly. Fortunately for the Bills, the blunder cost them only two points because Moorman astutely booted the loose ball through the end zone rather than risking a Cleveland touchdown by trying to pick it up.
Despite Cleveland's offensive superiority, the bad break and Cleveland kicker Phil Dawson's deft -- or very, very lucky -- wind management, the Bills once again stayed within range of an unlikely victory until the closing seconds.
The defense may have been overpowered, but it didn't allow a point after Dawson's second field goal and made a late stop to give the offense one last chance.
And for the second time in as many road games, Edwards calmly guided the Bills the length of the field, without the benefit of a timeout, in the closing moments.
This time, the final drive came up a little short, just as Buffalo's remarkable turnaround after a disastrous opening month didn't quite get the Bills into the playoffs for the first time since January 2000.
There are still two games to play, at home next week against the Giants and in Philadelphia on the second-to-last day of 2007.
Mostly, though, there is next year.
BILLS MVP: Lynch had trouble with the footing at times, but provided Buffalo's only semblance of an offense for most of the afternoon.
THE OTHER GUYS' MVP: Buffalo's smallish, pursuit-based defense had no answer for Lewis' pounding forays. He may have lost a step since his 2,000-yard season with Baltimore a few years back, but he didn't need it on Sunday.
ANNOUNCERS SAY THE STUPIDEST THINGS: Shortly after Tasker raised the possibility of the Bills and Browns delivering Ð- again, for those who missed it, in blizzard conditions -- what would have been one of the highest-scoring games in NFL history, play-by-play man Gus Johnson declared Buffalo's offensive line, widely maligned for most of the year before solidifying the last few weeks, to be "sensational."
STAT OF THE WEEK: Buffalo's "sensational" offensive line did not permit a sack, mainly because Edwards was able to fling the ball away before being driven into the turf on several occasions and scrambled for 12 yards on another. But five running plays were snuffed behind the line, resulting in 14 yards in losses.
WING REPORT: With forecasts of an apocalyptic storm threatening to immobilize delivery drivers throughout Western New York, BillStuff wisely developed a two-pronged strategy to ensure wing availability during the game. On Friday night, we gathered up a couple pounds of Wegman's pre-prepared offerings and bought a bag of frozen pieces.
As for the milds, hots and barbecues from the wing bar, well, they were, in fact, chicken. And after lying arrayed on paper towels for a couple hours to drain some of the grease, and being refrigerated for 36 hours and reheated in the oven, they weren't really too bad.
They were no match, however, for the homemade variety prepared by the lovely and talented Lady BillStuff, who produced two options, cooked in boiling vegetable oil in a cast-iron pot.
The first involved mild Nance's Chicken Wing Sauce (which the label declares to be "Exploding with Taste"), butter and Mike's Buffalo Hot Sauce (with Cayenne Pepper). The second blended the Nance's, the butter and Tuong Ot Toi Viet-Nam Chili Garlic Sauce.
The chili-garlic was significantly hotter than the Mike's, and both were predictably superior to the leftovers. Wegman's gets a C-plus (which is an upgrade to the couple I tried after bringing them home on Friday), while Josselyn gets a solid A, one completely free of nepotism.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Dec. 18 2007 |