Since I’ve already broken my New Year’s resolution and have no plans on killing myself—especially over the Packers’ Titanic of a season—I might as well make a final comment on what transpired, with a playoff knockout 20-16 loss to the Lions on Sunday which ended with style. That is to say, Brett Favre “style,” with Christian Watson having no chance in hell of catching this ball, but that guy in the Lions’ jersey on the far left certainly did—and did:
There was still over 3 minutes to play, but the defense “rested” and gave-up three first downs to a Lions team that had already been knocked out of the playoffs after the Seahawks won their game earlier in the day. Fun Fact One: The Lions never swept the season series during the Favre era, but three times during the Rodgers era. Fun Fact Two: The Packers only had one losing season in 16 years during the Favre era; they’ve had four during the Rodgers era. Tom Brady had to play 22 seasons as a starter before he had his first losing season—and still made the playoffs.
After signing that gigantic contract over the off-season, Rodgers just decided he didn’t owe the organization anything. The Packers drafted two promising wide receivers in Watson and Romeo Doubs, but Rodgers decided he didn’t have to come in during the off-season workouts and minicamp to get them acclimated with his idiosyncrasies. You have to hand to Favre for one thing: unlike Rodgers, he made the players around him “better,” which is why he had 15 winning seasons, played in two Super Bowls, and 5 of the 12 losses during the 2005 season were decided by a field goal or less, and three others by a touchdown or less. Only in two games could the Packers be said to have been uncompetitive.
So unlike the 2005 season, during Rodgers losing seasons the Packers were often not competitive. I mean if you get blown-out by some bleeping moron like Zack Wilson in Lambeau Field, there has to be something seriously amiss. Even in losses that the Packers were not blown-out in, they just didn’t look like they had any chance of winning. Of course we learned that Rodgers injured his throwing hand early in the season against the Giants, and as we discussed he decided to keep playing instead of taking a week or two to heal, and the Packers went on to have its worst period of losing since the 2005 season, dropping seven of eight games, and just narrowly missing eight straight losses after a typical Cowboys meltdown and the Packers winning in OT.
Time and again, observers would say “What the (fill in the blank) is wrong with this team?” When Rodgers was putting himself to pasture, the defense “rested.” When Rodgers was “on”—which this season meant mainly serving as “game manager” with a few timely tosses to compliment the running game—the defense tended to help the opposition to “even” the score. Case in point: the Packers had only three double-digit wins this season; the previous two seasons the Packers had 15 double-digit wins. More often than not, only when the offense and defense made “plays” together did the Packers win: the defense forced eight turnovers combined against the Dolphins and Vikings (yeah, when Kirk Cousins goes “downhill,” it’s a landslide), and the Packers scored 67 points combined. But against the Lions, it was zero turnovers forced, and only 16 points scored.
Don’t give me that shit about Davante Adams. The Packers had losing records with him as the principle target in Mike McCarthy’s last two seasons as coach, and the Raiders were 6-11 this season. Yeah, maybe the Packers would have played better with him in the line-up this season—or probably not, given Rodgers playing with an injured hand. The Packers were 7-0 in games that he did not play in previously, and we know that Rodgers’ “tunnel-vision” during the playoffs hurt the team’s chances of winning when the game was on the line; that happened against the Buccaneers in the NFC championship game in 2020, and against the 49ers last season.
It just seemed to me that what kept the Packers from having a fourth consecutive 13-win season all rested on the play of Rodgers, and he never really once played like “himself”—if that was ever anything but teammates making him look “good”—unlike, say, Brady or even Favre. How often did we see Rodgers loft those horribly easy passes to intercept as he did on the last offensive play of season? Whose fault was that? How often did we see passes bounce off the heads of linemen? How often did we see passes thrown behind receivers? For all the talk about “dropped” passes, how often did we see passes thrown that were simply uncatchable? That last pass had zero chance of being caught by Watson, and why with over three minutes to play why wasn’t a shorter pass to keep the drive alive and burn-up clock called? How many times have we asked the question this season of why a low-percentage pass was run on third and fourth down?
Well, that’s all over now. What will happen after this season? Will Matt LaFleur be able to finally run the offense he wants, which is why the team drafted a “mobile” quarterback like Jordan Love? Well, let’s see here:
If Rodgers decides to come back next season, the team will see a nearly $60 million dollar salary cap hit. Now, if the Packers decided to cut him during the off-season, that would leave $100 million in “dead” money that can’t be used for anything to help the team (unless being rid of Rodgers “helps” the team). If he is traded, it is unlikely any team—based on his play this year and the example of Russell Wilson’s awful season with the Broncos after the huge contract he signed—would be willing to shoulder all of Rodgers’ contract, and the Packers would still be on the hook for $40 million (depending on if the “move” is made before or after June 1). Rodgers also has an injury clause that could force the team to pay him if the injury seeps into the 2024 season.
The bottom line is that given the salary cap situation, if this season was the “make or break” season, then “break” certainly seems to be on the horizon if Rodgers is still on the roster next season. This past season he had a career worst not just in passer rating, but his career-low QBR was so bad (26th in the league among quarterbacks with the minimal number of snaps), that this more than anything else testified to his general ineffectiveness. A 39.4 QBR suggests that he had a net negative impact on the team’s performance on the field. Case in point, in the previous 64 games Rodgers threw just 15 interceptions; this season he threw 12, the most since his first season as a starter. From 2018 to 2021, Rodgers threw 9 TD passes for every one interception; this season, it was 2-1.
The question is even if this was an “off” season for Rodgers, is it worth it to see if he still “has it”? Given Rodgers tendency to be easily affected by adversity—which is distinctly at odds with Brady’s single-minded devotion to winning at all costs—I’m not sure of that at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment