In the comments of my first "Blueprint for Rebuilding" on the 2008 Dolphins, JordansDad raised a pertinent question:

Rams?

isnt what they did in 99 considered a rebuild? or is it just a turn around? going from 4-12 to 13-3

Here's my response: The '99 Rams are definitely worthy of a look back, but we all know that story by heart, don't we? ;)

But it's funny, it's actually a very different type of rebuilding scenario than the situation we face right now - they had 90% of the foundation players, they just needed to acquire the skill players and change in coaching philosophy to get it to click. Prior to January, none of the 2008 Rams matches up position-for-position with any of the returning starters that the 1998 Rams had. (Perhaps Chris Long vs. Grant Wistrom will be a push. But Wistrom set a pretty high bar in 1999, so we'll see.)

Key foundation players (pre-1999):

WR Isaac Bruce
LT Orlando Pace
LG Fred Miller (moved to RT)
WR Ricky Proehl

MLB London Fletcher (backup most of 1998)
DE Kevin Carter
DE Grant Wistrom (backup most of 1998)
LB Mike Jones
LB D'Marco Farr
LB Roman Phifer
CB Todd Lyght

That's not a bad foundation, they were just screwed by the complete void at QB and RB. Of course, they had this rawboned journeyman quarterback named Warner under contract, playing in Amsterdam. Might as well invite him to camp, right?

A rough timeline of key changes:

• 1998: Rams sign Kurt Warner and assign him to the World League of American Football. (importance: 0 stars at the time, 5 stars later)

Coaching changes:

• January 1999: Vermeil is politely urged by John Shaw and company to overhaul his staff and his coaching philosophy. Vermeil realizes his job may be on the line, and takes heed. (importance: *** ... I give some credit for the last smart move the old front office ever made, both sticking with Vermeil and lighting a fire under him.)
  
• January 1999: Offensive coordinator Jerry Rhome is replaced with Mike Martz. (importance: ***** ... though I could be just grading the difference in effectiveness.)
• There might be others? I couldn't find very good archives (thanks for nothing, STL Today!) going back this far. I believe they already had Jim Hanifan, John Bunting, Wilbert Montgomery, etc.

Free agent acquisitions:

The Rams' offense in 1998 was downright putrid, as bad as any team Rich Brooks ever coached. Banks simply had to go. The running back situation had been unsettled and unproductive since Bettis left town. The offensive line was weak, but had a foundation player in Pace to build around.

• February 1999: Rams sign Trent Green to replace Tony Banks. (importance: **** ... even though he didn't play a snap in the regular season, Green was the prototype quarterback for the Martz offense.)
• February 1999: Rams sign a young Adam Timmerman away from the Packers. (importance: **** .... this nasty run-blocker solidified an offensive line that certainly contributed to the lack of rushing attack, and helped make up for a lack of strength over center.)
• Spring 1999: Rams trade a 2nd and 5th-round pick to Indianapolis for Marshall Faulk. (importance: *****(*) ... without Faulk, the Rams do not make the postseason in '99. No question. And yes, that's six stars on a scale of 1 to 5.)

The 1999 Draft

Again, the Rams did not focus on core players here, as their core was already pretty well solidified. But they did hit on two perimeter players, one on offense and one on defense.

• April 1999: Rams draft Torry Holt in the first round (#6 overall), the first WR chosen. Ironically, the Colts took Edgerrin James at #4 overall, to replace Faulk. If the Faulk trade had not happened, it's conceivable those picks might have been reversed.  (importance: **** ... Holt's talent, swagger and refreshing attitude helped transform the culture of the team and its fans in St. Louis.)
• April 1999: Rams draft Dre Bly in the second round. (Importance: **)

Luck

Or, call it Destiny? Teams don't plan for stuff like this, they just happen and the team rides the karmic wave up or down.

• August 1999: Trent Green is sacked, lost for the season. Kurt Warner takes over at quarterback. (Importance: *** ... don't get me wrong, Warner played out of his mind and was indispensable in the playoffs, but in my opinion the Rams would have made the playoffs, and a dramatic turnaround from 3-13, with Trent Green at QB as well.)
  

The Statement Game

Week 4, a 42-20 victory over San Francisco at the Dome. The Rams had lost I think 17 in a row to the 49ers prior to this game. (edit: Wikipedia says 17 of their previous 18.) The new-look Rams had started 3-0 over the season with pretty convincing wins over Baltimore, Atlanta (who went to the Super Bowl in 1998), and Cincinnati, but still hadn't proved anything to their long-time nemeses. All the Rams did was score touchdowns on their first three possessions, take a 28-10 first half lead, and then put their foot on the Niners' throats in the second half. Warner had five TD passes in the game.

The rest you all know by now....

With the NFL Draft looming, VanRam suggested that I pursue the idea of looking at recent rebuilds in the NFL - how did teams suddenly jump from misery to respectability to contention? Examples include the 2008 Dolphins and Falcons, the 2002 John Fox Panthers, the 1996 Tony Dungy Buccaneers, maybe even the San Diego Chargers' brief rise to glory under Bobby Beathard and young Billy Devaney in the early 1990s... if I get that many done between now and the draft.

We have reasons to hope for a speedy turnaround -- the NFL is perhaps the most friendly professional sports league in the world, in terms of allowing teams to rapidly reinvent themselves. The combination of uber-rich TV contracts and a weak players' union makes for a high salary cap and relatively flexible rosters from year to year. And, it's been done before by a few lucky teams.

The first one I'm going to focus on is the 2008 Miami Dolphins.

Continue reading this post »

This is an open question for the group. I'd like to go back and get some sort of game tape from last season, preferably something that had a video clip of every play of every game, including penalties. I see that iTunes sells "highlights" from each game... (But if all they were showing were Rams highlights, we'd get the Dallas game, the press conferences announcing Zygmunt's firing, Devaney's hiring, Spagnuolo's hiring, and that's about it.) Has anyone tried these? Is it worth 25 clams? If not, is there another source out there?

Hey Gametimers, I'm emerging from the shadows of long time lurk-dom to ask what the fuck Andy Murray is talking about in the post-game wrap of that thrashing of the Avs:

"During the first period, we tried to play like the Russian Red Army team,'' Blues coach Andy Murray said. "During the last two periods, we played our game."

I really like watching the Blues but have absolutely no bred-in hockey knowledge, having grown up in Florida in the 70s and 80s when the only professional sports in America's dong was the University of Miami's football team. So I appreciate any help in parsing these kind of cultural references.

Go Blues!

Haslett has that thousand-yard stare of a man who has seen too much, and the curiously drawn mouth of a man who cannot talk about what he has seen. It's his job to keep the suffering inside, so that it doesn't hurt the rest of us. I picture this interview taking place in a dark shanty in Singapore, surrounded by shadowy nameless refugees of human failure.

Billy Devaney arrives in a sparkling white suit, no one knows how he has found Haslett but he has, and he's determined to bring the full light of judicial inquiry against him. But he sees some shred of humanity in Haslett's eyes, and decides to spare him the shame of the light of day, so he sits town to join Haslett in his den of hiding. However, Billy won't spare him the sharpness of his questions, and by the end they hurt almost as much to ask as to answer.

"Why did the Rams lose their last ten games?"

Haslett knows that this question was coming, but it is not the one he is running from. He looks up from his tankard of dark ale.

"We did a terrible job, all of us, the players and the coaches the same. But you're wrong about the losing. We didn't lose em all like that, all at once.

"The losing wasn't just one kind of losing. There's so many ways to lose in this game, and we nearly hit them all. Trying to coach up this team was like trying to hold a parachute up off the ground all by yourself. No matter if we got one corner up in the air, another would come collapsing down, and there was no use in getting mad because it was just its nature to fall.

"By the end of it, we damn near had it turned the right way. We were winning the battles on the field. We had our quarterback and his linemen awake and breathing God's air like a normal human being -- you don't know how much work that was all by itself, turning these corpses, these gutless boneless bags of shit and piss, back into players. And we had games that we'd won. We're winning these games, the turnovers, the scoreboard, we're winning 'em. Sure we ain't playing Ray Nietzche's Packers or nuthin but we're playing like an honest-to-goddamned football team and winning these last few games. Seattle. Frisco. Atlanna. The last one a playoff team..."

Haslett drains his tankard, and looks morosely into the bottom of it for several long seconds, then looks up again, focusing on the shiny new ribbon on the front of Devaney's uniform, signaling his promotion to the admiral's position of the St. Louis franchise. He turns and spits, but somehow doesn't convey disrespect in the gesture. He continues in a low guttural whisper.

"The last one a playoff team. But it was just foolish pride. It's nothing to win three quarters of a football game. It's nothing to look like a football team. That fourth quarter is the fiery hell that a man has to walk through head-up or get his soul burnt alive. And the secret.... the secret of the matter is that you can't do it alone. No man can, but each and every one of our lily-lovin sons a bitches would forget their fellows and try to win the goddamned game by themselves. A sorry bunch of free-lancing dandies we were in those final minutes."

Devaney picks up the thread, and asks:

"After that, how do you feel you can be successful as the team's head coach?"

Haslett's gaze burns a hole through Devaney's chest for a moment, then looks up with a dull gloss over his eyes. "I might be the only man who could. But who's sayin' I would want to?"

At this point, the matronly barmaid brings over a new ale for the coach, and gives Devaney a short questioning look. "Just a sparkling water, if you please, madam." She shrugs diffidently and walks away.

Devaney turns back to Haslett, his voice cold and clear, as he tries to clarify the testimony.

"So, many of the games featured a lopsided score by half-time, but down the stretch the Rams were blowing leads. How do you explain this?"

Haslett sneers, and says bitterly, "Look, I got one player who thinks he's goddamned Superman, John Wayne and John Shaft all rolled up into one. And the rest of my team believe him. When he's playing like a bat out of hell, these cheap followers suddenly gets some wind in their sails, you follow? But when it turns out that this guy gets a ding in his iron suit, he sits out four weeks in his fortress of damned solitude and the rest of the team gives up faster than the French in dubya-dubya-two.

"It wasn't their fault. Ain't a one of them has as much backbone as a snail. We tried whipping them like dogs, cursing them like whores, we even tried, god help us, some 'positive imagery.' " With this, he spits in disgust.

"None of it worked until Superman in gold tights got back on the field, and then we started playing those close ones that you saw. Buncha sheep, that's all. And the ones who actually have a sack ain't got the brains God gave a flea."

"Richie Incognito," says Devaney, knowingly.

Haslett nods his head slowly, then gestures across the table to an abandoned corner of the dimlit room, where a fish-fleshed heap of a man lies sprawled in his own filth, with what looks like a freshly tattooed obscenity on his forehead.

"I've never had an albatross of a player like that man there," he says, between long swallows. "I'd sooner marry my only daughter to the Devil himself, or to that coward Aaron Brooks even, than spend another minute trying to coach up that heap."

At the mention of the star-crossed former Saints quarterback, one of the stone-faced lumps at the bar looks up sharply, with shoulders hunched and a baleful glare, giving Devaney a shiver of horror. A blink later and the lump is contemplating his drink again and the white-suited admiral has to shake himself. Realizing that he sits surrounded by failure and misery, Devaney has to check the impulse at the animal center of his brain to turn heel and run as fast as he can.

"What players do you see as problems, or simply as unable to play at this level?"

"Look, all of 'em to a man can play some football, exceptin' some of the old men like Glover and Chavous. And that Bulger who might wake up 50 years old one of these days, who knows if he's got another season in him.

"All of 'em can play, and there's only a few out-and-out 'problems.' But ain't one of them takes a hit and got the spine necessary to sit up and ask for one more."

Haslett stands abruptly, shoving the table edge into Devaney's midsection as he arches toward him, and plants one raw-boned hand on the table and the other square in Devaney's chest. Each stares unblinking into the other man's face, then Haslett growls plaintively.

"If you want a coach, I... I'll be your coach. Just... just bring me some iron to work with."

He punctuates the statement with a slight head tilt and a pained smile, then straightens himself slowly. Turning toward the back stair, Haslett continues muttering into the shadows, "A man can't build what has no iron to build with..."