Bob's your Information Minister
11-28-2005, 04:52 PM
Cunningham’s defense taking him back to the glory days
JOE POSNANSKI
Kansas City Star
This was why Gunther Cunningham came back to town. It wasn’t so he could run his own defense again. It wasn’t because he missed Kansas City. And it wasn’t because he wanted to make things right after being fired as the Chiefs’ head coach.
Sure, all of those things played into his thinking.
But no, if Cunningham had to give one reason why he came back to run the Chiefs’ defense after a heartbreaking farewell, he probably would give this scene from Sunday:
The Chiefs led the Super Bowl champion New England Patriots by 13 points. It was almost halftime. Third and long. The Patriots had the ball, and quarterback Tom Brady pointed at Chiefs defensive players and shouted something that probably sounded like, “Block him! Block him, too! Hey, I know that guy! Hey, look, John Candy! Whoa, look at that guy! Don’t let him hit me!”
Cunningham, standing on the sideline, waved his arms to get the Arrowhead crowd to get louder.
The crowd got louder.
He waved his arms more.
The crowd got louder still.
The ball snapped. Jared Allen — looking a whole lot like Derrick Thomas from another time — rocketed past New England left tackle Nick Kaczur. Allen dived at Brady’s feet. Sack. Arrowhead Stadium shook, like old times, and Allen ran to the sideline where Cunningham waited to hug him.
“Our attitude is, ‘Nobody is getting nothing on us,’ ” Allen says. “Nothing.”
If we each get our own personal heaven, well, this would be Gunther Cunningham’s heaven: an overcast day, a deafening Arrowhead Stadium, a Chiefs victory and a defense that believes that nobody is getting nothing.
This was why he came back. Cunningham looks back on his early days as coordinator for the Chiefs — particularly in 1995 and 1997 when the Chiefs had the NFL’s top-ranked defense — as the best time of his life. You can still see the far-off look in his eyes when he talks about those days and the way Arrowhead sounded, the way his defense blitzed Todd Collins four straight downs, the way it hounded John Elway, the 10 straight games the defense did not allow a second-half touchdown.
When he starts talking about the 1990s in Kansas City, Cunningham sounds a lot like Burt Lancaster in “Atlantic City” when he looks out over the water and says, “You should have seen the Atlantic Ocean in those days.”
See, Cunningham came back to relive the best days of his life. How many people get the chance to be the high school quarterback or the homecoming queen a second time? The trouble was, Cunningham soon realized that things in Kansas City were different. He came back to coach a struggling defense with much less talent than he had been led to believe. Last year, the Chiefs gave up points by the dozen. Arrowhead was as quiet as a church — it’s hard to cheer when the other offense is moving.
Cunningham nearly went out of his mind.
He pleaded with Chiefs GM/president/CEO/window smasher Carl Peterson to give him more talent. In the offseason, the Chiefs added a bunch of new defensive players. Cunningham tried to teach his Clinton-biography-sized playbook in a day and a half. And in the early weeks, not surprisingly, the defense did not look significantly better.
This time, though, Cunningham could feel that things were about to change.
“The problem with you guys,” Cunningham remembers telling his players during a practice before the second Oakland Raiders game, “is you don’t realize how close you are. You are too dumb to realize that we’re on the brink of being one of the dominant defenses in this league. I’ve seen it. We’re so close. Give me just a little more, and we’re going to tear up this league.”
Well, Cunningham says this kind of stuff all the time. But sure enough, the Chiefs’ defense held the Raiders to 263 total yards that week. The next week, at Buffalo, they were even better, holding the Bills to 209 yards. After utterly dominating Houston last week, the Chiefs suddenly were fifth in the NFL in rush defense. They had not allowed a 200-yard passer in almost a month.
Sure, Oakland, Buffalo and Houston are not good teams. But remember, before Cunningham came along, the Chiefs’ defenses were not discriminating. They gave up yards and points to everybody.
“We’re about to show the world,” Cunningham told friends and players before Sunday’s New England game.
Sunday, the defense showed. Sure, people can talk about how the Patriots were beat up and they’re not as good as the three New England teams that won Super Bowls, and yada, yada yada. All true. That was still Bill Belichick coaching, still Tom Brady passing (with the league’s fourth-best passing attack), still a champion coming into Kansas City in need of a victory.
And for most of the game, the Chiefs’ defense utterly overwhelmed New England. The Patriots had no running game. Brady threw four picks. The Chiefs sacked him three times. The Patriots managed 104 yards of offense in the first half. Brady had his worst statistical game in almost three years.
Belichick was left muttering: “We didn’t do a good enough job offensively, and we didn’t do a good enough job defensively. It wasn’t anything I’m not going to sit here and say it was or it wasn’t.”
You figure out that quote. It’s like NFL Sudoku.
The point is: The Chiefs needed a knockout. The Chiefs got a knockout.
Of course, the Chiefs’ defense will have to prove it all again this Sunday, against the 9-2 Denver Broncos. That’s the NFL. But for a day at Arrowhead, at least, it seemed like old times. Arrowhead rocked, the defense rolled, the Chiefs stayed in the playoff hunt.
And Gunther Cunningham was in heaven. He ran off the field pumping his fists. He left the stadium quickly to spend a few hours with family before getting back to work.
“After the game, he was more tired than we were,” Allen says. “And he was just on the sideline. That’s why we love playing for him. We give our heart. He gives his soul.”
JOE POSNANSKI
Kansas City Star
This was why Gunther Cunningham came back to town. It wasn’t so he could run his own defense again. It wasn’t because he missed Kansas City. And it wasn’t because he wanted to make things right after being fired as the Chiefs’ head coach.
Sure, all of those things played into his thinking.
But no, if Cunningham had to give one reason why he came back to run the Chiefs’ defense after a heartbreaking farewell, he probably would give this scene from Sunday:
The Chiefs led the Super Bowl champion New England Patriots by 13 points. It was almost halftime. Third and long. The Patriots had the ball, and quarterback Tom Brady pointed at Chiefs defensive players and shouted something that probably sounded like, “Block him! Block him, too! Hey, I know that guy! Hey, look, John Candy! Whoa, look at that guy! Don’t let him hit me!”
Cunningham, standing on the sideline, waved his arms to get the Arrowhead crowd to get louder.
The crowd got louder.
He waved his arms more.
The crowd got louder still.
The ball snapped. Jared Allen — looking a whole lot like Derrick Thomas from another time — rocketed past New England left tackle Nick Kaczur. Allen dived at Brady’s feet. Sack. Arrowhead Stadium shook, like old times, and Allen ran to the sideline where Cunningham waited to hug him.
“Our attitude is, ‘Nobody is getting nothing on us,’ ” Allen says. “Nothing.”
If we each get our own personal heaven, well, this would be Gunther Cunningham’s heaven: an overcast day, a deafening Arrowhead Stadium, a Chiefs victory and a defense that believes that nobody is getting nothing.
This was why he came back. Cunningham looks back on his early days as coordinator for the Chiefs — particularly in 1995 and 1997 when the Chiefs had the NFL’s top-ranked defense — as the best time of his life. You can still see the far-off look in his eyes when he talks about those days and the way Arrowhead sounded, the way his defense blitzed Todd Collins four straight downs, the way it hounded John Elway, the 10 straight games the defense did not allow a second-half touchdown.
When he starts talking about the 1990s in Kansas City, Cunningham sounds a lot like Burt Lancaster in “Atlantic City” when he looks out over the water and says, “You should have seen the Atlantic Ocean in those days.”
See, Cunningham came back to relive the best days of his life. How many people get the chance to be the high school quarterback or the homecoming queen a second time? The trouble was, Cunningham soon realized that things in Kansas City were different. He came back to coach a struggling defense with much less talent than he had been led to believe. Last year, the Chiefs gave up points by the dozen. Arrowhead was as quiet as a church — it’s hard to cheer when the other offense is moving.
Cunningham nearly went out of his mind.
He pleaded with Chiefs GM/president/CEO/window smasher Carl Peterson to give him more talent. In the offseason, the Chiefs added a bunch of new defensive players. Cunningham tried to teach his Clinton-biography-sized playbook in a day and a half. And in the early weeks, not surprisingly, the defense did not look significantly better.
This time, though, Cunningham could feel that things were about to change.
“The problem with you guys,” Cunningham remembers telling his players during a practice before the second Oakland Raiders game, “is you don’t realize how close you are. You are too dumb to realize that we’re on the brink of being one of the dominant defenses in this league. I’ve seen it. We’re so close. Give me just a little more, and we’re going to tear up this league.”
Well, Cunningham says this kind of stuff all the time. But sure enough, the Chiefs’ defense held the Raiders to 263 total yards that week. The next week, at Buffalo, they were even better, holding the Bills to 209 yards. After utterly dominating Houston last week, the Chiefs suddenly were fifth in the NFL in rush defense. They had not allowed a 200-yard passer in almost a month.
Sure, Oakland, Buffalo and Houston are not good teams. But remember, before Cunningham came along, the Chiefs’ defenses were not discriminating. They gave up yards and points to everybody.
“We’re about to show the world,” Cunningham told friends and players before Sunday’s New England game.
Sunday, the defense showed. Sure, people can talk about how the Patriots were beat up and they’re not as good as the three New England teams that won Super Bowls, and yada, yada yada. All true. That was still Bill Belichick coaching, still Tom Brady passing (with the league’s fourth-best passing attack), still a champion coming into Kansas City in need of a victory.
And for most of the game, the Chiefs’ defense utterly overwhelmed New England. The Patriots had no running game. Brady threw four picks. The Chiefs sacked him three times. The Patriots managed 104 yards of offense in the first half. Brady had his worst statistical game in almost three years.
Belichick was left muttering: “We didn’t do a good enough job offensively, and we didn’t do a good enough job defensively. It wasn’t anything I’m not going to sit here and say it was or it wasn’t.”
You figure out that quote. It’s like NFL Sudoku.
The point is: The Chiefs needed a knockout. The Chiefs got a knockout.
Of course, the Chiefs’ defense will have to prove it all again this Sunday, against the 9-2 Denver Broncos. That’s the NFL. But for a day at Arrowhead, at least, it seemed like old times. Arrowhead rocked, the defense rolled, the Chiefs stayed in the playoff hunt.
And Gunther Cunningham was in heaven. He ran off the field pumping his fists. He left the stadium quickly to spend a few hours with family before getting back to work.
“After the game, he was more tired than we were,” Allen says. “And he was just on the sideline. That’s why we love playing for him. We give our heart. He gives his soul.”