Coming Back Stronger (27 page)
The next week was one of those notorious games where you know on any given Sunday any team can beat any other team in the league. On paper it should have been a blowout. We were 8–0; the Rams were 1–7. But no team is entitled to a victory simply because they show up. Sure enough, as the game began, we weren’t clicking. Their offense did a great job retaining possession of the ball and keeping us off the field. It was an ugly first half, and after only four offensive possessions, we were tied 14–14 going in at the half.
In each game so far that season, it seemed like someone different would step up and create momentum for us. One week it would be a defensive stop; another time it would be a special teams play or a touchdown reception; and in another game a big run seemed to open the floodgates. But against St. Louis, things were just blah. The offense wasn’t flowing, and we needed a spark.
That spark finally came in the form of Courtney Roby and his ninety-seven-yard kickoff return. It was exactly what we needed to start the second half, and that run electrified our sideline. We led for the rest of the game, and at the end, when they had a chance to win, our defense held tough. We won 28–23.
It was certainly not a perfect game for us. Sometimes you have to grind your way through and find a way to win. They aren’t always pretty, but a win is a win is a win, as we like to say.
In the week leading up to the Tampa Bay game, the coaches put it on the line. Sure, we were 9–0, but our last few games were nowhere near the performances we’d had earlier in the season. It had been weeks since we’d put together offense, defense, and special teams in one game. Offense had been turning the ball over and getting off to a slow start. Defense had been giving up too much yardage. Special teams had a big play in St. Louis, but we needed more consistency. Tampa Bay was a big rival, and they didn’t fear us. If we wanted to win, we’d have to go in and play our most complete game of the season.
The Bucs went down on their first drive and scored seven points, but that was their last score for the rest of the game. Our defense forced four turnovers. Offensively it was a slower start again, but we finally got rolling and won the game 38–7. We’d finally put everything together again. Just in time too. We needed the momentum because New England was up next.
People around the country had been asking, “Can the Saints stand up to a really good team like the Patriots? Can they beat Brady and Belichick?” This team knew how to win. They’d proved that with four trips to the Super Bowl—and three World Championships—in the past decade. They had an excellent quarterback, a defensive guru as head coach, and great personnel all around. It was clear we’d need our best game to beat them.
They were 7–3, but they had experienced some tough breaks along the way. They’d been ahead seventeen points in the fourth quarter against the Colts, and then came the infamous fourth-down play in their own territory late in the game. Our record may have been better, but there was no question this was a tough team.
We didn’t need a motivational talk for this matchup. When the big games come around, we eliminate distractions and ignore the peripheral stuff, like the question of an undefeated season or the comparisons of Brees vs. Brady. More than anyone else, I knew this wasn’t about me or a quarterback rivalry. It was our team against their team, our offense against their defense. It also wasn’t responding to the media as they descended and tried to get us to give bulletin board quotes for the other team. “How are you going to stop Moss? Can they stand up to your receivers?” I understand they’re just doing their jobs, but my job is to try to focus and prepare and not say anything that could be used to motivate the other team.
Our first priority was turnovers. Period. We had to better take care of the ball on offense and do whatever we could to take away the ball on defense. We hammered away at those fundamentals. Even at 10–0, we felt like we still had something to prove. We wanted to show everyone that we belonged in the upper echelon of teams. We wanted respect, and the only way to get that was to earn it. And the only way to earn it that week was by beating the Patriots.
The night before a game, our team always gets a recap of the keys to victory and a motivational story or speech from Joe Vitt, our fiery and passionate assistant head coach. These moments with Coach Vitt have become legendary, from his talks about teams he has coached in his thirty-plus-year career to highlight clips from Rocky, Gladiator, Goodfellas, or our own season. On this occasion, Coach Vitt charged us to think about all the people in our lives who had brought us to where we were right then. He encouraged us to think about how much they’d taught us, believed in us, and loved us. There was a moment of silence as we all reflected on those individuals. Coach Vitt then said, “Guess what? They will all be watching you Monday night.” That set the tone, and we never looked back.
The first play of the game made a statement: I sent a deep ball down the sideline to Devery Henderson for a huge play. This was our night. We scored on all but one possession in the first half and continued the onslaught into the second half on our way to a 38–17 victory. We also set a club record for average yards per play, which may not seem like a big deal, but averaging ten yards per play is a ton. Our aggressive mind-set served us well as we put together a complete team performance, and it was also the game that finally caused people to believe in us. In their minds, we weren’t for real until we beat a team like the Patriots.
At that point in the season, there were two teams at 11–0: the Saints and the Colts. We were flying in the locker room. We knew we had achieved our goal for that week. But an emotional win on Monday sometimes means disaster on Sunday.
The Washington Redskins played an amazing game against us the next week. When you’re 11–0, you know every time you step on the field, you’re getting the opponent’s best because they would love to knock off the undefeated team. The scariest teams to go up against under those circumstances are those you think have nothing to lose. Teams that are out of playoff contention are often the most dangerous because this game is their Super Bowl.
Once we were past New England, it felt like we were in the homestretch. An undefeated season was within our grasp. But our coaches warned us in advance that the game in Washington would be hostile, cold, and physical. The Redskins would try to take away our perfect record. Sean emphasized that in some cases, like the New England game, the hill to climb wasn’t as steep as you’d originally thought. But he warned that this hill in Washington was going to be treacherous. He was right.
Almost immediately they went up 10–0. Another bad start. We came back and tied the score. Their offense stayed on the field and kept pushing, driving, and before we knew it, we were down by ten in the fourth quarter. We kicked a field goal to close the gap to seven. With the clock winding down, they had a chance at an easy twenty-three-yard field goal. The ball missed to the right. That would have sealed the game for them, but we now had an open window.
This was our moment to finish strong. It took us thirty-three seconds to drive eighty yards in five plays and score the tying touchdown. In overtime we recovered a fumble and hit an eighteen-yard field goal to end the game. We could finally let out a sigh of relief. We were undefeated in twelve games. We had finished strong.
A week earlier, people had been wondering if we could beat a team like the Patriots. Now they were saying the only team on our schedule that had a chance to beat us was the Cowboys. But Sean Payton was clear about Atlanta. Divisional games on the road are always tough. There are no gimmies, no matter what the team’s record or standing. The most important game of the season is always the next game.
All year we had been playing with confidence. When we walked onto the field, we felt like we were going to win. We believed somebody on our team was going to make a big play, and no one was sitting around waiting for it. We all wanted to be that person.
The game against the Falcons was pretty low-scoring by our standards. Our defense did a great job of holding them to field goals in the first half, but we didn’t get many opportunities offensively. At the beginning of the fourth quarter, we were tied 23–23. We drove down and kicked a field goal to take the lead, chewing up over eight minutes on the clock along the way. With a little over a minute to go, our defense came up with a big fourth-down stop. We took a knee and won the game 26–23. It was one of those wins we really had to sweat for. The kind that made us feel like we were being prepared for something. And maybe we were. Dallas was coming the next week.
Heading into the Dallas game, we had a lot going for us. We were 13–0, and they were 8–5. We had the home field advantage. And all week we’d been hearing about how poorly the Cowboys play in December.
But even with those factors in our favor, we knew how talented the Cowboys were. They also had something to prove from the game in 2006 when we went to Dallas on a Sunday night and beat them badly. Whatever the outcome of this game, it was possible that we could face them in the playoffs in the near future.
They took a 14–0 lead quickly, and it was 17–3 at halftime. In the third quarter they scored again, making it 24–3. We nailed two touchdowns in the fourth quarter to pull to 24–17. When their field goal attempt bounced off the upright with a little more than two minutes left, I thought we were on our way, just like in the Washington game. I was going to throw a Hail Mary, and then we would score and win in overtime. Instead, I got sacked and fumbled the ball. Time ran out.
The undefeated season dream was over, and we were all extremely disappointed. It was a tough day in the locker room because you don’t get many chances at perfection in the NFL. Only two teams have accomplished that feat in the regular season: the Patriots and the Dolphins. To go so far—three games shy of a perfect regular season—and come up short was a big blow. Now that dream was gone . . . and we’d lost to a rival team.
It was too early to throw in the towel, though. While we played and strove for a perfect season, that loss to Dallas might have been the best thing that could have happened to us in the long run. In many cases, disappointment is what prepares you to achieve greatness in the future. This loss also identified some glaring problems that had been swept under the rug for some time. You see, as long as you’re winning, you are much more apt to let the little things slide. Winning cures everything in our business. We were due for a wake-up call. There were too many little things that were beginning to catch up with us. Fundamentals and details were lacking on both sides of the ball and needed to be corrected. Whether it was a blocking scheme or a route concept on offense or a coverage scheme or a blitz adjustment on defense, we weren’t as sharp as we’d been earlier in the season. It was true that we had quite a few injuries and young players who were thrust into the lineup, but no excuses. Sometimes a loss allows you to recognize your weaknesses and make corrections, and in the end you’ll be better off for it.
Home field advantage was on our minds the next week against Tampa Bay. But we faltered again—this time in overtime. Going into that game we talked about our slow starts with Atlanta, Washington, and Dallas, so the coaching point was a fast start. We must have listened well because after three possessions, we were leading 17–0.
However, our offense would not score any more points that day. The Bucs, on the other hand, converted a field goal and two touchdowns to tie us with under three minutes to play in the fourth quarter. We drove down the field, and with time running out, we set up for a thirty-seven-yard field goal from the right hash mark. Garrett Hartley lined up for the game-winning kick, but his attempt sailed wide left. He was crushed. But the game came down to a lot more than that one play—we simply didn’t finish well. We went into overtime, and they won the coin toss, drove into our territory, and kicked a forty-seven-yard field goal. Game over. We lost, 20–17.
If you ever wanted to see a textbook case of “losing by inches,” this was it. There were three drives where we missed getting a first down by six inches or less. When you’re winning, certain things might go wrong, but you brush over them. Suddenly, those little things—those inches—were costing us games. This was the end of our season, when we were supposed to be peaking. We weren’t even close.
We played Carolina in the final game of the regular season. That game was supposed to determine home field advantage throughout the playoffs, but Minnesota had also lost their last two games and already had four losses, so we had the number one seed no matter what. Before the game Coach Payton called me into his office. I knew he would probably be asking me to sit out the last game to avoid any potential injuries, so Flutie’s mantra was running around in my head: “Never let your backup see the field.” But after we talked, it was clear to both of us that the best thing to do was to rest certain guys and for our team to get healthy and ready to go. We wanted all the weapons in the arsenal going into the first playoff game. I was excited to see Mark Brunell get to start under the circumstances. He deserved it.
We ended up losing to Carolina, 23–10. That brought us to three losses in a row to finish out the season—not exactly how you want to go into the playoffs. The questions started flying. “How are you guys going to be ready to play? Which Saints team is going to show up? Is it the 13–0 Saints? Or is it the team that finished 0–3?” It was true—we really hadn’t played a complete game in about five tries, going all the way back to New England. We also knew that the teams who tend to do the best in the playoffs are the ones on the rise. They’re hitting the playoffs on a five- or six-game winning streak as opposed to a three-game losing streak. But none of that was about to stop us. One of the strengths of our team is our ability to ignore the critics, disregard the media, and block out any distractions. We try to focus on the process and trust the plan.
One of my mentors, Tom House, calls me every Monday after a game—something he has done since 2006. It’s helpful to have someone who’s an outsider looking in, and almost without fail, he offers me one observation that hits the bull’s-eye. He called me after the Dallas loss and said something that stuck.
“Drew, sometimes you focus so much on the result that you lose track of the process. You’re thinking so much about winning, winning, winning that you forget the process it takes to win.” Tom said something else that took me a while to understand at first. “There are certainly times when you can care too little. But there are also times when you can care too much.”
Tom was right: we were putting too much pressure on ourselves. We had forgotten that the game of football is simple. Obviously you have to work hard and do whatever it takes to achieve your goals. But there’s a point where you have to relax. You have to trust what you’ve learned and put your confidence in the people who have put you in your position. Once you’ve prepared as well as you can, it’s time to relax and play. That releases the pressure to perform and allows you to be who you were meant to be.
There’s a saying I love that goes like this: “The will to win means nothing without the will to prepare.” In other words, you need to put as much emphasis on the process as you do on the result. It was time to get back to the basics and remember the process: one game at a time.
The message Coach Payton had for everybody was “Listen up, guys. Forget what everybody’s saying. The media is going to try to tell you that no team has ever lost the last three games of the season and then come back and won the first playoff game. They’ll give you every reason why resting players is the wrong decision. What you have to do is believe in what we’re doing and trust the plan and the process. We’re going to get our guys healthy and put ourselves in the best position to win the next game.”
It’s human nature at 13–0 to get carried away and somehow think we were entitled to make it to the Super Bowl. But that’s not how things work. We still had to take care of business, one game at a time. If we didn’t win the first playoff game, the whole season would have been for nothing. We had a sense of responsibility to prepare and get ready. It was time to block everything else out and focus on the here and now.
This time the here and now came in the form of the Arizona Cardinals.