Forget the Remainder

The soap opera surrounding Jay Cutler – admit it, during the offseason lull some part of you loves it – casts a long shadow but it shouldn’t obscure the comparatively muted drama of Julius Peppers.

If Cutler represents potential, the promise to fulfill lofty yet familiar narratives, Peppers is further along that trajectory and at the same time something else entirely. He’s achieved that familiar greatness yet still brims with more to give the game.

Already established as the game’s most fearsome end, already racking up gaudy statistics, this is Peppers still not playing at the level he could play. This is Peppers confined by a system sapping his talents without maximizing them.

I’m of a few minds about Peppers, his ability, and his demands. On the surface, what Peppers wants is ridiculous. It’s not the trade demands. It’s not the short list of contenders.

Wanting out of the Carolina death trap is in some sense understandable. Malaise ruined Kris Jenkins's best years with the Panthers. Jon Beason and Chris Harris are some of the scary best at their positions, making for a hard hitting backcourt up the middle of the field. But Carolina manages to isolate those defensive talents, leaving them cast adrift in a sea of underachievement.

Wanting clear of such frustrating dysfunction is understandable for a player like Peppers, in his 29th year, at the peak of his athletic powers. What is strange is his desire to play the rush linebacker in a 3-4 system, like James Harrison, like Terrell Suggs, like Shawne Merriman. In some sense, the desire to switch systems is an acknowledgement by Peppers that he can offer the game even greater impact.

The price point aside – outside linebackers are often compensated less than defensive ends in any scheme – is the position change going to affect what Peppers is looking for? Namely, the maximization of his considerable talents?

When Bill Belichick fielded the question of Peppers translation to a 3-4, he dodged it by saying Julius would be successful in any system. For a player of Peppers’s size, 6’7” with a considerable wingspan, 285 sleek pounds, he could truly be a terror rushing at the quarterback hand off the ground, free to roam before the snap of the ball.

But, in run defense, Peppers size and strength make him an almost waste for the outside linebacker position. With the body and strength to fight off tackle/tight end double teams, flowing to the ball behind linemen is a redundancy.

Consider Peppers's main suitor mentioned in flirtatous whispers, that is New England. Belichick’s defense rests on discipline in its front seven. Lineman control two gaps upfront, linebackers respond to gap assignment based on the unfolding play, flowing to the ball, rushing the quarterback, or dropping back in coverage, according to predetermined reads.

Of course, we all know that Belichick’s success has stemmed from getting the most out of his players, whether Troy Brown or Randy Moss, Tedy Bruschi or Vince Wilfork. Belichick would adjust, sensing the possibilities in the larger game outside of his gameplans.

In that sense, the only way Peppers can truly be free is if he can be fortunate enough to find a coach who won’t contain his talent by a system. The list of such defensive geniuses in the NFL is short. Belichick, Rex Ryan at the Jets, Dick LeBeau at the Steelers, Steve Spagnuolo at the Rams, Jim Johnson at the Eagles… and potentially, here’s a curveball, Jim Bates now at the Buccaneers.

(Bates presided over Jason Taylor’s best years in Miami, letting Taylor freelance in his 4-3 system, in effect turning it into a hybrid 4-3/3-4 scheme. Bates has had a rough tumble around the league the last couple seasons, but with a defensive minded franchise like Tampa could be a good fit for Bates. And a piece like Peppers could provide a terrifying identity for a team in flux at the moment.)

Part of the problem is that the NFL isn’t about innovation, it’s about the best players playing each other. The structure of repeated battles are slow to change. In college, where talent varies wildly, innovation can render a significant strategic advantage. The returns are less, the risks greater in the pros.

A player like Peppers presents ability that can thrive in the NFL’s status quo. But that in turn masks reasons to alter the status quo to harness still uptapped abilities. Innovation in football often arises to disguise a deficiency like lack of size or speed. In this case, the inverse could reap great rewards, however counterintuitive to conventional football logic.

The local media paints Peppers as a quiet, keep-to-himself teammate. While the trade demand didn’t materialize out of thin air, it’s a bit out of character for a player that’s steered clear of making waves. My first reaction was a shaken head, worried that this discontent would turn out badly for both parties, Julius and the Panthers.

And it still might turn out badly, especially if Peppers doesn’t budge from his short list of trading partners. Peppers shouldn’t make the same mistake, painting himself into a corner with a new team or new position on the field, placing different but ultimately similar restrictions on his talent that led to this frustration in the first place.