Vikings' top players of the decade

So I'm back, moved in to my new apartment in Dallas, complete with the two most vital ingredients for keeping me sane:

1) Internet; and
2) Coffee

All is well.

What is a little troubling, though, is that the Dallas Cowboys are now 2-0 since I moved down here. Hopefully, they'll be 2-1 soon. But I'll worry about that later. For now, I'll stick with something easier. With the regular season over, I thought I'd use Pro-Football-Reference's Player Season Finder, I thought I'd look up the Vikings' top contributors during the 2000s. It'll be a fun look back at seasons past and some of the leaders might surprise people.

Passing Yards
1) Daunte Culpepper -- 20,162
2) Brad Johnson -- 4,635
3) Brett Favre -- 4,202
4) Tarvaris Jackson -- 3,643
5) Gus Frerotte -- 2,847

Passing TDs
1) Daunte Culpepper -- 135
2) Brett Favre -- 33
3) Tarvaris Jackson -- 21
3) Brad Johnson -- 21
5) Gus Frerotte -- 18

It's a sign of how much the QB position has been a revolving door since Culpepper left that Favre rates so highly on these lists after just one season. No other Vikings QB threw for more than 1,000 yards or 10 TDs in the decade.

Passing Interceptions
1) Daunte Culpepper -- 86
2) Brad Johnson -- 19
3) Tarvaris Jackson -- 18
4) Gus Frerotte -- 17
5) Brett Favre -- 7

And yet Favre ranks fifth on this list, one ahead of the immortal Spergeon Wynn. These are crazy times we live in.

Rushing Yards
1) Adrian Peterson -- 4,484
2) Michael Bennett -- 3,174
3) Chester Taylor -- 2,797
4) Daunte Culpepper -- 2,470
5) Robert Smith -- 1,521

Honestly, I was a little surprised to see AP at the top of this list, after just three seasons with the team. It's been an even longer road for the team to find a replacement for Robert Smith than it has been to find a replacement for Daunte Culpepper (which, admittedly, isn't over).

Receiving Yards
1) Randy Moss -- 6,416
2) Cris Carter -- 2,145
3) Sidney Rice -- 1,849
4) Nate Burleson -- 1,789
5) Jermaine Wiggins -- 1,659

Then again, it's been an even longer road to find a replacement for Randy Moss. Sidney Rice isn't exactly on his level, but in becoming the Vikings' first 1,000-yard receiver since Burleson in 2004, he's definitely the best we've had in a long time.

Touchdowns
1) Randy Moss -- 62
2) Adrian Peterson -- 41
3) Daunte Culpepper -- 29
4) Moe Williams -- 23
5) Chester Taylor -- 21

Moe Williams sighting! Visanthe Shiancoe is 6th with 19. Cris Carter owns the Vikings record with 110 TDs, something Peterson might already have his sights set on.

Points
1) Ryan Longwell -- 448
2) Randy Moss -- 374
3) Gary Anderson -- 275
4) Adrian Peterson -- 246
5) Daunte Culpepper -- 182

Just think: if we hadn't signed Ryan Longwell, Gary Anderson would probably still be kicking for the team...

Sacks
1) Kevin Williams -- 48.5
2) Lance Johnstone -- 41.0
3) Jared Allen -- 29.0
4) Ray Edwards -- 21.5
5) Chris Hovan -- 17.0

Amazingly, Chris Hovan is still in the NFL. Well, he's in Tampa Bay...

Interceptions
1) Darren Sharper -- 18
2) Antoine Winfield -- 15
3) Corey Chavous -- 14
4) Brian Williams -- 12
5) Brian Russell -- 11

Ex-Packers Sharper and Longwell lead two categories, and Brett Favre looks good in all the passing categories. I'm not sure what that says, other than nyah-nah-nah-nah-nah!

And finally...

Yards per punt
1) Chris Kluwe -- 44.40
2) Mitch Berger -- 44.21

Nobody else even managed 100 punts or 40 yards per punt in a Vikings uniform. Maybe they should have played more World of Warcraft.

Plusses and minuses of alternative stats

Warning: Shameless plug for a guy who says he likes my blog -- see, I can be bought for just a few kind words (dollars don't hurt, though)!

Looking over Luis's new QB rating system, as well as his article on the NY Times' Fifth Down, I like it and I get what it's saying but I find it -- I don't know, not confusing, per se, but complex. Which is, naturally, how any system to rank a quarterback is probably going to be, including both traditional passer rating and my system. But I tend to think of it as relatively simple. Is that because I made it myself and I'm intimately familiar with it? Without trying to sound boastful, I naturally think of my system is good, and not just because I spent hours coming up with it and think it's some sort of statistical masterpiece.

I feel that any new statistical measure, if it's going to achieve resonance with the masses, should be both 1) something the masses can compute with minimal effort and 2) something where they can get a concept of what the value means. By "something they can compute," I mean that it should be something the average fan could figure out, like third-down conversion rate in football or WHIP in baseball. My second point means that the value should have meaning; the fan should understand what they're looking at. Third-down conversion rate is just that, and needs no additional definition. So is WHIP; it's essentially how many baserunners a pitcher gives up in an average inning. Something like OPS is a little more squirrely, but if you know the component parts of it (OBP and SLG), you can say someone has a .900 OPS and get an idea that he probably has around a .400 OBP and .500 SLG, and you know what those mean.

Most quarterback rating systems fail the first test. Unless the formula is mind-bogglingly simple and involves very few variables, it's relatively indecipherable to the common fan. The second aspect -- comprehension of what the number means -- can be a little easier to wrangle. Traditional passer rating at least lets you think that a "100" is good, and people like round numbers. A lot of alternate QB systems (mine included) use some form of yards per attempt (including or not including sacks, interceptions, fumbles, TDs, and so on in some way) as their result and that, too, is something most people can grasp. (Passer rating has, I think, become mainstream simply because it was the first attempt to quantify the many aspects of a QB's stats.)

The other thing I tend to dislike about alternate statistical systems is any "imaginary" aspect, simply because, to me, it seems like mostly blind guesswork and highly subjective. Usually, these comes in the form of strength-of-schedule adjustments or, in the case of certain baseball stats like xFIP, what stats the player or team "would have" accumulated if he'd played with a league-average defense (or pitching staff or running game or whatever). Those are, IMHO, fun to look at, but are ultimately unreliable as definitive measures. I understand that Brett Favre's great numbers this season are due, in part, to his playing against a relatively weak schedule, but how good would he be against a league-average schedule? 95% as good? 80% as good? 71.6% as good. Nobody knows. It's just speculation, and I prefer to use "real" stats in my arguments, not guesses. If I can't tell where the numbers are coming from, the average fan probably can't either, and that's going to hurt the acceptance of any new stat. Any "imaginary" stat almost certainly fails point 1) (easy to compute) and 2) (understandability) -- and don't get me started on "intangibles."

This brings me to the subject of this post and something I almost always dislike seeing in any statistical system: negative numbers. They usually crop up in stats that try to say a player or team is better or worse than average and, in the process, fail both of my criteria for a stat that's "acceptable" to the masses:

1) Something the masses can compute. This may come as a surprise to us statheads, but, as someone who's comfortable with math and has had to work with people who aren't, the average joe has trouble working with negative numbers.

2) Something people can understand what it means. With very few exceptions (negative yardage comes to mind), all stats accumulate in the positive. What will someone understand better: that Adrian Peterson averages 4.7 yards per carry or that he averages +0.6 yards above average per carry? Both are true, but one is what actually happens in the game (he gains yardage) and one is just a stat (he gains more than the average back).

I might be wrong in all of this. Maybe the issues I have with "new" stats is just my issue and not something that most people have. The thing "we" -- meaning those of us who try to innovate with new stats and can understand how complex stats are computed -- sometimes get lost in our own heads and can't see how others wouldn't understand our glorious ideas. I'm not bashing anyone's stats, and I know my own ideas need refinement; rather, I'm typing all this because I think these are issues we'll all need to address if we want "our" stats to achieve widespread use. Maybe in a hundred years, passer rating, obtuse as it is, will fall out of vogue with football fans and some other system will supplant it as the standard by which quarterbacks are rated (wins notwithstanding). But it'll have to be something that's palatable not to statheads like us, but to Joe Six-pack.

What's in a typical drive?

This post is about drives in the NFL. So, naturally, I'll be closing it out by talking about baseball.

A few months ago, I wrote an article about the merits of "grinding it out" versus "airing it out." In that article, I made the assertion that "I read somewhere that the typical NFL game has about 10 drives per team. I'm too lazy to do any real research on that, but it seems about right."

Well, I decided to get over my laziness and see what I could find out, not only about how many drives a team tends to get, but what the results of those drives usually are. I also read somewhere that about 1/3 of drives result in scores for the offense (probably in some article espousing the merits of the current overtime system), and I wanted to see if that matched up, too.

So, with a lot of help from Pro-Football-Reference's 2008 season stats (and a little help from ESPN.com's 4th down stats), I simply added up every "drive-ending occurrence" I could find. I counted a "drive-ender" as any instance of a:

Rush/Receive Touchdown
Field Goal
Missed Field Goal
Lost Fumble
Interception
Safety
Turnover on Downs
Punt
Blocked Punt

What I didn't count:

* Touchdown returns, since those aren't "drives" for the offense

* End-of-half/game drives that didn't result in one of the other options (like a FG attempt). The main reason was because I didn't have stats for them. But I don't think this is a huge problem. These drives usually fall into one of two categories: non-attempts to score, like kneeldowns or "protect-the-ball" runs, which I have no problem omitting; and actual attempts to score by teams in desperation at the end of the game. These should be counted, but, each team probably only experiences a few drives like this per year; often, they turn it over on downs or have a turnover before the clock runs out. Only plays that fail to score a TD on the last play of the half on 1st-3rd down should be counted, and those are really relatively rare.

So, with that exception, I should have compiled the results of every drive in 2008. And the results are:

Drive	Number	Pct.
Touchdown	1122	20.4%
FG	845	15.4%
Missed FG	155	2.8%
Lost fumble	328	6.0%
Interception	465	8.5%
TO on downs	231	4.2%
Safety	21	0.4%
Punt	2307	42.0%
Blocked punt	13	0.2%
TOTAL DRIVES	5487
Drives per team	171.5
Drives per team/game	10.7
Scoring drives	1967	35.8%
"TO" drives	1213	22.1%

My early estimate -- that 1/3 of drives result in scores -- isn't too far off, as 35.8% of drives in 2008 resulted in either a touchdown or a field goal. But look at the last row. I count a "TO Drive" as a drive that ends in a very bad result for the offense: a turnover (fumble, interception, or downs), blocked punt, missed FG, or safety. In fact, your team has a better chance of bungling an offensive possession than it does of scoring a touchdown! 22.1% seems strangely high for me, but then again, I don't watch many Cleveland Browns games (ha!).

Bonus stat: The average drive scores its offense 1.89 points, if you count a safety as -2 points for the offense (and if you don't, it only raises the average by less than 1/100 of a point).

I'm also pretty close on my "10 drives per game" metric, although that 10.7 statistic would probably be pushed over 11 if it included those game-ending and half-ending drives I'm omitting. I also thought about baseball while putting this together. With 16 games in the NFL season and 162 in the MLB season, people often equate each game in the NFL to 10 MLB games, such as by saying that a three-game losing streak in the NFL is like a 30-game streak in MLB. When I was putting this together, I thought of the 10 drives/game concept and wondered if you could possibly equate each drive to an individual MLB game.

The answer is "yeah, if you're into that." With about 171 drives per season (maybe closer to 180 if we include the "invisible" drives), it's a fair comparison. And it makes one-game playoffs (which the Twins should be experts in by now) even more statistically dubious for their sample size. Imagine that two NFL teams finish with the same record on top of their division. Forget tiebreakers or even a tiebreaker game. We'll determine the division champion by giving each team one drive! It'll be just like a college football overtime game! I love what the Twins did on Tuesday night, but, in the grand scheme of things (especially when you consider how they won -- in extra innings with the lead flip-flopping back and forth), those two teams were identical in ability and the Twins got lucky, thanks to the results of an extremely small sample size.

I warned you there'd be baseball.

A not-quite-crisis of confidence

I still see plenty of opinions about the conventional wisdom that states that a good running game improves the passing game and vice versa, contradictory to what I observed in a couple months ago:

http://jasonwinter.blogspot.com/2009/06/can-brett-help-adrian.html
http://jasonwinter.blogspot.com/2009/06/brett-adrian-part-2.html
http://jasonwinter.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-cant-un-learn-things.html

Specifically (and against my better judgment), I've gotten into it a bit on a recent post on the Pro Football Reference blog. A commenter trotted out the following bits of wisdom:

1) You can't trust Tarvaris Jackson's numbers last year because of the small sample size; and
2) The Vikings' strong running game was responsible for Tarvaris Jackson's good numbers late in the season.

Note that that running game has been in effect for the last 32 regular season games and, by and large, Vikings quarterbacking has been mediocre to poor over that stretch, excepting the final four games of the 2008 season. So, T-Jack's numbers should be discounted due to a small sample size of games, but clearly the running game helps the team's quarterbacks -- which was only true for a small sample size of games. Eh?

But I'm not here to rag on a fellow commenter/blogger. Rather, I've been thinking about my theories the past few months and, while I still think they're mostly true, I can't help but shake some flaws with the analysis. They aren't necessarily deal-breakers, but they could show there's more to the interaction between running and passing than simple correlation.

As I've mentioned before, I'm no trained statistician or anything, just a football fan with a love of numbers and a willingness to challenge conventional wisdom. Maybe that'll get me in trouble someday, but until someone can come up with real, valid evidence to the contrary -- something more than "Well, it's obvious that a strong running game opens up the passing game, I mean, look at how much better quarterback X was when his team got running back Y!" which ignores all the times a quarterback doesn't improve when his running game improves -- I'll stick to my guns.

That said, here are some of the possibilities for why I might be wrong:

1) I'm looking at the wrong stats. Primarily, I use yards per carry and adjusted net yards per attempt, or an averaging stat for one (rushing or passing) versus a total yardage stat for the other (passing or rushing). Might be I'm comparing the wrong stats or, just as likely, I'm using the wrong tools to compare them.

2) Limitations on salary or coaching proficiency make it impossible to be great at both running and passing. Put simply, if you sink all your money into having a great running game -- a star back, big offensive linemen, a blocking tight end -- you're less likely to have anything left over to invest in quarterbacks and receivers. And some coaches might also just be better at engineering a great running game than passing game, or vice versa. This is the same concept that typically makes teams that are good on offense less likely to be equally good on defense, and it holds true for most major sports (hitting vs. pitching in baseball, offense vs. defense in basketball, etc.). My studies show that teams that run the ball well typically aren't exceptional at passing but maybe that's got less to do with there actually being a correlation from an in-game standpoint and more to do with the lack of ability (or funds) to construct a solid passing game.

3) Maybe there really is an effect, but it's undetectable. If you have the best running game in the league and the 20th best passing game, is it because there's no correlation between the two? Or is there a correlation and your passing game would be the 25th (or worse) best in the league without the strong running game? Using my Drew Brees-to-the-Vikings example, if Brees did take over at QB, maybe Adrian Peterson and Chester Taylor would have better years, but how would we separate Brees' effect on the running game from Peterson's, Taylor's, and the offensive line's normal development and improvement. I don't know.

I'd welcome anyone with strong analysis and the ability to use facts (instead of "conventional wisdom") to support or refute my arguments, because even I admit I feel a little tentative to expound my theories too loudly. But if you're going to disprove what I've written, at least try to be somewhat nice about it :)

A look into the past

Because the future looks grim.

In 2007, the #21 quarterback in passer rating was Damon Huard.

In 2007, the #30 quarterback in adjusted yards/attempt was Vince Young.

I'll leave it as an exercise for the reader to figure out who occupied those positions in 2008. Still want him on your team?

But, in an effort to talk about something, anything else...

I cleaned out my closet the other night and came across a few books I had forgotten about. Specifically, they're books of football and baseball essays written by the STATS Inc. crew last decade, delving into a wide range of topics, from the usefulness of the stolen base to the impact of rookie head coaches/managers to who has a chance to break Hank Aaron's home run record to whether you-know-who can break Dan Marino's records....it's a great list of topics to not only look back upon but, at least for me, to see where I think some of my earliest ideas about stats were formed.

The earliest book I have is the Stats Baseball Scoreboard 1994. I only started getting into baseball in 1991, so this was still pretty early in my development as a student of the game. I can see in it essays that shaped my early thinking and stick with me to this day. It's also cute to look back at how they feel the need to explain such esoteric things as "on-base plus slugging percentage" and "zone ratings"...and what the heck is a "hold"? (That's what I thought, at least, when I first read the book.)

The book shaped a lot of my early thoughts about some of baseball's most traditional concepts. One essay questioned who should be a lead-off man -- someone who's fast or someone who gets on base often? The essay titled "Why were John Olerud's 107 RBI last year better than Albert Belle's 129?" explains the concept of RBI as a function of RBI available, which, if you're going to count RBI for anything, should always be a consideration. And I loved the essay that showed that after a batter was hit by a pitch, the next batter would do better than if the pitcher had just given up a hit or a walk, thus indicating that a HBP doesn't intimidate the hitters as much as it intimidates the pitchers! Yet another reason not to hate the DH.

Some of the most entertaining entries are the ones where the writers attempt to divine the future, often using Bill James' Favorite Toy formula for predicting future statistical success. After 15 years, most of the predictions can be checked against facts.

* The Boston Red Sox article (each team has its own) was titled "Can [Roger] Clemens come back?" because he'd just had the worst season of his career in 1993. I'd say he did all right, even if HGH was involved.

* "Detroit Tigers: Is Cecil [Fielder] about to suffer a power outage?" said that "Fielder may not hit 50 home runs again, but a return to 35 or more is a good possibility." He'd top that 35 mark just once again in his career, hitting 39 in 1996.

* The Minnesota Twins' article used the Favorite Toy to determine Kirby Puckett's chance at reaching 3,000 career hits. At 30.7%, he trailed only Eddie Murray (who had 2,820 at the time) among active players. Obviously, that didn't work out, thanks to Dennis Martinez. Other players with at least a 10% chance of achieving the feat included Ken Griffey Jr. (26.9%, currently 2,692), Cal Ripken (21.7%, 3,184), Tony Gwynn (14.9%, 3,141), Frank Thomas (13.1%, 2,468), and Paul Molitor (11.0%, 3,319). Thomas and Molitor ranked behind Travis Fryman, of all people, who had a 14.1% chance after accumulating 570 hits by the age of 25. He finished with 1,776.

* The Favorite Toy also gives several players a good chance at hitting 500 or more home runs. Among them are Juan Gonzalez (53%, 434 career homers), Griffey (40%, 613), Barry Bonds (36%, 762), Fred McGriff (25%, 493), Thomas (23%, 521), and Albert Belle (16%, 381). Five players are given a better than 5% shot at 600 (Griffey at 20.5% and Bonds at 13% are the only ones to do it), and thinks highly enough of Juan Gonzalez to give him an 11.4% chance (and Griffey a 2.9% chance) to break Hank Aaron's record of 756. By comparison, Bonds is given an essentially zero chance to achieve the feat (technically negative 2%, which shows why the Favorite Toy is just that -- a toy).

* "Atlanta Braves: Have they started a pitching revolution?" opines that the Braves are changing the way starting pitchers are used because they rarely let their guys go more than 130 pitches per game, with only four such outings for Braves pitchers in 1993. 130!

The book also discusses the possibilty of interleague play (saying it "will always have some appeal"), four years before Major League Baseball implemented the concept, and askes "Can anyone win 300 again?" ("We think that at least one active pitcher will win 300 before he's through, and maybe more than one.") It's a fascinating look back at what we thought then and what we think now and how the two are at once both the same and divergent.

Over the next few weeks, I'll leaf through the 1998 Baseball Scoreboard and the 2000 Pro Football Scoreboard and dig out the juicier bits. Because I'm sure you can't wait for the answers to such pressing questions as "Will Curtis Martin's workload catch up to him?" and "How will [Darryl] Kile pitch at Coors?" The answers, of course, are "Not for a while" and "Awful," but it's still interesting to see that, even 10 years ago, a little analysis and logic could get you to the same conclusion.

Do you have to draft a QB high?

One of the topics (or, more accurately, one of the many tangents) of the most recent Pro-Football-Reference.com podcast was about the subject of "star quarterbacks" predominantly coming from very high (i.e., primarily first-round) draft picks and how teams can best find their quarterbacks. Says JKL around the six-minute mark:

The best option, I think, is to go for the elite talent at the top of the draft...Yeah, there are busts, but the upside there is just too great.

Recent busts -- Ryan Leaf, Tim Couch, Cade McNown, et al -- are well known, as are the success stories, like Peyton Manning, Donovan McNabb, and Ben Roethlisberger. But are they absolutely necessary? Do you have to pick a QB at the top of the draft to succeed? After all, if you don't pick a QB with your top pick, you're picking another (probably very good) player. And even the most jaded QB-loving fan would probably admit that quarterbacks tend to be a touch overvalued and definitely overdrafted.

So, where do starting quarterbacks come from? I compiled a list of starting quarterbacks* in 2008, what round they were drafted in, and whether they were with their original teams -- in other words, a first-round pick playing for a team that he wasn't drafted by didn't help his original team in 2008, so, in a sense, that team's first pick was a "bust."

* Here's the rub, though...rather than try to pass off guys like Ryan Fitzpatrick and Ken Dorsey as "starting quarterbacks," I defined each team's "starting quarterback" by the following two rules. He is:

A) The guy the team would have started if there had been a week 18; and
B) The guy the team would have started if healthy.

Point A lets me not worry about subsequent free-agent moves, trades, retirements, and so on. Point B lets me take the guy who "should" be the starter for the team (like Tom Brady over Matt Cassel) rather than a guy forced into the role. Here's the list:

Team	Quarterback	Round	Orig. Team?
Baltimore Ravens	Joe Flacco	1	Y
Oakland Raiders	JaMarcus Russell	1	Y
Philadelphia Eagles	Donovan McNabb	1	Y
Atlanta Falcons	Matt Ryan	1	Y
Pittsburgh Steelers	Ben Roethlisberger	1	Y
New York Giants	Eli Manning	1	Y
Denver Broncos	Jay Cutler	1	Y
Washington Redskins	Jason Campbell	1	Y
Cleveland Browns	Brady Quinn	1	Y
San Diego Chargers	Phillip Rivers	1	Y
Cincinnati Bengals	Carson Palmer	1	Y
Green Bay Packers	Aaron Rodgers	1	Y
Indianapolis Colts	Peyton Manning	1	Y
Detroit Lions	Daunte Culpepper	1	N
Miami Dolphins	Chad Pennington	1	N
Tennessee Titans	Kerry Collins	1	N
Minnesota Vikings	Tarvaris Jackson	2	Y
New York Jets	Brett Favre	2	N
Houston Texans	Matt Schaub	2	N
New Orleans Saints	Drew Brees	2	N
Buffalo Bills	Trent Edwards	3	Y
Chicago Bears	Kyle Orton	4	Y
Jacksonville Jaguars	David Garrard	4	Y
New England Patriots	Tom Brady	6	Y
St. Louis Rams	Marc Bulger	6	N
Seattle Seahawks	Matt Hasselbeck	6	N
Kansas City Chiefs	Tyler Thigpen	7	N
Dallas Cowboys	Tony Romo	U	Y
San Francisco 49ers	Shaun Hill	U	N
Carolina Panthers	Jake Delhomme	U	N
Arizona Cardinals	Kurt Warner	U	N
Tampa Bay Buccaneers	Jeff Garcia	U	N

Of the starting quarterbacks for the 32 NFL teams:

16 were first-round draft picks
19 are with their original teams
13 are "1Y" players -- first-round picks with their original teams

So, that means that 13 of 32 teams in 2008, or about 41%, found their "starting quarterback" by drafting him in the first round. That's a solid percentage, but maybe not enough to be considered as the "only" way to do it.

What about the quality of these quarterbacks, at least as compared to the later-drafted quarterbacks? The only 1Y I see on the list who might have competition next year is JaMarcus Russell. Matt Ryan and Joe Flacco could be one-year wonders, granted, but everyone else is pretty firmly entrenched as their team's starters. The list of non-first-rounders includes a Hall-of-Famer (Brett Favre), a potential Hall-of-Famer (Tom Brady), two of the best quarterbacks of 2008 (Drew Brees and Kurt Warner), and a slew of former or current Pro Bowlers and overall above average QBs (Matt Hasselbeck, Jake Delhomme, Jeff Garcia, Marc Bulger, Tony Romo). Overall, if I had to choose who the best QBs are on the list -- the first-rounders or the non-first-rounders -- I'd probably give the first-rounders the edge, but only barely.

This ignores the fact that there are two more notable 1Y players (Matt Leinart and Vince Young) lurking around who could be their team's primary starters very soon, depending on how the former first-rounder (Kerry Collins) and undrafted free agent (Kurt Warner) ahead of them play out. I also haven't taken draft position into account -- there might be a difference between being the #1 overall pick and the #23 overall pick (Brady Quinn). And, admittedly, this is a one-year sample size, though I have conducted a similar exercise, just for fun, the last few years. The list of starting quarterbacks hasn't changed too much, so it's always been around 1/2 first-rounders. Maybe I'll glance back ten years or so in a future post.

In any case, my conclusion is that, while it's not a bad idea to take a Matthew Stafford or Mark Sanchez early in the draft if your team needs a franchise QB, I don't think it's absolutely vital either. As with any position, good -- even great -- players can be found later in the draft, and quarterbacks probably aren't an exception to that rule.

Flagging myself

"The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry."
-- Robert Burns

Please excuse the pseudo-intellectual literary opening, but I've had this blog post rattling around in my head for a few weeks, ever since I came upon a startling discovery -- or so I thought.

I've been having fun with correlations lately. In a nutshell, when you try to correlate two sets of statistics -- say, offensive yardage and wins -- you come up with a number between -1 and 1. If your number's close to -1, you'd say there's a negative correlation between the two -- in my example, that would mean that the lower your offensive yards, the more wins your team will get (which we'd all agree to be false). If the number is close to 1, you'd have a positive correlation. In this case, we'd say that high offensive yardage totals tend to produce teams with more wins (which we'd figure to be true). If the result is near zero, then there's minimal or no correlation between the two stats.

You can have all sorts of fun with correlations and, thankfully, Excel makes them easy to compute. You might remember these two posts from last summer, where I tried to figure the correlation between rushing average and raw passing yards, along with passing average and raw rushing yards. My results were inconclusive and, the CORREL() function in Excel bears that out. Over the sample size that I used, passing yards correlates to rushing average at -0.096 and rushing yards correlate to passing average at 0.129. Both are essentially insignificant.

So, awash with glee at the new toy I found, I decided to see if I could find any other statistical connections that everyone "knows" that I could disprove. I immediately went to penalties. After years of watching John Randle (and now Kevin Williams) jump offsides seemingly every defensive series, I wanted to see how badly penalties hurt a team. In theory, if penalty yards significantly hurt a team, then we should see a high negative correlation between penalty yards and wins.

The early results: not so much. Here are what I got when I tried to find the correlation between penalty yards and wins over the last three seasons:

2008: 0.021
2007: -0.067
2006: -0.081
06-08: -0.043

That's not so damning, then, is it? The correlation between penalty yards and wins from 2006 to 2008 is virtually nil. Obviously, big penalties at crucial times, like that late pass interference call, or a defensive hold on the game-winning drive that lets a team convert a third-down, are huge, but, in the grand scheme of things, maybe being 1st-and-20 after an offensive holding call early in the second quarter isn't such a big deal. Take a look at the penalties stats page on ESPN.com and you'll see some of 2008's best teams -- like Dallas, Tennessee, and the NY Giants -- near the top of the list in penalty yardage, while some of the worst -- like Cincinnati and Seattle -- near the bottom. There's definitely no clear correlation, at least for 2008.

So here I was, all ready to come out with a bunch of theories as to why this was so, as to why penalties really had little effect on a team's performance. First, though, I thought I'd expand my research and take it back three more years, from 2003-2005, just to have a bigger sample size. Here's what I got:

2005: -0.266
2004: -0.259
2003: -0.280
03-05: -0.262

Whaaa?

A correlation of -0.262 is still not huge, but it's a good deal larger than -0.043, and could be considered at least mildly significant. By comparison, another pair of stats you'd expect to have a significant negative correlation -- offensive turnovers and wins -- clocks in at -0.435 for 2008.

That pretty much sunk my post and all the ideas I had regarding the minimal impact of penalties. Still, I think the data shows that penalties are not quite as catastrophic as most people would have you think (especially over the last three years) and some of my original theories still probably hold.

Especially in the John Randle/Kevin Williams examples, good defensive lineman try to anticipate the snap count. Sometimes this results in offsides, other times it results in great jumps that disrupt the offense. Similarly, as they say, "offensive holding occurs on every play," and it might be that the good O-linemen have figured out how to hold without getting caught, while the bad ones don't even attempt it and thus are flagged less often (while also being bad). And, not that they ever call offensive pass interference except about once a month, but every "good, physical" receiver pushes off at least a few times a game. Now the "dumb" penalties -- personal fouls, 12 men on the field, and so on -- have nothing to do with gaining an advantage or are the result of canny play and should clearly be avoided. But the rest might not be quite so bad.

Finally, I think that penalties have less of an impact on a game than people tend to give them credit for. In 2008, the typical team had 89.6 penalties called against it, or about 5.6 per game. Each team was involved in an average of 123.75 plays per game (not counting special teams), so that means a penalty was called on a team on less than 4.5% of its plays -- and maybe less than 4% if you include special teams in the mix. Yes, it sucks to have that bad penalty at a crucial time, but is 1st and 15 after a false start really that horrible? If you convert the first down anyway, the penalty was essentially meaningless. If anything, maybe coaches should save those timeouts for delay of game more often. And maybe fans shouldn't get quite as riled up about their players making a penalty that gives the other team free yards.

Doesn't mean I won't shout at the TV the next time Kevin Williams jumps offsides.

2008 QBs rated by TYA

You might recall that, last year, I came up with a new method of rating quarterbacks (detailed here, here, and here). I feel even more confident in the system now than I did back then, and I'll get into the reasons for my confidence in a later. For now, here are the leaders in Total Yards per Attempt (TYA) for 2008, among QBs with at least 260 attempts:

Rank	Quarterback	TYA	PR Rank
1	Philip Rivers	6.60	1
2	Drew Brees	6.52	4
3	Chad Pennington	6.39	2
4	Peyton Manning	6.19	5
5	Jake Delhomme	5.86	18
6	Kurt Warner	5.82	3
7	Matt Ryan	5.80	11
8	Jay Cutler	5.80	16
9	Jeff Garcia	5.55	9
10	Aaron Rodgers	5.51	6
11	Matt Schaub	5.49	7
12	Donovan McNabb	5.46	14
13	Tony Romo	5.23	8
14	Matt Cassel	5.19	10
15	Kerry Collins	5.18	23
16	Seneca Wallace	5.11	13
17	Eli Manning	5.10	15
18	Jason Campbell	4.90	19
19	Trent Edwards	4.83	17
20	Shaun Hill	4.76	12
21	David Garrard	4.66	20
22	Tyler Thigpen	4.57	27
23	Kyle Orton	4.56	25
24	Dan Orlovsky	4.28	30
25	JaMarcus Russell	4.23	26
26	Joe Flacco	4.17	22
27	Ben Roethlisberger	4.03	24
28	Brett Favre	3.91	21
29	Gus Frerotte	3.83	28
30	Marc Bulger	3.81	31
31	Derek Anderson	3.24	33
32	JT O'Sullivan	3.12	29
33	Ryan Fitzpatrick	2.94	32

"PR Rank" is the quarterback's ranking in passer rating, among the 33 quarterbacks listed.

Remember that TYA is

(Passing Yards + Rushing Yards - Sack Yards + 10*TD passes + 10*Rushing TDs - 45*Interceptions - 30*Fumbles)

divided by

(Pass Attempts + Rush Attempts + Sacks)

In effect, it's (QB yards)/(QB attempts), assigning 10 points per touchdown, -45 per interception, and -30 per fumble. I know the PFR guys like giving out 20 yards for a TD pass, and I've heard somewhere that a lost fumble should be worth -50 yards, making my 2/3 guess closer to -33 than -30, but for now, I'll stick with what I've got.

If you want the rationale for why I assign all these yardages to quarterbacks (and especially if you want to argue with it), I suggest you read the other posts, linked to above. What it boils down to is, if we want to fully credit a quarterback with a 50-yard TD pass, when it's obvious the receiver and blockers had something to do with it, too, why should we be hesitant to fully assign him the blame for a sack, too?

For these 33 quarterbacks, the average TYA is 5.04, making the Eli Manning/Jason Campbell area the cutoff for above or below average. As seems to be a trend, quarterbacks with bad rushing numbers and high fumble totals (Kurt Warner is the poster boy) are hurt more by this system than QBs with good rushing numbers are helped. Again, I'll go more into that on a later date.

A notable big riser in this listing is Jake Delhomme, who vaults up from the #18 spot in passer rating to #5 in TYA. That's no doubt helped by his high raw yards per attempt (7.9, fourth in the league) and no egregiously bad "negative" numbers (12 interceptions, 20 sacks, and 5 fumbles). Also, note how close the 5-8 guys are lumped together. One more pick for Jake and he would drop to a 5.76, or 8th place. Also, other than Warner, who had 18 carries, everyone in the 7-15 spots (yes, even Kerry Collins) had more carries than Jake, and that'll bring down your rating.

The biggest drops from passer rating to TYA belong to Tony Romo -- whose 13 fumbles did him no favors -- and Brett Favre, who led the league in interceptions, had double-digit fumbles (10), and averaged a mere 6.7 raw yards per pass attempt, 22th in the league. My advice: Stay retired.

Then there are the three quarterbacks the Vikings employed this season, only one of which met the minimum requirements for these rankings. "Three?" you say. Well, that's how I see it:

* Tarvaris Jackson (I): 3.74
* Gus Frerotte: 3.83
* Tarvaris Jackson (II): 5.88

"Late-season" Tarvaris Jackson seemed to be a very different player from "early-season" Tarvaris Jackson. Overall, for the season, Jackson had a TYA of 5.02, right around the league average. Perhaps it makes sense that he finished the year with a TYA right next to that of Eli Manning, who was actually worse against the Eagles defense in the playoffs than Jackson was (and nearly a full yard worse than Kurt Warner, who was, shall we say, a tad better against that defense). Gus Frerotte, meanwhile, is still Gus Frerotte.

A few other notable non-qualifying passers and their TYAs:

* Daunte Culpepper: 2.45
* Brady Quinn: 4.84
* Sage Rosenfels: 4.64
* Matt Hasselbeck: 3.08; I've heard a few people say we should go after Matty H. He'll be 34, he's coming off an injury-plagued season, and as for the injuries to his wide receiver corps bringing down his numbers, check out Seneca Wallace, above.

More receiver talk (OMG Steve Smith!)

I knew something was bugging me about my receivers post from last week, and I think I may have figured it out.

I mentioned that play calling and offensive scheme would have a lot to do with a receiver's total yardage, and that makes sense. A receiver on a team that throws 600 times will have more opportunities for catches and yardage than one who plays on a team that throws 500 times. So I decided to add that wrinkle to my receiver rankings. What follows is the list of the top 25 receivers in the NFL in 2008, ranked by receiving yards divided by team pass plays (pass attempts + sacks):

	Receiver	Yards	TPP	Yds/TPP
1	Steve Smith	1421	434	3.27
2	Roddy White	1382	451	3.06
3	Andre Johnson	1575	587	2.68
4	Calvin Johnson	1331	561	2.37
5	Greg Jennings	1292	575	2.25
6	Derrick Mason	1037	466	2.23
7	Vincent Jackson	1098	503	2.18
8	Larry Fitzgerald	1431	658	2.17
9	Muhsin Muhammad	923	434	2.13
10	Antonio Bryant	1248	594	2.10
11	Wes Welker	1165	582	2.00
12	Brandon Marshall	1265	632	2.00
13	Lee Evans	1017	517	1.97
14	Bernard Berrian	964	495	1.95
15	Reggie Wayne	1145	599	1.91
16	Santana Moss	1044	548	1.91
17	Hines Ward	1043	555	1.88
18	Tony Gonzalez	1058	578	1.83
19	Terrell Owens	1052	578	1.82
20	Dwayne Bowe	1022	578	1.77
21	Donald Driver	1012	575	1.76
22	Randy Moss	1008	582	1.73
23	Michael Jenkins	777	451	1.72
24	Braylon Edwards	873	512	1.71
25	Zach Miller	778	460	1.69

What more needs to be said about Steve Smith? Playing on the team with the fewest pass plays in the league (434), Smith was #3 overall in yardage (10 behind #2 Larry Fitzgerald) and is only one of two receivers to top the 3.00 mark, just ahead of Atlanta's Roddy White, who played for the team with the second-fewest pass plays. The actual leader in yardage, Andre Johnson, comes in third. Meanwhile, the only 1,000-yard receivers to not make the list, Anquan Boldin and Steve Breaston, both played for the pass-happy Cardinals and barely broke the 1,000-yard barrier; in that offense, even Troy Williamson might have managed 500 yards.

This system's got its obvious flaws. It doesn't count QB scrambles that start out as pass plays, and no receiver is on the field for every pass play. Technically, the ranking should be receiving yards divided by team pass plays when the receiver was in the game. I don't have any way of finding out that data, though, and it especially hurts guys like Boldin, who missed time due to injury and, unbelieveably, Steve Smith(!), who was suspended for his team's first two games. Seeing that the Panthers called 66 pass plays in those games and subtracting those from the team's 434 pass attempts, you can credit Smith with an astonishing 3.86 yards/TPP, or a full yard-plus better than every other receiver in the league but one! And living in Charlotte and having watched a good number of Panthers games this year, I'll tell you that covering the man makes no difference.

The only other thing I considered was whether using team passing yardage instead of team pass plays would be a better denominator, but I decided against it partially because I wanted something that "looked" more like a running back's yards per carry stat and a little like a receiver's yards per reception. Nobody rates running backs based on their rushing yardage as compared to their team's rushing yardage.

So again, you can take or leave this stat which says that, this year at least, Randy Moss wasn't much better than Zach Miller. But if Zach Miller's team had thrown another 122 passes, to get them even with Moss's squad, their final numbers might have wound up a lot closer.

Rambling about receivers

This is the point where I should probably talk about how Green Bay found a way to screw over Minnesota fans one last time this season by failing to beat the Bears on Monday night. I could go over the various playoff possibilities for the Vikings, but they're so straightforward that everyone should already know them (we win or Chicago lose = we're in). I could bring up that the Giants have nothing to play for this weekend and so might rest some of their starters this weekend against Minnesota. Or I could...

Well, I think that pretty much sums it up, Viking-wise. And based on what we, as Viking fans are used to getting from our team when they're expected to do well, I'm not really in the mood for speculation at this time. For all that Chicago Cubs fans moan (and White Sox and Red Sox fans used to moan), you have to admit that the Vikings could lay a claim to most cursed team in professional sports. At least the Cubs have won a World Series, even if it was back in 1908.

No, instead of all that, I'm going to propose a theory that's probably not correct, that's not backed by any real research, but is just wacky enough that it might just be (somewhat) correct. It's a long ride, and it does get a bit rambly, so strap yourself in.

A friend and I were talking a few weeks ago about what stats "really" determines how good a football player is. It's 2008, and we all "know" that something as simple as passing yards or passing TDs, or even passer rating, doesn't tell us everything about how good a quarterback is. Nor does raw rushing yards tell us everything about a running back -- at some point, you have to figure yards per carry and probably receiving stats into the mix. Similarly, the best defensive player isn't just the one who accumulates the most sacks or tackles or interceptions.

Then we came to wide receivers. Who's the "leading receiver" in the NFL? What is "the stat" that determines how good a wide receiver is? After thinking about this for a while, I came up with a so-simple-it-can't-be-true answer:

Receiving yards. That's it. End of story.

Now, I know it's probably wrong, but hear me out. First of all, I understand that receiving yards for a receiver are heavily dependent on the rest of his team, especially his quarterback and the team's play calling. A WR playing for New England is going to get more yards than one playing for Minnesota. Fine. And I'm not taking into account downfield blocking or other intangibles like leadership -- this is strictly a question of "What's the best stat to measure wide receivers." But, all other things being equal, a guy with 1,500 receiving yards is more valuable than one with 1,200, regardless of number of receptions, touchdowns or anything else like that.

Here's how I came to that realization. First, I looked at the other main ways we usually rate wide receivers:

Receptions. Bad because it doesn't take into account the length of the pass. It's easier to rack up lots of catches when you're only running five-yard routes. Do you really think Mike Furrey (98 catches, 1,086 yards) was a great receiver in 2006?

Yards per reception. Apart from being a rate stat (which is subject to variations based on sample size), this has a lot of the same problems as receptions, but on the other side; it's way too dependent on the length of passes being thrown your way.

Touchdowns. Extremely volatile and only more dependant on field position than anything.

Third-down conversions. Similar to touchdowns in situational basis and only a factor less than one-third of the time. Plus, really, does anyone think the guy who leads in third-down conversions is the best receiver in the league?

OK, so now I've cast some negative light on other typical stats, but why focus on raw receiving yardage? After all, I said above that the league's leading rusher, yards-wise, shouldn't automatically be considered the best running back in the league. The best example of this is the 1989 NFL. Christian Okoye led the league that year with 1,480 rushing yards. Barry Sanders was #2 with 1,470.

But here's the rub: Okoye accumulated his yards in 370 carries. Sanders had exactly 100 fewer carries, 270. Does anyone doubt that if Barry Sanders gets another 100 carries, he somehow manages an extra 11 yards to pass Okoye?

So, let's come up with a similar situation using wide receivers. Suppose Jerry Rice has 1,480 yards on 100 catches. In the same season, Don Hutson (remember, this is fictitious!) has 1,470 yards on 90 catches. I immediately declare Rice better.

"But wait!" you say. "If Hutson had 10 more catches, surely he'd make up those 10 yards on Rice!" And I say you're correct. But -- and here's the big difference between a wide receiver and a running back -- why didn't Don Hutson get those 10 catches?

Again, we can point to the different teams, different personnel, different philosophy...yes, those are all important. But again, we'll make the wild assumption that Rice and Hutson played under essentially the same conditions. If the difference between Hutson's and Rice's stats were completely dependent on their ability and their ability alone, why do I declare Rice to be better?

And the answer is simple. If Hutson would have racked up bigger numbers by hauling in 10 more passes, the only reason he didn't catch those 10 passes was because he failed to catch them. Why did he fail? Maybe he ran a bad route. Maybe he didn't get open. Maybe he dropped them. Maybe he was hurt and missed a game or two.

Now, go back to our Okoye/Sanders comparison. When Detroit or Kansas City called a running play that year, they knew who was going to get the ball: Okoye or Sanders. There was no choice involved. Yes, Detroit's play calling resulted in 100 fewer attempts for Sanders, but when the call was made, it was his play, 100%.

Now, consider when my fictional San Francisco or Green Bay team calls a pass. The play might be designed to go to Rice or Hutson, but sometimes that player won't get the reception, for any of a number of reasons, mentioned above. And just catching the pass isn't all you're supposed to do, most of the time. Accumulating yardage (before or after the catch) is just as important. Just before a handoff to Barry Sanders, Rodney Peete didn't just up and decide, "You know, I think I'm not going to hand it to him. There's no hole in the line, so I'll pass it instead. Or maybe run it myself." (Then again, maybe the current Detroit Lions could use some creative play-calling like that.)

The point of an offensive player is to score touchdowns, and the way to do that is to advance the ball down the field (ideally to the end zone on every play). While a running back will automatically get the ball on plays called to him and even a quarterback will accumulate some stats (even if just an incompletion) on every passing play, a receiver's stats are never guaranteed. His ability to gain yardage is dependent, yes, on his teammates and the offensive scheme, but also on his ability to accumulate those stats.

I said earlier that I really don't think my analysis is completely and factually correct, but it's an interesting way to think a little crossways at a traditional issue. And it's nearly Christmas, so I feel like I can be a little wacky juse once a year. If you don't agree, then "Bah, humbug" to you.

Running the numbers, week 6

Twice last year, after week 4 and week 11, I ran a little analysis of how teams were doing with the run vs. the pass and how much their play calling suited their strengths. In other words, if I found that a team was averaging significantly higher yardage through the air, I reasoned that they should be calling more pass plays to take advantage of that. If they were averaging a lot on the ground, they should be calling more run plays.

Obviously, the Vikings came up as one of the best running teams in the league, and good ol' Brad Childress had them passing a ridiculous number of times in the week 4 analysis and calling a much more run-oriented game by week 11. Criticism of Childress's over-reliance on the passing game is still alive and well six weeks into the 2008 season, but is it still actually warranted? Here's how things look now, after six weeks of the 2008 season:

Average Yards per Pass Play:

Team	AYPP
New Orleans Saints	8.47
San Diego Chargers	8.32
Dallas Cowboys	7.90
Denver Broncos	7.26
Arizona Cardinals	7.16
Miami Dolphins	7.13
New York Giants	7.13
Philadelphia Eagles	6.87
Carolina Panthers	6.72
Buffalo Bills	6.71
Atlanta Falcons	6.68
Green Bay Packers	6.68
Indianapolis Colts	6.49
Houston Texans	6.34
Washington Redskins	6.27
Chicago Bears	6.25
New York Jets	6.03
Tennessee Titans	6.02
San Francisco 49ers	6.02
Pittsburgh Steelers	5.76
Jacksonville Jaguars	5.76
Minnesota Vikings	5.58
Tampa Bay Buccaneers	5.39
New England Patriots	5.26
Cleveland Browns	5.23
Oakland Raiders	5.16
Baltimore Ravens	4.89
St. Louis Rams	4.75
Detroit Lions	4.58
Seattle Seahawks	4.33
Cincinnati Bengals	4.32
Kansas City Chiefs	3.82
League Average	6.15

Average Yards per Running Play:

Team	AYRP
New York Giants	6.08
Atlanta Falcons	5.02
Tampa Bay Buccaneers	4.95
Dallas Cowboys	4.76
Denver Broncos	4.72
Seattle Seahawks	4.70
San Francisco 49ers	4.67
Oakland Raiders	4.64
Washington Redskins	4.62
Kansas City Chiefs	4.57
Houston Texans	4.38
Detroit Lions	4.32
Miami Dolphins	4.26
Minnesota Vikings	4.18
Jacksonville Jaguars	4.11
Cleveland Browns	3.81
Chicago Bears	3.78
New England Patriots	3.77
San Diego Chargers	3.76
St. Louis Rams	3.75
Green Bay Packers	3.74
Pittsburgh Steelers	3.71
Baltimore Ravens	3.70
Buffalo Bills	3.70
Philadelphia Eagles	3.68
New York Jets	3.66
Carolina Panthers	3.62
Tennessee Titans	3.58
New Orleans Saints	3.32
Indianapolis Colts	3.30
Arizona Cardinals	3.24
Cincinnati Bengals	3.12
League Average	4.12

Note that neither of these metrics takes turnovers into play. It's just raw yardage per play: (passing yards - sack yardage) / (passes + sacks) for passing plays, and yards per carry for running plays. While it's no surprise that the Vikings are below average in passing yards per play, it's a bit surprising to see them barely above average in rushing yards per play.

Now, here's the Yards per Pass Play divided by Yards per Running Play for the league. Teams with a high AYPP/AYRP should be passing more while teams with a low AYPP/AYRP should be running more. That's the theory, at least.

Team	AYPP/AYRP	Pass %
New Orleans Saints	2.55	59.3%
Arizona Cardinals	2.21	58.7%
San Diego Chargers	2.21	52.4%
Indianapolis Colts	1.96	64.5%
Philadelphia Eagles	1.87	62.2%
Carolina Panthers	1.86	51.2%
Buffalo Bills	1.81	54.6%
Green Bay Packers	1.79	57.2%
Tennessee Titans	1.68	45.6%
Miami Dolphins	1.68	53.0%
Dallas Cowboys	1.66	56.4%
Chicago Bears	1.65	52.8%
New York Jets	1.65	59.6%
Pittsburgh Steelers	1.55	51.9%
Denver Broncos	1.54	60.2%
Houston Texans	1.45	60.1%
Jacksonville Jaguars	1.40	53.8%
New England Patriots	1.40	54.5%
Cincinnati Bengals	1.39	60.8%
Cleveland Browns	1.37	54.4%
Washington Redskins	1.36	49.4%
Minnesota Vikings	1.33	54.9%
Atlanta Falcons	1.33	46.3%
Baltimore Ravens	1.32	46.1%
San Francisco 49ers	1.29	56.9%
St. Louis Rams	1.27	59.7%
New York Giants	1.17	52.8%
Oakland Raiders	1.11	49.0%
Tampa Bay Buccaneers	1.09	58.4%
Detroit Lions	1.06	68.0%
Seattle Seahawks	0.92	52.1%
Kansas City Chiefs	0.84	58.1%
League Average	1.49	55.4%

To sum this table up, from a Vikings perspective: Minnesota is averaging 1.33 times as many yards per pass play than it is per running play. The league average is 1.49, so the Vikings are significantly below average (22nd of 32 teams, in fact) in this category.

Meanwhile, the team is dropping back to pass on 54.9% of its offensive snaps (discounting QB runs), just under the league average of 55.4%. Seeing as how the team has never had a lead big enough to abandon the pass and has only rarely been behind enough to abandon the run (at least no more than any other team that might go pass-happy late in the second or fourth quarter), it would seem that the general consensus is true: The Vikings pass considerably more than they should, based on their success in the passing game versus the running game. But I think we knew all that already.

Other teams with badly skewed ratios have understandable reasons for their lopsidedness. The Chiefs and especially the Lions have low AYPP/AYRP ratios yet pass more than the league average, owing to their frequent large deficits, which require them to pass more than they'd like. On the other hand, it looks like Jon Gruden has a little of "Childress disease," having the Bucs pass 58.4% of the time despite the fourth-worst AYPP/AYRP in the league and never having more than a 10-point deficit to overcome.

On the other side of things, most teams with a high AYPP/AYRP ratio have passed more than the league average. One of the strange exceptions is the 5-0 Tennessee Titans, who rank ninth in AYPP/AYRP yet have called the fewest passing plays (by percentage) in the NFL. Having some big leads to protect and a great defense that allows you to play conservatively on offense probably contributes to that and, really, if you're calling the plays in Tennessee, do you want Kerry Collins flinging it all over the field? Also, the high ratio is probably due more to the Titans' ineffective yards/carry of the running game (3.58, 28th in the league) than any significant prowess in the passing game (6.02, 18th), though the team's pass blocking (only two sacks so far this year) is playing a huge part.

All this data does is confirm what we already know: Brad Childress calls far too many passes given his personnel and the rushing and passing ability of his team. It's just nice to have it confirmed every once in a while.