by Just before halftime, as his team tried to humiliate its divisional-round opponent by having players jump offside on a two-point conversion attempt while already leading 27–0, Eagles coach Nick Sirianni turned to a referee and uttered a phrase that will be on every t-shirt in the Philadelphia parking lot from now until the rest of time.
“I know what the f— I’m doing.”
While he was specifically referring to the legality of where he was standing (Sirianni was chastised by the officiating deputies for his position outside the coaches’ box while watching the offense), it could have been about anything and we would have believed him. Soccer. Culinary arts. Business. Fabrics and textiles. It will, as a viral declaration, be about everything from here onwards. On a night when the Eagles emerged from a late-season slumber that made us forget the scope and breadth of their dominance this regular season, Sirianni reminded us of that. There was no disagreement among the tens of thousands of drunken Eagles fans at Lincoln Financial Field who sang along to Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ On A Prayer.”
Sanders and the Eagles owned the Giants on the ground to take control of the game and keep it.
Bill Streicher/USA TODAY Sports
This play was as much a panic-free advance as it was a signal to the remaining opponents to approach cautiously. Throughout the match, Sirianni was in rare form. He bobbed rhythmically for a roving digital camera on the sidelines like a demonstrative backup singer. He nearly separated the shoulder of the offensive coordinator after a hard attempt on the chest after the touchdown. In the third quarter, he again attempted to draw the Giants offside, while going up 21 points, using a fake punt (the kind of confident pinning one can only do if they are prepared to have a bull’s eye the size of an oil tanker for the rest of the time in the NFC East).
During most of the details, the game was as artful a takedown of a familiar opponent as we’ve seen all year. By now you’ve probably seen the slow-motion clip of Eagles center Jason Kelce on the right chokeslamming Giants defensive tackle Justin Ellis in the second quarter a few plays before a Boston Scott touchdown put them up by three scores. Kelce forced the 334-pound Ellis to collapse his stance and wedge his feet together, turning Ellis into a lopsided tower of disadvantageous proportions. Kelce hoisted him the way one of us could try to throw a shot put for the first time, or toss a wet bag of leaves into the back of a pickup truck.
Ellis spelled star defensive tackle Dexter Lawrence, the Giants’ best player, who took a breather on the sideline. At that moment, their entire attack changed to knife runs up the middle of the field, exposing the loss of Lawrence in the Giants front. When Lawrence was inside, the running game was designed around pairing Kelce with either right or left guard, who would work together to either block Lawrence, trap him by inviting him up the field and run elsewhere, or zone block him in unison, so that him to pursue and wash him out of the play. At one point, the Eagles also used a runner to go up and put Lawrence on his shoulder. The Giants tried to push two players on Kelce. They tried to line up Lawrence almost diagonally like a missile. Nothing could stop falling in love, down after down.
When Lawrence was in, except for the notable exception of a 40-yard play to DeVonta Smith on the opening drive, the Eagles’ passing game was quick, allowing the Giants at any time to collapse the pocket and generate enough rushes to get to Hurt. When Hurts ran — his six first-half carries were among the most he’s done through two quarters in a game — they were mostly on misdirection runs that kept Lawrence pinned on the opposite side of the play, preventing an even game crash. protection that would cause Hurts to be swarmed and hit.
And again, with Lawrence out, the remaining front seven were simply flattened to make way for a bell game. Eagles backs Miles Sanders, Boston Scott and Kenneth Gainwell combined to run it 35 times for 234 yards, an average of 6.7 yards per carry.
While this is just one example, it is emblematic of what Eagle Way has been this season. They can tear you down in a way that is both extremely depressing for you and wonderfully convenient for them.
Playing with an injured shoulder, Hurts threw the ball 24 times but didn’t have to throw it. He also ran the ball without putting himself in danger (at least very often). Only a small handful of times did we see a drop back and route concept deep enough to put him in real danger of a hard hit from one of Giants defensive coordinator Wink Martindale’s infamous free runners. A taxed and injured offensive line was given a lot of responsibility, but it was a shared lift, putting some of the burden on the Eagles’ physically superior skill position players who could contribute some well-timed blocking (see: AJ Brown bulldozing Adoree ‘ Jackson like a bunch of dead tree branches on Smith’s touchdown in the first quarter).
Coaches often game plan this way, in a kind of dream scenario that leaves their team dominant, confident and, most importantly, fresh for another do-or-die game next week, but how many of them can make it on that the way?
Few of them can really say with the same degree of confidence that Sirianni did on Saturday that they know what they are doing.
