Is that...bad? That looks bad, Arizona State. I don’t think he’s supposed to be open like that. There are defenses where you want to give a twelve yard cushion, I think, but now when you’re on the seventeen yard line. I know, I never played the game, but: that seems bad? It seems real bad.
I mean: he could have hit the Quan before the ball got to him. Multiple Quans. All the Quans, and a few Larrys, and maybe a Melissa or two. I don’t even know how to do the Melissa, but I suspect it’s probably a series of gestures indicating an unnecessarily complex order at Starbucks. The Utah receiver could have invented the Hank Hill, and then illustrated how to do the Hank Hill, and then led the student section in a round of Hank Hill-ing before catching an easy touchdown.
The Hank Hill probably involves pointing to your narrow urethra. It’s not family-friendly, but neither is coverage like this.
That’s just lonely out there, Arizona State. Football isn’t a lonely game. You spend most of the game with someone right next to you, or crashing into you. If you were an alien watching football in slow motion with no prior knowledge of the game, you might assume it was an elaborate hugging ritual. One where the person with the hug-ball, seeking affection, received it in such amounts that it actually required protection from the ferocity of the players’ cuddles.
You’re letting down the man getting the hug-ball, Arizona State. Did you even consider his emotions? Or his safety? This is in Utah. Any person left that alone in the Western wilds like that is subject to animal attack at a moment’s notice. Do you want that receiver to be eaten by coyotes, or die of exposure? Exposure is not a defensive back, Arizona State, though based on this play it was more of a threat than your secondary, and would arrive before a safety.
We’re just saying: this seems bad, and like you might want to fix that in practice. Then again, maybe not? The scariest gambit of all might be leaving a receiver so open they can contemplate not only dropping the ball they surely cannot possibly drop, but also the existential horror of the universe and its vastness. The ball arrives to me like the light from a distant star—it takes so long to arrive, that if it does, and I catch it, has the person who threw it already aged like Matthew McConaughey’s family in Interstellar?
[/Utah receiver stands on rings of Saturn, awaiting pass that will reach him in four years, while calmly eyeing Arizona State defensive back swimming in from Jupiter, where he was TOTALLY supposed to be, according to this defensive diagram Todd Graham just made up]