NFL in the ‘80s: Moving Into Age of Specialization

Steve Sabol of NFL Films used to go through miles of footage to concentrate on individual matchups between the game’s great players, weaving them into intriguing subplots, the better to explain the bigger picture. He’d focus on Alex Karras, the Lions’ ornery defensive tackle going against All-Pro guard Jerry Kramer of the Packers, or the Steelers Hall of Fame-bound Mean Joe Green attacking New England’s mammoth guard, John Hannah.

But as the 1970s turned into the 1980s, Sabol found it increasingly difficult to find that sort of one-on-one footage sustained over an entire game. That’s because classic matchups have virtually disappeared from the National Football League.

As the NFL opens its 70th season today, situation substitution isn’t the only concept that’s evolved in the 1980s. The ‘80s also saw the proliferation of smurf-like receivers and pass-rushing hybrids who are part linebackers, part linemen.

Clearly, the decade of the 1980s will be remembered for the sustained excellence of the San Francisco 49ers, who won three Super Bowl championships, two labor strikes that threatened to cripple the game, the crackdown on use of illegal drugs, the bold and still-controversial decision to use instant replay and the imminent retirement of Commissioner Pete Rozelle.

Players are bigger and faster, games are longer, and the NFC nearly shut out the AFC over the decade. But as Joe Theismann said, “The ‘80s will be remembered for a lot of things, but primarily I think it will be remembered as the Age of Specialization.”

Ahmad Rashad, the former Vikings receiver now working for NBC-TV, says, “If you can do one thing real well now you can be a star in this league. I think it started when (Jets defensive end) Mark Gastineau had a good year and people started paying attention to all the sackers. The old guys started grumbling, ‘Hey, I used to play the run, play every down.’ But the sackers said, ‘Let me rush the passer and pay me a million.’ ”

The Redskins, Theismann points out, were the first team to use one running back exclusively, and put such heavy emphasis on using a man for the specific duty of catching the ball out of the backfield on third down.

Todd Christensen, the ex-Raider tight end, says one of his pet peeves this decade has been over-substitution. “The game is losing its game-face,” he said. “There’s too many specialists, too much structure. It should be more like tennis; no coaching during the games. No guard messengers and no hand-signals. It’s gotten ridiculous. Who even knows who’s in the game?”

Still, many people defend specialization. Theismann is not alone in arguing that an entirely new and exciting player was created, then showcased because of situation substitution. “You can call him the pass-rushing, right-side, outside person,” Theismann said.

Lawrence Taylor and Dexter Manley, both drafted into the league in 1981, are often singled out. New England’s Andre Tippett followed. “Some great player comes along with a certain set of attributes that coaches then exploit,” Giant General Manager George Young said. “It affects a trend and others start to notice; ‘Hey, this guy can do certain things the others can’t, so let’s devise a scheme to utilize what he does. Teams in competition look for a similar guy.”

Tex Schramm, the former Cowboy general manager, says the emergence of the three-man line with a fourth man being the designated rusher was the second most noticeable on-field devlopment in the decade, just behind the introduction of smurfs.

In 1977, Schramm and his competition committee initiated a rule change that said defenders would be permitted to make contact with eligible receivers only once. Said Sabol, “Once there was no longer the threat of a forearm like a crowbar tearing your head from your neck,” it wasn’t necessary for a receiver to be 6-2 and 200 pounds. A small, quick, darting wideout could evade the big defensive back and get open.

“I call it the Decade of the Smurfs,” Young said, noting that defensive backs had to become quick, darting players, too. “Prior to the ‘80s, it just wasn’t that way. And the quarterbacks have a higher completion percentage because the receivers don’t get jostled.”

Schramm sees that 1977 rule change as a much-needed measure that stopped defenses from from putting people to sleep. The league legislated on the side of offense to open up the game, and the legislation passed in the ‘70s (including allowing linemen to block with their hands and moving back the goalposts) largely defined the way the game was played in the 1980s.

“We had to adjust the rules from an offensive standpoint,” Schramm said, “because the defensive athletes are better and better. The defense always catches up to the offense. And in the ‘70s, George Allen unabashedly exploited the philosophy, ‘Let them make a mistake, we’ll kick a field goal and win every game, 6-3.’ There wasn’t any incentive to move the ball.”

Schramm said it may also be time for new offensive measures. With defenses playing six men in the secondary, quarterbacks are finding it difficult to complete passes downfield. “I think that Cincinnati coach, Sam Wyche, may have something for the ‘90s,” Schramm said of the hurry-up offense that limits defensive substitution.

Indeed, the ‘70s were ushered in by Joe Namath and the Raiders “Just go deep, baby.” AFC teams, clearly more imaginative on the offensive side of things, dominated, winning six of the last seven Super Bowls in the decade. In the ‘80s, the Raiders (1981 and 1984) are the only AFC team to win.

Theismann says the Bears (beginning in 1984) are the “most obvious people to influence the change” to thinking defense first. “The 1983 Redskins team, that was the best offensive team of the ‘80s,” Theismann said of the team that he led to a stunning 541 points and a 14-2 record. “But the ’85 Bears were the finest defensive machine of the 80s.”

Asked to pick the best team of the decade, Young could have chosen his own ’86 Giants, who won Super Bowl XXI. Instead, he said, “I don’t like to draw those kids of distinctions, but the Bears were formidable. They were the one dominant team from start to finish (in 1985).”

Schramm, like Rashad, draws a distinction between the best team of the decade (the 49ers) and the most exciting (the Bears). “The Bears just caught everyone’s imagination,” he said. “They kind of replaced the Cowboys and Steelers from the ‘70s. The sale of their merchandise reflects that.”

Rashad and Schramm agree that even if the Redskins win the Super Bowl this year, tying the 49ers with three each, San Francisco will be Team of the Decade because the Redskins won during two strike-shortened seasons.

Sabol looks at film now and sees virtually every defense having adopted what he calls, “the attack mentality.” Mike Ditka in Chicago, Buddy Ryan in Philadelphia and Jerry Glanville in Houston have their defenses play with their personalities. And everybody else has copied. “They’ve pretty much done away with, ‘We’ll give you the underneath stuff’ philosophy and said, ‘We won’t give you anything.’ ”

Theismann is more wowed by the physical than the tecnhical. He recalled Jack Pardee playing linebacker at about 220 pounds in his last season with the Redskins in 1972, then pointed out the fact that the Giants Taylor isn’t alone at 245.

“That’s because we’ve gotten into the pre-eminence of the strength coach,” Young said, citing another ‘80s trend. We hired our first (full-time) one in 1979. Now, it’s a network.”

Then why the increase injuries? “Maybe it’s the bigger, stronger, faster ... that’s doing it to each other,” he said.

Rashad pointed to two other trends, increased emphasis on special teams and better coaching. “A lot of this is now a chess game between the offensive and defensive coordinators. When I played (in the ‘70s) I don’t even remember having a coordinator. Now, everybody’s got 15 coaches; they’ve got shoelace-tying coaches.

“Special teams didn’t have coaches, you didn’t even have special-teams meetings,” he said. “Playing special teams meant your worth to the team wasn’t very much. It used to be you’d run down on a kickoff and tell the other guy, ‘Man, don’t hit knees.’

“Now, guys on special teams are like trained killer dogs. There’s a Pro Bowl spot for them. I think it’s exciting to see. For the ‘90s, you’ve got Mouse Davis and his run-and-shoot (at Detroit) and no-huddle offenses. It’s exciting to see. The NFL, like any other sport, has to move on.”