Hit 'Reset'

What is it about the middle of the season? Why is it that this time of year, every year, I feel like I could do a better job than half the coaches in the NFL are? Is it because, like the rest of the media and fan base out there, I have the advantage of 20/20 hindsight, and thus second-guess the daylights out of every move losing head coaches have made? Is it because, like the rest of the stat-crunchers out there, I can see trends that "should have been obvious" to anyone with eyes, thousands of pages of numbers, and an advanced degree in calculus (or access to people like that)? Maybe it's the Fantasy Football leagues I'm in, where I can usually pull a ringer off the waiver wire on game day and squeak out a win over some guy with 8 powerhouse studs that all fall flat (though, admittedly, that's not working too well for me this year). Or perhaps the cause of my hubris is the combined wisdom of the "NFL Insiders" that I read, listen to, watch, and otherwise soak up for hours each day. The act of which gives me insight into… well, not much, really, outside of just how little these "insiders" really know about anything that matters.

Nope.

All those answers are wrong.

Why do I feel like I could do better? Two words: John Madden.

More specifically, John Madden's NFL franchise of video games. Be it Playstation, X-Box, Nintendo, or even on the PC, I master this game. Don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming to be unbeatable, or even necessarily a great challenge to human opponents every time I play. No, my genius lies in the "Franchise Mode" of play. I rarely have a losing season in this game. In fact, I rarely fail to make the playoffs – even in "rebuilding years".

Anyone can be good at a single game, or even a tournament. It's a different skill set that allows one to dominate a 5-minute-per-quarter, no defense, no punting score-fest. An impressive skill-set, no doubt (and potentially rather lucrative, so I've heard), but not one that translates to real-world football coaching. No matter how fast you hit the X button on the sidelines, Ray Lewis isn't going to fly over the offensive line and flatten the opposing QB just as the ball is snapped. Then again, perhaps Ray Lewis is a bad example. Right, put Brad Kassell in there (former 3rd-string, current starting MLB for Tennessee). You get the point.

Being a good coach isn't just motivating the players and picking the right plays on each possession. In Franchise mode, it includes adjusting personnel groupings and substitutions each week; disguising formations, learning your own tendencies before the computer does and changing them; using your star players in unique ways, and overcoming injuries to those star players when you don't manage to avoid them – not just for a single game, but for weeks and even months of game time on end.

I've played the Tennessee Titans for "10 years" of game time in Madden 2000, at times without McNair, George, Wycheck, or Kearse. That team has yet to lose more than three games in a season.

So, how does this make me a better NFL coach than, say, Dave Wannstedt, or *cough* Steve Spurrier? Honestly, it probably doesn't. But there are a few things that they could learn. Things like, how to recognize when a certain style of attack isn't working, put pride aside, and use something your team isn't necessarily known for doing well – precisely because they're not known for doing it well. If no one in the building is expecting you to throw the ball deep on 2rd and 2 because your best receiver is out and half your payroll is going to your running back, and the opponent has 8 (or even 9) men in the box, you THROW THE FREAKING DEEP BALL. Even a 5th receiver should be good enough to can catch a ball once in a while if he's wide open, or one-on-one with a safety.

If you've got a reputation for being a pass-wacky coach, darnit, you should have some run plays from spread formations in the playbook. Heck, you should be willing to come out and run 30-35 times against a team that's expecting passes, if that's what it takes to win. So what if you're only getting 3 yards a carry? 3 yards x 4 downs = 12, right? That's another set of downs.

Quite honestly, I'm full of crap this week. I'm a darn good electronic coach. I have a decent mind for the game – good enough to realize I'm learning new stuff every week I watch the pros at work on my TV. I know there are thousands of things that factor into a coach's job that I don't even know about.

But still, one would think that a person who is good enough to coach in the NFL should be able to make a few adjustments from week to week. Gunther Cunningham's Chiefs defense should be able to account for a freaking play-fake bootleg after the first game, right? So far that same play has smoked them two weeks in a row – multiple times each week.

How is it a person making six or seven figures to do NOTHING BUT STUDY FOOTBALL can fail to recognize that, with Randy Moss not in the lineup, you must change the game-plan to account for an extra safety who's not covering Moss? And then wonder why your QB and running games aren't having the same effectiveness as they were earlier? You would think Mike Tice, knowing Moss was going to be out, would have planned his game to do other things.

Everyone gives Bill Bellichek so much credit for being a genius in New England, but really, he's just using video-game common sense: adapt as necessary to win the game. Everyone seemed so surprised to see Troy Brown step in and play well as a DB on Sunday. Not me. Madden 2004 rates the guy a 90 at RCB, after all.