An Open Letter to Doug Pederson

by
Former Writers
November 22, 2018

Teed Johnson via Flickr

To Doug, From Philly with Frustration

Coach Pederson,

First and foremost Coach, I’d like to thank you for your efforts and success of last season. Nothing expressed in this letter is without the acknowledgment that you delivered the first Lombardi Trophy to my city, the City of Brotherly Love. However, if we’re being honest, some of us are starting to worry it might be the only Super Bowl victory you ever bring us.

The hopes of a dynasty have diminished to the woes of sub-mediocrity. The “new normal” is a hazy hypothetical. “Negadelphia” is once again the ideology of the region.

For a while we kept saying, “next week they’ll figure it out”, or, “Wentz is still getting in the swing of things”, “there have been so many injuries”, “it’s hard to win when everyone wants to take down the champs”, “well we lost Frank Reich and John DeFilippo, so our offense is going to decline a little.” I’ve run out of arguments and have officially resigned from being your office water cooler advocate.

This isn’t to say I don’t want you as my coach, because I do. I just want you to coach like you don’t have a championship ring on your finger and a best-selling book on the shelf.

Slow Starts, No Spark

Last year, our Eagles averaged over 28 points and 364 yards a game. Week after week, the offense shot out of a cannon in the first half. In Week 5 we scored 21 points in the first quarter alone! This season we’ve struggled to put up 21 points throughout an entire game. After ten weeks of football, we’ve only scored more than 21 points in a game three times, two of which were losses.

These slow starts are affecting fans and players alike. The already injured defense is having to stay on the field longer, and the offense can never establish momentum. The image of Carson Wentz shaking his head as he angrily unbuttons his chin strap is burned in our heads. Waiting for him on the sideline is you, seemingly unaffected and calm about the piteous foundering of the offense. We’re confused and starting to get mad.

I know you miss the offensive explosiveness of last season, I can tell by your play calling. It feels like every drive is a two-minute-drill. Trick plays on short yardage scenarios, screen passes galore, and play-action calls when we haven’t even run the ball.

Explosiveness is rooted in efficiency. In order to pass the ball, you have to run the ball. In order to throw downfield, you have to let a secondary know there’s a danger in the midfield. If you’re taking a liberal stance in going for it, at least call a conservative play to give you your best shot.

But Seriously, Run the Ball

Despite not having Carson Wentz for the first few weeks, along with almost a non-existent receiving core at times, you’ve thrown the ball 385 out of 621 times. Subtracting quarterback scrambles and attempts to run out the clock, you’ve thrown the ball nearly 70% of the time this season.

Our quarterback, the most valuable player on the team and division, is still adjusting from an injury. The offensive line, which was supposed to be one of the best in the league, is now one of the worst. The o-line has let up double the amount of QB hits thus far this season as they did all of last year. Between Jason Peters deteriorating, and Lane Johnson’s health, our offensive line is not in a position to pass block that consistently in an efficient way.

Yes, LeGarrette Blount is gone, and Jay Ajayi and Darren Sproles are hurt. However, Josh Adams and Wendell Smallwood have well-exceeded expectations. Corey Clement has struggled, but who wouldn’t with the limited amount of touches he is seeing. Give the backfield a chance. If nothing else, it gives your offensive line a break and protects your QB for a play.

Establish a running game, control time of possession, and take the momentum. Allow Wentz to be at his best by putting the defense on their toes.

In Philly, We Play Defense

As Shawn Bradley once put it, Philadelphians want players to play each game like it is their last. This year we’ve watched a defense that has played at times like it was practice. Throughout the early 2000’s we stomached our offensive woes because we could pride ourselves on our defense. We went from a “not in our house” mentality in the red zone, denying Matt Ryan three times like Saint Peter, to losing three straight games at home.

Each of those contests was not only winnable, but one was all but finished. That was until our defense let up 21 unanswered points in the fourth quarter against the Carolina Panthers. The tenth worst secondary in the league cannot be made up for by the now seventh best-run defense.

With the exception of our 27-20 Week 10 division loss to Dallas, we’ve trailed by six or fewer points in all of our losses. While offensive efficiency could answer that problem, so could our defense. Our offense hasn’t done a great job at keeping our defense off the field, but our defense keeps digging a deeper hole for our offense to get out of. Only in Week 1 against Atlanta did our defense finish a game for us.

While this might be a sermon for Jim Schwartz rather than yourself, it is your team. The lack of blitz packages called and miscommunication in the secondary over coverage is startling. Cornerbacks hanging back at the line and giving WRs several yards is more than ridiculous.

The tackling problem at the line is pathetic along with our seeming inability to contain a mobile quarterback. Not to mention the internal fighting that needs to be squashed. You are all you guys have, and lack of unity is the last thing you guys need.

Pressure is On. No One’s Having Fun if You’re Losing

With all of these problems, you keep repeating “there’s no pressure” “just have fun.” Doug, if I may, from the freezing seats in section 215, the truck radio on I-95, and the plastic covered couch in Glenolden, we are not having fun.

From the looks of it, neither are your players. This idea of “live and let live” isn’t working. You are the reigning Super Bowl Champions who just lost 48-7. There is a world of pressure; you just want to ignore it.

We get it. Your hands are over your eyes so you can’t see us. We can still see you, buddy.

Pressure comes with the trophy. It should be recognized, celebrated, and utilized as motivation, not denied. Your players don’t live in a vacuum. They feel the expectations. Put the newspaper clippings on the whiteboard in the locker room, stop telling them to just have fun. This isn’t ax throwing in Fishtown. This is the National Football League for Dawkins’ sake.

It verges on insulting when I hear you say “there’s a lot of football left” and “we’re not worried.” No sir, there is not a lot of football left. You’ve already played half your season and have just seven games left. At 4-6 you should be equal parts worried and ashamed. Leadership isn’t about blind optimism. It’s about addressing adversity head on, isolating the problems, and correcting course.

Oh, and another thing, to say “if you don’t believe in us, we don’t need you” in your press conference Tuesday morning, how dare you. You have given us no reason to believe in you this season. You need us more than we need you, Doug.

Are You Still Reading?

You might think I’m being a bit cruel or harsh. Well, I probably am. I don’t say any of this because I want to be angry with you, I say it because I want to have faith in you again. No, one bad season doesn’t mean you’re a bad coach. I don’t think you should lose your job. Every coach is doomed to have down years, periods of reconstruction, and sometimes just bad luck.

Let’s be real about it. You’re having one. That’s okay, but as Brian Dawkins himself said “Respect is not given. It is earned”, you just haven’t earned it this year. You have to re-earn our faith and respect this year and (heads up) every year after that. So stop whining about the fact the media and the fan base have some questions for you. It’s because we love you guys that we are so pushy.

But listen, there’s still some (not a lot, optimistic Olly) football left. It’s Week 12 of the NFL season, and in just a few days we face our division rivals, the New York Giants. This will be the first of four games we absolutely must win if we want to make the playoffs. If we lose this, lights out. If we win, you keep the team alive another week. Maybe more importantly, you remind everyone what winning feels like.

Underdogs Once More

Now I don’t expect, nor do I ask, you to win out the rest of the season, but you give every team that you guys face absolute hell. Feel the pressure, listen to the doubt, and play some smashmouth football. Play Eagles’ football. Put Jared Goff on the turf play after play, he turns the ball over under pressure. That Houston offensive line is like a two-way door, don’t let Deshaun Watson out of the pocket.

Dallas isn’t better than you guys neither is Washington or New York. You are the top dogs of the division but on paper are back to underdogs. I don’t see a reason in the world why you can’t get your team to split with Dallas and sweep Washington and New York. When you and your team are on point, you’re unbeatable even with a backup QB. You are plenty good enough, and now it’s time to just get focused.

Gather your veteran players up, get your coaches together and get on the same page. Create specific goals, find the team’s identity again, and get after it. I’m spending way too much money of frozen soft pretzels and Dunkin’ Donuts coffee to keep watching you guys lose. I want that “he’s got this” feeling back when we watch you run out onto the field.

I believe in you Rock, I mean Doug. You turned the ship around before, and you can do it again.