Just savor it, Dolphins fans.

We’ve never seen the likes of the Miami Dolphins’ 42-38 comeback thriller Sunday at Baltimore.

But after Tua Tagovailoa threw for 469 yards and a Dolphins-record-tying six touchdowns, including two each to Tyreek Hill (190 yards) and Jaylen Waddle (171 yards), there is reason to look ahead with hope.

Like to next week when Josh Allen and the Buffalo Bills come to South Florida.

Tua and his speedy band of playmakers showed the tangible promise of Mike McDaniel’s offense. And you’ve gotta love this unconventional young coach, who doesn’t bat an eye in going for it on fourth-and-short in his own territory in the first half — and makes it.

Still not quite sure I believe what we just witnessed.

Dolphins’ comeback a rarity

Down by three touchdowns to what for three quarters looked like a thoroughly superior Ravens team, much-maligned Tagovailoa fired four touchdown passes in the fourth quarter for the most outrageous of comebacks. On the road.

It was the first time in 12 years any NFL team has overcome a 21-point deficit in the fourth quarter, according to ESPN Stats & Info.

The only similar in Dolphins memory was that wild comeback against the Chargers in the 1981 playoffs. Yes, ancient history. Except instead of losing at the end, the Dolphins won this time on Tagovailoa’s sixth touchdown pass of the day with 14 seconds left.

For a regular-season victory, only the 1985 upset of the Bears comes to mind as more impactful than this baffler in Baltimore.

Consider, they won despite allowing Lamar Jackson to throw a 75-yard touchdown pass and run 79 yards for another. They also spotted the Ravens seven points on a 103-yard return of the opening kickoff.

Fins looked beaten in Baltimore

It would have been easy to throw in the towel, down 28-7 at the half. Admit it, at that point you’re thinking, “Same-old Dolphins. Still can’t match up with the better teams. Just not good enough.”

That’s what I was thinking.

Tagovailoa had thrown two interceptions. The defense had offered little resistance except for the valiant goal-line stop at the beginning of the second quarter — that sure loomed large at the end.

Still, nobody could have foreseen the fireworks that would come in the fourth quarter. The Dolphins haven’t had a cast pile up points like this since Dan Marino was letting it fly to the Marks Brothers, Clayton and Duper.

Per @ESPNstatsinfo: “This is the first time the Dolphins have had two 150-plus yard receivers in the same game since Clayton and Duper in 1986.”

On Sunday, Tua was slinging a heaping portion of shut-the-F-up to his detractors. While Hill and Waddle each had 11 catches, Tagovailoa had completions to 10 different receivers.

pic.twitter.com/XuHlw5bbIO

— Shawn (Hawk) Hawkins (@hawk954) September 18, 2022

Concerns? Yes, these Dolphins have plenty of flaws. The big deficit was a combination of porous pass defense, a nonexistent pass rush, a special teams disaster and shaky decision making by Tua in the first half.

Leading a 28-point fourth-quarter rally changes everything for Tua. Rest assured, the quarterback has the complete confidence of his locker room now.

Tua left no doubt today. He can lead this Dolphins Team to the promise land. Period.

— Robert Griffin III (@RGIII) September 18, 2022

Can Tua’s offense match Allen’s Bills?

That won’t make next week’s challenge any easier. The Bills are rightfully regarded as a Super Bowl contender.

But if this Dolphins offense can win a high-scoring affair against Jackson and the Ravens, no reason they can’t give Allen and the Bills a run for the AFC East.

As for Dolfans, you’ve seen your team pull off the nearly impossible. Maybe they can do it again — or something like it.

For the moment, just enjoy it.

Craig Davis has covered South Florida sports and teams, including the Dolphins, for four decades. Follow him on Twitter @CraigDavisRuns

The concept of home is a tenuous one at best. It has a textbook definition, no doubt, often centered around the physical dwelling in which one resides.

But what does it really mean?

Is it the place you were born? The place you currently live? The place you identify with?

As the Miami Hurricanes travel to College Station, TX to play Texas A&M, I’m confronted with this question, although for me it is easy to answer. Because while I was born in Bryan, TX (College Station’s sister city. When I was born that is where the only hospital was located, but we lived in College Station), home always has and will forever be Miami. Even before I laid eyes on Biscayne’s Wondrous shore, Miami was for me.

The Texas Side

This is not a situation where I was technically born in Texas but moved to Miami as a baby. I lived in College Station for 13 years.

I do have fond memories of College Station. Some of my best friends which are more like family are from there. I’ll be seeing some of them this weekend.

And the people are incredibly friendly, something Hurricanes’ fans are sure to encounter. It was the place I went to elementary school.

From March 2022, myself, my sister, and my brother (L to R) in front of our elementary school in College Station, TX. 

College Station is an interesting place. Everything centers around Texas A&M University. The name “Aggie” is affixed to buildings, store fronts, and businesses. Pretty much everything in town is directly or indirectly tied to the school. They almost speak a different language, with “howdy”, “y’all”, and “Gig ’em” in the vernacular.

When we were growing up, Texas A&M was still in the Southwestern Conference (SWC), a conference compromised almost entirely (until Arkansas left, then entirely) of Texas schools. It was a Texas thing, and where my love of college football first gestated. We’d watch the Aggie game every Saturday, nothing else mattered in the world.

And on rare occasions, generally when Rice was in town, the local Dairy Queen would give out cheap tickets, and we could actually go to Kyle Field and watch the Aggies play.

Without College Station, without Texas A&M, my love of college football might not exist. And while I’m enchanted by the idea of an alternate reality where I don’t know who Al Golden is, I do owe TAMU a debt of gratitude for one of the great joys of my life.

Head East

So how did I end up in Miami? Well, actually, the same way I ended up in College Station. My father is a (retired-ish) professor, and Texas A&M hired him. And then, 15 years later (I was born 2 years after my parents and older brother moved to Texas), the University of Miami came calling.

And that changed my life forever.

If you’re wondering how I didn’t end up an Aggie fan, and how I don’t identify more closely with College Station, it’s because I didn’t belong there. You won’t see me trash the place, because that isn’t warranted. And I won’t dismiss it as just another place for me, because it is important in my life, and I do have ties to the area.

But going back to that word, it was never “home.”

Miami is.

The second I set foot in the insanity of the 305, it fit me like a glove. Well, full disclosure, the first time I was in Miami was actually in the Miami Airport when we still lived in Texas. My family was traveling back from India on Pan-Am and had a layover in Miami. I got off the plane, air sick, and promptly threw up all over the Miami Airport. Home-sweet-home. I guess I was marking my territory.

Miami is Home

The thing with college football is that it is about so much more than the game on the field. It’s about the community, the ties between the team, the rest of the school, and everyone surrounding it.

And I never felt that bond in College Station.

Miami, on the other hand… I didn’t fall in love with the sun, the palm trees, the beaches…it was the people. The glorious melting pot of every culture and background you can think of, co-existing. Not harmoniously. Let’s be real, we’re nuts. But still, co-existing nonetheless.

Coming from Texas, Miami truly was the Magic City. And the University of Miami was the fulcrum that changed me from a college football fan into a University of Miami fan, fostering a deeper understanding of my community, of my home. You cannot understand Miami without understanding the University of Miami football program. 

Some families have a family business. For our family, it’s the University of Miami. My dad taught there, my brother went there, I went there, my sister went there and now works there.

And it represents the entire community. And it was the place where I found home.

That is why I’m so defensive of this team, this program, this school. It’s more than those things for me. It’s my extended family, mi gente. We can make fun of and criticize it, but no one outside la familia is afforded that opportunity.

I was recently in College Station for a wedding. The Rehearsal Dinner featured a cultural night, where you wore clothing representing your culture. I wore a guayabera and a Cuban hat, and found myself hunting for a cigar shop before the night was over.

To say there will be a culture clash in College Station this weekend is an understatement.

Two-step meets booty dance.

Boot meets chancleta.

10 gallon hat meets canotier.

Howdy meets buenas.

Y’all meets bro.

And I’ll meet the what could have been which fortunately isn’t. The pride that will fill my chest as our boys take the field, the U on their helmets, in their glorious orange and green will be immeasurable, representing us all. The family will be on stage, the country watching. Regardless of result, el orgulloso de Miami never falters.

We will be a sight to see.

Vishnu Parasuraman is a journalist for @FiveReasonsSports. He covers the Miami Hurricanes for Sixth Ring Canes and Formula 1 for Hitting the Apex. You can follow him on twitter @vrp2003

November 13, 2021. The Miami Hurricanes did what they’ve done for the better part of two decades. Play infuriatingly poor football, have enough explosive plays to somehow be in a position to win, and blow the game anyway.

But this felt different. Losing to that Florida State team was clearly unacceptable to the fan base. But to the administration? In the past, coaching retention decisions were made based on what the administration felt they could get away with versus what was necessarily in the best interest of the program. The Miami Hurricanes football program had reached a low point, with Manny Diaz somehow managing to win just enough to convince the higher-ups to keep him, while also blowing a game just to make sure all fans would lose any semblance of hope. This felt different because it was the end of the program.

That is a version of this story that I’m happy I’m not writing, a reality we’re thankfully not living.

The school had had enough, and Blake James, and eventually Manny Diaz, were shown the door.

The Long Kiss Goodnight

The last 6 months of frenetic recruiting and hiring successes obfuscate the slow, deliberate way in which the Canes conducted themselves, at least publicly. When the history of the upcoming Miami Hurricanes Renaissance is written, it will describe a tale of the Hurricanes zeroing in on their coach, and landing the only real choice. And that much is true, from a certain point of view.

But the long wait, the consternation about Diaz potentially being retained…that was real. The anxiety of those days, easy to forget in the glorious present, was palpable at the time. From November 27th to December 6th…the fans waited. While the wait felt interminable, the feeling could have turned into reality had Diaz continued. The school was mum on Diaz’s future, and the former Miami Hurricanes’ coach filled the vacuum with hashtags and hot air, stirring up toxicity in a bid to retain his job.

But then December 6th happened. A day that changed the trajectory of the University of Miami.

The Native Son

Mario Cristobal embodies Miami. There is a drive and intensity about him that is a throwback to his own playing days.

A Miami native, he went to the University of Miami, and had stints there as a both a graduate assistant and an assistant coach. And then he got his first head coaching job, also in Miami, at Florida International University.

Not enough is said about the job Mario Cristobal did for FIU. He took over a program that had won 5 games in total in 5 seasons, and in 2 years, had them in a bowl game. But one backslide and he was out of a job, and landed at a familiar place, at home in Coral Gables.

But the thing is Miami had changed. The year was 2013 and Al Golden held a near tyrannical hold on the Athletic Department. This was not the Miami that Cristobal remembered from his playing days. While perhaps not dead, the program was in hibernation. Cristobal spent 6 weeks on Golden’s staff, and when the greatest coach in college football history comes calling, he made a decision that was easy on paper, but incredibly difficult in reality.

Miami is Home

The “easy” decision turned out to be anything but.

Even while observing the disaster that was the Golden Era from inside. Even with the allure of going to work for Nick Saban.

Because Cristobal knew what he would be risking. Leaving Miami was one thing, but in an era where fealty to Al Golden was valued above all else, this native son of Miami knew he might never get another chance to work at the school he loved, replete with knowledge that this version of Miami would shun an alum in favor of an interloper who was using the program as a stepping stone. He might never be able to go home again.

In a more sane time, Cristobal could have gone to Alabama comfortable with the knowledge that he could return to Miami a better coach. But in 2013, he knew that leaving would paint him with a scarlet letter. What would you do? Leave the program you love and potentially never be able to return? Or help participate in the downfall and failure you know is coming, contributing to the failure itself, deluding yourself into thinking you can mitigate the incoming disaster?

Sometimes, you have to leave home, and that’s what Cristobal did. And predictably, he spent almost a decade as person non grata at Hecht. It’s safe to say without making that decision, Cristobal would not be the head coach today. 

I’m reminded of the Great American hero Virginian George Thomas. Most Virginians sided with the Confederacy at the outbreak of the Civil War. The Lost Cause narrative spilling out of that war whitewashed and deified Virginians such as Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson, while largely ignoring or outright shunning those that did the right thing, like Thomas. To this day, Thomas is a hero in Washington, DC and a pariah in Virginia. He had to make a decision, to side with his home state and participate in something that was not only destined to fail, but awful in its cause, or to fight for the United States, and hasten the end of this dark period. He chose the latter. So did Cristobal.

Cristobal Chose Wisely

Mario Cristobal was always going to have to be the one to save Miami. And in order to do that, he had to leave. He knew that. Staying in Miami, remaining with that toxic program, would not only stain him, but would also not allow him to grow in a manner that would ultimately put him in a position to succeed here.

We are all the sum total of our collective experiences, our successes and failures. Greatness isn’t born, it’s forged. And through Alabama and Oregon, Cristobal broadened his horizons. He became a better coach. More exacting, more precise, more demanding. He took over a largely broken Oregon program and took it to two New Year’s 6 bowl games in 4 years, including a Rose Bowl victory.

The irony in late November and early December of 2021 was how the local view of a potential Cristobal hire so heavily diverged from the national narrative, while both still coalesced around a collective lack of belief.

For battered Miami fans, the question was simple. Would they really fire Manny Diaz and outlay the funds needed to bring in Cristobal? As Diaz’s public relations campaign dominated the local narrative, doubt crept in.

As far as the national media was concerned, they never miss an opportunity to denigrate the University of Miami. Every talking head rushed to find any outlet they could to offer up the opinion that Cristobal would be a fool to go to Miami and that there was no way he would take the job.

El Destino Cristobal

For Miamians, the possibility of Cristobal being offered the job with a reasonable salary and refusing to take it was unthinkable.

The University of Miami is different, as is the city as a whole. It’s a melting pot of people that were born there or made their way there, eventually called it home. Miami never leaves you even if you leave it. There is a draw, like a magnet pulling Miamians home. A klaxon alerting the sons and daughters of the 305, sometimes faintly, sometimes loudly, but ever present.

The irony of the private university in Coral Gables embodying the true Miami is not lost on any of us. And yet the University serves as a symbol of hope and pride for the community, not just because it represents us, but because it is where Miamians go to do big things, as Miamians. And this community has spent decades suffering, wanting our native sons to succeed, watching them collapse under the litany of false dawns and repeated failures. And yet, it still draws us in, draws us home, not because of the football, or the bravado, or the locale, but for what it symbolizes.

The U is the symbolic manifestation of the hopes and dreams of a Tri-County area on the Southeast tip of Florida. When those players run out through the smoke, they carry the weight of all the inner city boys that look up to them, hoping to be there one day. They carry the weight of the legacy of a program that reached heights before HDTV was ubiquitous. They know the price of success and failure.

And they know it’s been decades since the program has fulfilled the promise of Miami.

For Miamians, being acutely aware of the enormity of the task at hand does not equate to being deterred by the seemingly insurmountable obstacles. On the contrary, those challenges only harden the resolve. You tell any Miamian that he or she has the opportunity to rescue this dormant program, restore it to past glory, lift up the South Florida community, instill pride in a forlorn program, and the answer will always be to rise up and meet that challenge.

No, the question was not whether Cristobal would say yes, it was whether the question would be asked.

On December 6, the University of Miami sent for Mario Cristobal. The home land called up their best general to guide the troops to ultimate victory. And the call was answered.

Cristobal has been preparing for this his whole life, his life’s work leading to this moment, coming to the rescue when his home needs him the most.

The rough patches are not over. There will still be struggles, frustrating losses, moments of doubt. Such is football. Such is life. Cristobal’s hiring does not signify the end of that pain, as there are still miles to go before we sleep.

Cristobal’s hiring is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.

The Prodigal Son has returned home.

Vishnu Parasuraman is a journalist for @FiveReasonsSports. He covers the Miami Hurricanes for Sixth Ring Canes and Formula 1 for Hitting the Apex. You can follow him on twitter @vrp2003

Running the ball to set up the pass is an age-old adage where your father and grandfather told you how to play football, but does running the ball really set up the pass?

Traditionally, when an offense executes a successful run for a significant chunk of yardage, an opposing defense will attempt to compensate by bringing additional defenders into the “run box.” The more bodies in the way of the run, the more likely it is for the run to be held short.

However, if more defenders are in the box, that means there are fewer players to defend passes away from the box, so the passing game has greater opportunity to get the ball further down the field.

The NFL evolves every decade moving onward towards something unique but building on basic concepts. We’ve witnessed the fall of the I-form power football in the ‘70’s, to rise of the West Coast offense in the ‘80’s, Run ‘N Shoot and K-Gun in the ‘90’s, Spread and Shotgun offenses in the early 2000’s to the RPO revolution in the 2020’s.

Ultimately, this has come as a result of the NFL’s purposeful rule changes and schematic breakthroughs that have led to its desired impact: more touchdowns. In turn this led to running the ball much less.

EPA on running the ball to set up the pass

A study done by Sean Clements, who is now a data analyst for the Baltimore Ravens, found that establishing the run early in NFL games does not open the passing game later in games.

Through a boxplot Clements made, it’s found that there is little correlation between running the ball early and at a high volume increases the yardage obtained on passing plays. The next emphasis is through EPA, expected points added. Basically, it measures the expected points of a play.

In a graph made by Ben Baldwin, the number of expected points decreases as the number of rushing attempts increases. Contrary to the belief running the ball will help to set up the pass and score.

If that were the case, then we would expect to see higher EPA as the number of rushing attempts increases.

How the modern era has discontinued running the ball to set up the pass

From 2015-2020 passing on first down has averaged a 7.6 YPA, yards per attempt, while running the ball gained 4.3 YPA.

Per sharp football stats, 30.4% of pass attempts on first down have ended up moving the chains. However, only 12.8% of running plays have picked up another first down. In 2020, NFL teams ran the ball on 50.3% of their first-down plays in 2020 and passed the ball on only 49.7%.

In 2021, NFL offenses averaged 7.4 YPA passing on first down compared to 4.2 YPA rushing.

Even the most run-heavy teams like the San Francisco 49ers and Tennessee Titans had higher YPA’s on first down compared to running the ball. San Francisco had an 8.9 YPA passing and 4.4 YPA rushing. Tennessee had 7.2 YPA passing and 4.2 YPA rushing.

Yet, 20 of 32 NFL teams, run the ball on first down gaining minimal yards compared to easily moving the chains to score. So what gives?

How two-high coverages has stopped running the ball to set up the pass

As a result of the modern NFL, many offenses are trigger-happy and defenses have had to respond with swift actions.

Defenses have adapted as time has passed. This time to coverages that include a large base of two-high safety shells.  Two-high coverage means both the strong safety and free safety defend the deep end of the field, with each responsible for a section that runs to each boundary.

Thus leaving the middle of the field open, the main purpose of two-high is to prevent explosive plays in the deep third of the field and not allow big plays.

Some NFL offenses and high-profile quarterbacks like Patrick Mahomes have struggled against two-high coverage early on because they struggled to take what the defense gives them.

In 2018, the highest amount of two-high looks faced by any quarterback in the league was 42%. Eight weeks into the 2021 NFL season, only five teams faced two-high safeties less than 40%.

The key to beating two-high coverage? Running the ball. Two-high is not the perfect scheme to use a majority of the time as yards can be gained in the intermediate passing game and the running game.

The side effect of playing two high safeties to defend the pass is that it can leave you -1 defender against the run.. pic.twitter.com/mZONejCNCA

— Erik Turner (@ErikJTurner) February 2, 2022

Due to the nature of defensive backs lined up well outside the box, offenses often have a light defensive body count in the box to go against. This opens up numerous lanes for running backs.

How passing the ball has set up the run

Running the ball does keep the defense honest and it can be noted on second and third down. YPA on rush attempts increases to 4.4 on second down and 4.5 on third down. The success rate of it gaining five or more yards is 50% on second down and jumps to 53% on third down.

Passing on second down yields a 6.9 YPA with a 47% success rate, on third down passing results in 7.2 YPA with a 37% success rate. First down has become the most successful passing down to move the chains and get drives started for offenses with a 54% success rate.

The most successful offenses in the NFL have potent passing attacks and have the most success by passing the ball on first down and converting it five-plus yards or past the sticks.

First Down situation Pass: Run Ratios

Buffalo, San Francisco, Green Bay, Cincinnati, and the Los Angeles Rams all have 8 or more yards per attempt passing coupled with being over a 54% success rate. Respectively, each team’s YPA on running the ball increases on 2nd and 3rd downs.

Second and Third down Pass: Run ratios

As the NFL continues its passing revolution, gone are the days of running the ball to set up the pass. With the league running two-high shells almost 50% of the time, the NFL offense has adjusted to throwing the ball more on early downs to gain more yards. Thus, able to run the ball effectively when needed to be.  

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