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Eagles
Jim Johnson may not be high profile, but his Eagles defense definitely gets noticed.
By JOHN ROMANO, Times Sports Columnist
© St. Petersburg Times, published January 18, 2003
PHILADELPHIA -- The man is a genius. You've got to know that much.
He reeks of knowledge. His word, by its very definition, is the truth.
Put him in a room filled with football's greatest minds and Jim Johnson will stand out. Fingers will point in his direction. Whispers will follow his trail. Everyone will seek the same essential wisdom.
Who the heck is that guy?
So it goes when genius arrives late in one's life. The Eagles defensive coordinator has coached more than 40 years at 10 stops. He has coached high school quarterbacks and college linebackers. He has been in the USFL and the NFL. He has been fired and promoted.
But, until lately, Johnson never has been called a genius.
"You sure you're not confusing me with Jimmy Johnson," he asks with complete innocence.
Heck no. You're the guy, Jim. The one everyone is talking about. The master of a screeching, snarling, unpredictable beast known as the Eagles defense.
So tell us, how does one achieve genius?
"Well," Johnson says thoughtfully, "you've got to have a job first."
This is the man the Bucs should fear most on Sunday. It's not Donovan McNabb. Shoot, this team won four consecutive games with someone named A.J. Feeley at quarterback. And it's not one of the four guys on defense going to the Pro Bowl. For crying out loud, the Eagles let Jeremiah Trotter, their best player on defense, walk away last year and still got better.
Nope, Johnson is the guy. He is the one who installed the league's most unpredictable defense. The one that failed to give up a touchdown the past three times the Bucs were in town. He is, when you think about it, Philadelphia's Monte Kiffin.
The comparison is not without merit. Johnson, like Kiffin, first made his mark as a college coach in the 1960s and '70s. They joined the pros within a year of each other in the '80s. Kiffin is 62. Johnson is 61. They were even college opponents from 1959-62 when Johnson was a quarterback at Missouri and Kiffin a lineman at Nebraska.
"We beat them every year," Johnson said. "I try to remind Monte of that whenever I see him."
But of all the similarities, the most striking is this:
It has taken until the past few years for either to get noticed.
And that, you have got to know, is a crying shame.
Think about some of the recent assistants to get head coaching jobs in the league. Marvin Lewis in Cincinnati. Jack Del Rio in Jacksonville. Before that, a John Fox in Carolina or a Jim Haslett in New Orleans. All defensive coordinators. None with as much experience.
Now Johnson will tell you he would like, as much as the next guy, to have a chance at being a head coach. But you get the sense he is simply happy, after all these years, to find recognition and success in Philadelphia.
Defense has driven Philadelphia's run and Johnson has had his hands on the wheel. The Eagles have been adequate on offense (10th in the NFL) and inconsistent on special teams. On defense, they have excelled.
Not that coach Andy Reid is surprised. A few years back, Reid was an assistant with the Packers and got a first-hand look at Johnson's work as a defensive coordinator in Indianapolis. When Reid was hired by the Eagles, one of his first calls was to convince Johnson to join him.
"We like to be aggressive," Reid said. "And that's Jim's style."
Aggressive is one word. Manic is another. The Eagles are easily the most daring defense in the NFL. They love to blitz. They love to play man coverage. They have replaced the concept of read and react with attack and annihilate.
"Jim could have the four best athletes in the world on the defensive line and he is still going to blitz," defensive tackle Darwin Walker said. "That's just who he is. That's what he likes to do."
Johnson says his aim is simple. Put pressure on an offense. Physical pressure is fine. Mental pressure is better. He wants the quarterback to worry about the blind side hit. He wants the offensive line to get frustrated trying to figure out which direction the rush is coming from. He wants the opposing coach to have to guess what the Eagles are going to do next.
The Eagles enter every game with 20-25 blitz packages. And different variations are added all of the time.
He might send a corner from either side. Maybe separately. Maybe together. A safety or a linebacker could come up the middle. The Eagles might rush six at a time. Or maybe just three. The Eagles have sacks from 15 players.
"He's got different people coming from all over the place. He's got them coming from places I don't even know about," cornerback Troy Vincent said. "He stresses that everything is going downhill. Everything is an attack. We're not just blitzing on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. We're blitzing every day of the week in practice. That's what he likes."
Of course, that is what Tampa Bay should fear. The last time the Bucs came to Veterans Stadium, their quarterbacks were sacked six times and Brad Johnson had a rib broken.
You might suggest the Bucs have an ace card. You might point out a defense that blitzes a lot is prone to giving up the big play.
Not around here.
Johnson's schemes are too sound and his secondary too talented in one-on-one coverage. When Tampa Bay last played here in October, it did not have a completed pass of more than 18 yards.
"Their scheme is unorthodox. A lot of blitzing, a lot of movement," Bucs coach Jon Gruden said. "Some are unorthodox and really exclusive to the Eagles. I credit that to Jim Johnson."
The Bucs know what they're facing. They know who they should fear.
Even if they don't always recognize him.