In their final season under Jeff Fisher, the 2016 Los Angeles Rams scored 224 points, or just 14.0 points per game.  In their first year under Sean McVay, the 2017 Los Angeles Rams scored 478 points, or 29.9 points per game. That 15.9 points per game increase displaced what the ’99 Rams achieved and is the largest year-over-year increase by any team since 1950.

And yet, on Sunday, as the Rams made it to the Super Bowl with more than an assist from the referees, I wouldn’t blame you for thinking Fisher was still the coach of the Rams. McVay, the prototype for every new coaching hire, on the biggest stage of his life, made two of the most conservative coaching calls of his young career.

While everyone expected McVay to be on the cutting edge of coaching decisions, the aggressive, innovative coaching star made two conservative calls in the final stages of the game that came straight out of the Fisher playbook. And both nearly cost his team the game. ^[1]The only aggressive call he made was calling a fake punt with all-world punter Johnny Hekker, but that is straight out of the Fisher playbook. In five years together, Hekker had 13 fake punts under … Continue reading

1) Fourth-and-Goal, at the 1-foot line, 5:16 remaining in the 4th quarter, Trailing 20-17

The Rams have one of the best offensive lines in the league, and that’s especially true when it comes to the ground game. In the regular season, Los Angeles running backs rushed 371 times for 1,855 yards (second-most behind Seattle), a 5.00 YPC average that led the league. The Rams running backs rushed for 106 first downs and 19 touchdowns; both of those numbers were one shy for leading the league. And the Rams were fresh off their best rushing performance of the season, a 273-yard bludgeoning of the Cowboys.

The Rams drafted Todd Gurley with a high first round pick, and then rewarded him with a monster contract. One of the primary reasons for investing in the running game is that — regardless of how unimportant the running game may be in general — in high-leverage situations, an effective running game can be really valuable.

During the McVay era, the Rams have had 11 plays at the opponent’s 1-yard line on 3rd or 4th down, including earlier that day against the Saints. Los Angeles scored a touchdown 8 times. Given that this was at the one-foot line, and that a field goal would only tie the game, this seemed like a no-brainer.

And yet, McVay kicked the field goal. That decision alone dropped the Rams win probability from 55% to 43%, according to ESPN.

How do you get there? This decision is very simple to analyize if you group the outcomes into three discrete events.

1) Go For It And Miss — Assume Saints Take Possession At The One-Yard Line

According to PFR, New Orleans would have a 57.4% win probability if they had the ball at their own 1, up by 3, facing 1st-and-10 with 5 minutes to go.

Therefore, the Rams would have a 42.6% win probability if they went for it and failed. (Yes, this assumes the failed conversion isn’t a sack, or a turnover returned for a touchdown, and all sorts of low-probability events).

2) Kick the FG — Assume the Saints Take Possession at the 25-yard line

This is what happened, of course. ^[2]Well actually, the Saints returned the kickoff to the 30, but the 25-yard line is the median expectation. This puts the Saints, according to PFR, in a 51.7% win probability situation:

Therefore, the Rams would have a 48.3% win probability if they kicked the field goal and made it (yes, this ignores a miss).

Take a step back and think about this from the Saints perspective. The difference between being up by 3 but having the ball at your own 1-yard line vs. being tied but having the ball at your own 25 is relatively small: it is less than 6% of win probability. That’s because having the ball at your own 1-yard line is really bad for an offense.

3) Go For It And Score — Assume the Saints Take Possession at the 25-yard line

Here, this means the Rams are now up 24-20.  If the Saints take the ball at their own 25 (same as after a made field goal), but down 4, their win probability drops to 40.4%.

Therefore, the Rams win probability would be 59.6% had they went for it and scored the touchdown.

Conclusion

Let’s use round numbers: LA would have a 60% chance of winning if they went for it and made it, a 48% chance if they kicked the FG, and a 43% chance if they went for it and missed.  But let’s say you disagree with the numbers slightly: it is hard to argue that the difference between going for it and missing (here, less than 6%) is larger than the difference between going for it and making it (here, more than 11%).  But let’s pretend that they were the same.

Even still, it’s obvious you go for it, because the odds of conversion are greater than 50%, and that goes double when the “and-1” distance is really more like one foot than one yard.  Given that the likelihood of success is much greater than 50%, and the difference between making it (vs. a field goal) is much greater than the difference between missing it (vs. a field goal), this should have been a no-brainer.

As it turned out, McVay channeled his inner Fisher, and went conservative.  And it nearly cost his team the game. Had the Saints managed the clock better, or the defensive pass interference penalty was properly called, we are spending all day today criticizing McVay’s meek decision. Coaches all the time conjure up game situation specific reasons to be conservative: here, in a case where the math says be aggressive, it’s particularly embarrassing given the investment in Gurley and the overall strength of the Rams running game.

2) Playing for a 57-yard field goal to win the game

The Rams faced 3rd-and-7 at the Saints 39-yard line in (at this point in time) sudden death overtime. A field goal wins the game.  And while many coaches get conservative, only the most conservative of coaches play for a 55+ yard field goal to win the game.  But by throwing a screen pass (that went incomplete), that’s exactly what McVay did.   It was classic Schottenheimer/Fox/Fisher, eschewing any sense of risk once you were in field goal “range” as if such a description of a football field was binary.  You are not either in field goal range or not in field goal range.  Every yard helps, and playing for a 57-yard field goal is, well, nuts.

From 50 to 59 yards, Greg Zuerlein had been 19 of 29 over the last 5 years.  From 40-49 yards, he was 28 out of 35.  A 57-yard field goal is, at best, a 50/50 proposition, even in a dome.  If you can make one more first down, your win probability is going to start to shoot north of 75%.  The odds of an interception or a sack are very low, and if you are going to spend the first overall pick on a quarterback, and have the offensive wizard of the NFL, can’t you do better than what Fisher would have done with Case Keenum?

Had the kick failed, consider the situation: the Saints would have had the ball at their own 47 yard line needing only a field goal to win. New Orleans’ win probability would have been very high, considering that the Saints score on over half of their drives as it is, without outstanding field position. A missed field goal would make the Saints prohibitive favorites to win, either by scoring on the ensuing drive or still having a good chance to win even if they failed (as the Rams would have most likely taken their next possession inside their own 20). With a bad passing game, such conservative play-calling could be excused. But this was a level of conservatism that was not justified by the situation, and McVay was fortunate that his kicker bailed him out.