Here’s the deal with Kevin Gilbride gracefully making way for the new Giants offensive coordinator:
If Jerry Reese doesn’t find new blockers to keep Eli Manning upright, John Mara might as well be offensive coordinator.
If Reese doesn’t get Manning a running back who can provide balance, Steve Tisch might as well be offensive coordinator.
If Reese doesn’t get Manning a tight end who can threaten defenses over the middle and in the red zone, Ryan Nassib might as well be offensive coordinator.
And if Manning doesn’t improve his footwork and decision-making, Senior Vice President of communications Pat Hanlon might as well be offensive coordinator.
When your offense sinks to 28th in the NFL, when your owner declares that offense “broken,” it is convenient to target your offensive coordinator and make him the scapegoat and cry that a new voice — perhaps former Giants quarterbacks coach Mike Sullivan — is desperately needed.
Except Manning was on record saying he liked the voice he had heard across the past eight seasons.
And Manning, the brains behind the operation, serves as de facto offensive coordinator.
So be careful what you wish for, Giants fans.
The offensive coordinator generally is as unpopular as the backup quarterback is popular. Ask Woody Johnson and Rex Ryan — they’ve had three offensive coordinators in three years.
When your franchise quarterback slips, the offensive coordinator — not the head coach ownership wants to keep — will take the fall for failing to get a Jerrel Jernigan on the field earlier.
The offensive coordinator mockingly referred to as “Killdrive,” in part because he failed to help Manning and Tom Coughlin to a third Super Bowl championship.
We have recently seen, however, that change can be beneficial to a quarterback who doesn’t realize he might need to be shaken out of a comfort zone. Mara undoubtedly noticed Philip Rivers’ renaissance under Mike McCoy and Ken Whisenhunt this season once Norv Turner was let go as Chargers head coach. Fresh ideas appear to have stimulated Rivers, and Sunday he will be trying to upset the Bengals in Cincinnati.
“It’s a nice mix,” Rivers said in October. “Everybody in the league runs similar concepts, but it’s just how you call them and different ways to go about it.”
The shotgun draw and absence of a screen game drove Giants fans bonkers. The offense wasn’t flexible or unpredictable enough. It was too vanilla. All that. I get it. I thought Gilbride was apt to take too many shots on third-and-short when he became seduced by single coverage on the outside. But remember, Manning has the freedom to change the play at the line of scrimmage too. And remember, Hakeem Nicks didn’t win his one-on-one battles the way a No. 1 receiver is paid to win them. Or hopes to be paid to win them.
Rivers, on the other hand, has been rejuvenated by a system that emphasizes getting the ball out and making quicker decisions for high-percentage throws.
“That’s probably been the biggest difference, I would say, in the offense, other than the terminology,” Rivers said recently. “I’ve probably thrown a lot fewer balls 25 yards down the field than I have in years past. That’s really more of what I did all my career in college. I think there are games when you throw it down the field when it presents itself and there are games when you’re throwing the shorter stuff.”
Gilbride — and Coughlin — and Manning — probably should have used more no-huddle offense. But if Reese doesn’t find a better supporting cast around Manning, the quarterback likely won’t be fixed, and the new offensive coordinator will be assailed for his no-offense huddle.