How DeSean Jackson creates room for himself
DeSean Jackson played for the Philadelphia Eagles for six seasons. Then, in March, they shockingly cut him. They said he was unfit for the roster, not that he was expensive. A supposed diva, allegedly associated with gangs.
“It was purely a football decision,” head coach Chip Kelly said.
One hundred thirty miles south to Washington D.C., down the Blue Line and straight ahead on 1600 FedEx Way, Jackson found a new home: FedEx Field. His arrival made him a rival. He was a Redskin.
Looking for an explosive receiver, they signed him five days after he was cut. He averaged 16.2 yards per catch in 2013. Only Aldrick Robinson came close to matching that with 20.3 among Redskins pass catchers, but he had nearly 1,000 less yards receiving last season. Their best receiver, Pierre Garcon, didn’t bring much to the yards per catch category. He only managed 11.9.
Neither Robinson nor Garcon could be relied on to consistently provide big plays. But Jackson can. He’s had at least one play of 60 yards or more every season. He’s a proven No. 1. wide receiver whose only had less than 912 yards once in the last six years.
When healthy, he can stretch defenses horizontally and vertically, knock out walls and blow the roof off. His quickness makes him unjammable. His speed downfield is unstoppable. Defenses struggle with both, and Jackson’s coaches took advantage of it last season.
He had 25 plays of 20 or more yards, second most in the NFL. Many of these came on the 53 in-routes and 157 go-routes he ran, according to Pro Football Focus.
In Week 2 against the San Diego Chargers he ran both successfully. The first, a 20-yard dig route, came 15 seconds before the end of the first half.
Twin receivers were set to the wide side. Jackson was on the outside, closer to the numbers than the sideline. His eyes were on the ball, his hands loosely to his sides, waiting for the snap. A cornerback walked up to him and crouched a yard from the line of scrimmage.
Jackson hopped once and shook his shoulders outside, then cut inside. He hand-fought the cornerback as he made his way downfield and suddenly cut toward the middle. A tight spiral slammed into his hands and hugged his chest. Jackson fell to the ground.
Ten minutes into the next quarter, he sped by and tripled the previous yardage. A 61-yard touchdown on a go-route.
He was isolated one-on-one with a cornerback to the short side of the field before the snap. The Chargers were in single-high set, meaning one safety patrolled deep. This was a dangerous choice of coverage against Jackson; it was always a deep shot opportunity for the offense.
Jackson’s first two steps were outside, pressing the cornerback to the sideline and forcing him to open his hips up early.
Jackson then straightened up and took the Green Line downfield. The cornerback turned and for a moment looked like he was going to stay near Jackson’s outside hip. But when he tried to work to the other side of Jackson to deflect the ball he fell behind.
Jackson veered outside, and safety help was too far inside. The cornerback was, too.
“It was going to take about six seconds,” an analyst said about the touchdown.
What makes Jackson a tough assignment is that he’s quicker than typical speedsters. Usually speedsters aren’t extremely effective on non-vertical routes. They struggle to break down and create room to run. It’s equivalent to an NBA shooter who can’t create his own shot. Their coaches are forced to draw up plays that put them in specific positions to make specific plays.
But Jackson doesn’t lack lateral quickness. This shortens his time to make a cut or sink his hips, allowing him to separate from cornerbacks quicker. He uses this advantage and couples it with his deep speed, which frightens cornerbacks. They quickly loosen their cushion when he runs vertically, allowing him to find room underneath.
Eventually his teammates find room, too.