I’ve made a big deal about safeties in the past on this here Chronic, as they’re not only fun to watch, but also criminally undervalued.  A common belief is that you’d rather have a shutdown corner, or a great linebacker, than a great safety, whose benefits are often intangible and inconsistent.  And safeties, not unlike the NHL, also don’t translate terribly well to television, leaving them relatively ignored.  Hopefully, by the time that all five of you finish reading this post, you’ll think differently about safeties, and, hopefully, be a little ashamed of yourselves.  It’s the least I can do.

A History Lesson:

In the beginning, when God made football, the forward pass was, infamously, out like plaid.  The free safety, to the degree that that position was utilized, existed only as a counterpart for the quarterback when defending the option.  Playing assignment football (zone defense existed then in basketball but not in football, another great knock against safeties), the free safety manned up on the quarterback and would shut down a keeper while a linebacker dealt with the possible pitch.  The strong safety, meanwhile, did not really exist, with that position either serving as another linebacker or, far more likely, another defensive lineman.

In our heady post-Sammy Baugh days, the forward pass has become the defining feature of football (whether you like it or not, Jim Tressel).  Until becoming factored in in the 70s, zone defense was usually passed over in favor of man-to-man defense.  Zones first became truly important, and safeties along with them, in the Chuck Noll’s Steel Curtain defense.  What we now know as the Tampa-2 (and Saints fans should definitely know it when they see it by now, as all their divisional foes will be using it to some degree or another) originated with the 70’s Steelers.  Blitzing became unnecessary due to the raw power of the defensive line, so all back seven dropped into coverage.  Corners like Mel Renfro could play extremely aggressive press coverage while the safeties stayed deep, giving them a defined purpose beyond "man up on that tight end/halfback" or "double cover so-and-so"—protecting the deep ball.

Because of personnel considerations, the safeties began to develop personalities (they’re…evolving!).  The free safety became lighter, and more dedicated to pass coverage, like a heftier cornerback.  The strong safety, meanwhile, was primarily dedicated to stopping the run.  In the present, these characterizations are still somewhat true, although not to the extent that they were in the late seventies/early 80s (when free safeties were really just slow corners and strong safeties were linebackers who couldn’t tackle as well).

Then, in 1981, the San Francisco 49ers had one of the best drafts in team history, and with their first pick selected the man who would revolutionize the safety position, USC cornerback Ronnie Lott. 

The Effect of a Great Safety:

Ronnie Lott began as a cornerback after being drafted, and was the most successful defender (7 picks, three returned for touchdowns) of that year’s Super Bowl turnaround DBs, with Dwight Hicks, Eric Wright and Carlton Williamson rounding out the bunch.  Despite the fact that the 49ers only generated 5 more sacks than the previous year, their scoring defense, with one of the youngest secondaries in the league, skyrocketed from 26th (out of 28) to 2nd overall.  This was surely helped by the fact that the team generated a whopping 28 more turnovers than the previous year, leading the average opposing QB rating to drop from a ridiculous 95.7 to a bizarro-ridiculous 60.2.  Sure enough, that defense (even more so than the offense, which traditionally gets a little more than its fair share of attention due to some clutch comebacks) led the team to consecutive Super Bowl wins.

However, the team’s defense, though stellar, began to stagnate in that era of great defenses.  Lott, its best player, amassed truly monstrous tackle totals for a cornerback (108 in 1983), but had his pick totals drop as teams stopped throwing to him.  Many of his tackles came from cleaning up the missed assignments of teammates, and the average opposing team’s yards per carry was an above-average 4.3. 

And so, in 1985, Lott was given time at the free safety position for the first time, switching places with Dwight Hicks before the fifth game of the season.  In the remaining 12 games, Lott led the team in tackles with 104 and amassed the most interceptions since his rookie year (6).  Despite Lott’s excellent season, the defense as a whole made fewer big plays, although opponents' ypc dropped to Reggie territory, a mediocre 3.9.

In 1986, however, Lott’s first full season at free safety, he had arguably the greatest season by any defensive player in the history of the game.  In the 49ers’ scheme, the linebackers (notably Charles Haley) were particularly blitz-happy, trusting that the secondary would capitalize on rushed throws.  They could only do this because of Ronnie Lott, who played a deep centerfield zone and watched the quarterback’s eyes, waiting for the play.  Covering sideline to sideline, he not only covered the pass better than any free safety since him, he also dealt crushing blows to the run game.  In 1986, Ronnie Lott amassed 10 interceptions, 2 sacks, 3 forced fumbles, and led the team in tackles—all in 14 games.  Ed Reed, by comparison, has only had one 70-tackle season and has never had a 10-pick season, despite playing 16 games almost every season.  That year the average yards per carry for opposing running backs dropped to 3.8, and the average QB Rating plummeted to a truly abysmal 55.8. Eventually the 49ers were dismantled in the playoffs by the Super Bowl-winning Giants, but it had little to do with Lott’s defense, and much to do with NFL MVP Lawrence Taylor and his persuasiveness against the vaunted West Coast offense.

It was at free safety that Lott became most malevolent.  His persona, and his violent hits, are already legendary, but here's a little background info for those of you who are unfamiliar with his work:

Lott has separated or dislocated his right shoulder twice and separated the left one once. He has pinched a nerve in his neck and broken or sprained three of his fingers. In 1985 he got his left pinkie caught between his shoulder pads and the helmet of Dallas running back Timmy Newsome. The bone at the tip of the finger was shattered, and when the bone failed to heal, Lott had the tip amputated. He has also played with torn cartilage in his right knee and with a cracked tibia in his right leg.
— Sports Illustrated, January 23, 1989

"He doesn't care about his own body, so why should he care about yours?" — 49ers guard Randy Cross

"He hit me so hard he knocked the taste out of my mouth." -- Jerry Rice, speaking of a day in practice.

"He does not understand the concept of giving up, he does not understand the concept of defeat.  And even when we have lost games, when you go back and look at Ronnie Lott's play, he won!  He was not dominated, he was not defeated, he was not fooled, he was not tricked.  I think if you could think of one word to describe Ronnie Lott, it would be supreme...determination."  -- Harry Edwards, 49ers administration.

Lott remained dominant throughout the decade, never totaling fewer than 5 picks in a full season and winning two more Super Bowls before going to the Raiders, where he had one final, incredible season at strong safety.  Lott enabled the 49ers system to work by his discipline and instincts, recognizing blocking schemes and reading the quarterback’s eyes equally well.  Beyond that, he was a quiet, intense personality who considered his only outlet for expression to be his play on the field:  terrifying, violent expression, weaving a tapestry that is still hanging in space over the NFL.  For all the attention paid to Montana, the 49ers probably wouldn’t have won their next two Super Bowls without arranging their defense around Ronnie Lott.

Great Defenses Often Mean Great Safeties:

That, then, is an example of what a defense can be, when patterned around a single, dominant safety, which has since become much more common as teams follow Lott's example.  The closest thing to a mirror image I can think of is Gregg William's work with the late Sean Taylor, who had a few great years despite lacking a ton of talent outside of Sean.  It’s easy to say that Lott is an outlier because of his status as the GOAT for his position, but—fear not!—I’m prepared, ladies and gentlemen.  Here are three examples of safeties who have determined the course of their respective defenses:

Bob Sanders, of the Indianapolis Colts:  Much is made of Bob’s impact on the Colts, such as when he famously reversed the fortunes of the worst run defense in the league upon returning for their Super Bowl-winning 2006 postseason.  Bob is certainly not the only factor enabling a successful Colts defense, but he’s probably the most important one.  The Colts’ Tampa-2 scheme employs both Bob and his counterpart at free safety, Antoine Bethea, in deep zones, along with Indy’s criminally underrated middle linebacker, Gary Brackett.   Because Bethea and Brackett are dedicated to their deep zones, they allow Bob to cheat up towards the line of scrimmage, playing a shallower zone that appears, at times, to be a "robber" in the flats (which Bob often plays outright in a Cover-3).  Playing closer to the line allows Bob to make plays against the run and close quickly on short passes while in a Tampa-2 skeleton defense, limiting big plays and getting the offense off the field.  Without Bob at full strength to stop runs, the Colts’ undersized defense (especially when they’re without quality defensive tackle play, as they were last year) stays on the field all game, keeping Manning’s explosive offense off of it. 

After the colossal 41-10 debacling of the Saints in 2007, Cold Hard Football Facts.com did a little analysis and determined that when Bob Sanders is in the Colts’ lineup, they allow 40% fewer points on average a game.  This was before he finished his best season, as Defensive Player of the Year.

Troy Polamalu, of the Pittsburgh Steelers:  Polamalu is a little overrated, I find (nice work jumping Anquan Boldin’s route and letting up that last Fitzgerald touchdown in SB43, Troy), but he’s nevertheless extremely important to the Steelers’ defense.  Coming off his best season in 2008, Troy allows Dick LeBeau to blitz with impunity, knowing that Troy will capitalize on the pressure generated by Woodley and Harrison more often than not.  Should the blitzes misfire, Troy can clean it up; a running back who thinks he’s free clearly doesn’t realize who he’s facing yet.  There is no daylight against a Steeler defense, because Polamalu can take what should be 20-yard runs and turn them into 3-yard gains.  Just like with Bob Sanders, stretch plays, toss plays, all manner of outside running—they just don’t exist against Troy Polamalu.  With his ability to rove and capitalize on offensive mistakes, along with his ability to run down halfbacks before they make big plays, Troy Polamalu, even more than reigning DPOY James Harrison, is the most important part of LeBeau's defense.

Ed Reed, of the Baltimore Ravens:  Reed is also a little overrated, as his tendency to jump routes has cost him in the past (I remember at least one 75-yard touchdown pass to Steve Smith that never would have happened if Reed had sat in his zone), and he's not the greatest tackler.  Regardless, Reed is, like Lott, the central figure in that pass defense.  Even more important than Reed’s patent ability to take over games (ask Chad Pennington how Ed does against predictable offenses), is the threat of him taking over games.  His very presence in a defensive backfield renders opposing offensive coordinators cautious, lest they get the ball in Reed’s hands, and inevitably watch him strut in for a touchdown.  At his best, he’s like a shutdown corner, for the entire center field.

As a result, the Ravens can blitz like madmen.  I’ve seen 9-men fronts, absolute madness, because of the threat Ed Reed poses.  Zone blitzes work because the offensive coordinator doesn’t have time to wonder what will happen if Haloti Ngata goes into coverage—he’s just trying to figure out Ed.  The Ravens’ defense thrives on the symbiotic relationship between Reed and his pass rush, and without it the Ravens’ defense is just a bunch of guys posturing in purple.

The Future (of this post at least):

I could go on all day, believe me (want to hear about LaRon Landry and the Redskins?), but I’ll spare you before I hit Bill Simmons mailbag-level proportions.  I hope you see now the effect that a great safety can have on a defense, and how some of the best NFL defenses today are predominantly built around their safeties.  Even though I don’t necessarily think that the ghost of Darren Sharper is going to be the messiah for the Saints’ pass defense, his ability to diagnose plays, corral younger talent, and hopefully prevent the deep ball should allow us to get respectable (yay mediocrity!).  A successful transition from Usama Young, or drafting a stud like Eric Berry, would really get me talking.

I feel like I could explain more about the terminology and responsibilities of safeties, along with the direction I feel the Saints are heading in defensively.  By all means, if you don't understand something in this post, disagree with me, or just want to talk about the Saints secondary, comment away.  I feel like I've said too much already.