Freeze the crack toss with the ball still in midair. First quarter of the NFC championship game, 7:50 left in the first quarter. Saquon Barkley is about to take his first carry of the day 60 yards to the house, but before he touches the ball, the inevitability of the play—and, really, this Philadelphia Eagles offense—has already taken shape.
DeVonta Smith is feared enough to take a defender with him from the strong side of the formation to the weak side, leaving no outside defenders. He’s also enough of a weapon as a ball carrier to just, for a second, force defenders to worry that he may take a jet sweep handoff given the way Jalen Hurts opens up out of the snap. A.J. Brown is big enough that, as he turns his frame inward like a recreational basketball player setting a hard pick, he’s already created a large, prohibitive roadblock for pursuing defenders who realize that Barkley, not Smith, is getting the ball and have to adjust their path. And, Jordan Mailata is fast enough that, immediately upon getting out of his stance, he is in an attacking, hunter-style position ready to hurl to the ground any poor soul who comes in his direction. In a few seconds, he will grab a Washington Commanders defender by the chest and push him into a crashing wall of human bodies.
What Barkley does next, breaking arm tackles from Jeremy Chinn and Quan Martin before cutting upfield into open space and sprinting for the end zone, is impressive though largely impossible without a gap in front of Barkley that looked to be at least four yards wide. Mailata and Brown push four bodies into a pile.
The Eagles thumped the Commanders 55–23 on Sunday at Lincoln Financial Field, guaranteeing a return to the Super Bowl for the second time in three years, but not without cementing an incredible identity shift from the last time they advanced to the sport’s biggest stage. While they may look far less multifaceted than they did in 2022, this, like their offense, is just a bit of a headfake. Philadelphia has a better EPA per play rate than it did in ’22 and a success rate nearly as high. In both seasons, the Eagles finished No. 1 in rushing EPA, though the 2024 version came with dramatically fewer targets for receivers such as Brown and Smith (145 and 136, respectively in ’22 and 97 and 89 in ’24). But through their Super Bowl gap years, the Eagles have built a team amoebic enough to torture almost any defensive front. Much like the best of Kyle Shanahan’s San Francisco 49ers teams or Sean McVay’s Los Angeles Rams teams, nearly anyone can be a blocker, and everybody is part of an unfolding story.
Unlike those teams, the Eagles have artfully repurposed their lineup in real time. Some of the best playmakers in the NFL have become the best blockers, for example. Some of the most explosive players have become the best actors. While the entirety of this experiment has felt incredibly unsustainable, both from the physical sense in asking these players to consistently perform outside of their comfort zone and the emotional sense in asking wide receivers to take some major gaps between signature 100-yard games, or asking the star running back in the midst of a historic season to watch the quarterback collect rushing touchdowns at the goal line, Sunday’s win was proof of concept. Anyone can—and will—eat, so long as the rest is taken care of. That shift, precipitated by the arrival of Barkley and the convenience of having an offense that subtracts more turnover-worthy plays and punishes wary defenses (the Eagles have seen notable increases in average time per drive and average plays per drive since that season despite maintaining the same points per drive rate), has made them a more formidable Super Bowl contender than the last iteration to make the season finale.
Let’s examine another example. A Brown receiving touchdown, if you can believe it—on a day the Eagles scored seven rushing touchdowns. Before the television broadcast comes in, Brown looks at tight end Dallas Goedert, who is lined up to Brown’s inside. Brown is smart enough to wave Goedert off, understanding that the tight end will eventually make his way to the other side of the formation, dragging another Commanders defender along for the ride and leaving him in single coverage. Now pause. Second quarter, 42 seconds remaining, Eagles already up by eight points. Hurts is savvy enough to see Chinn lagging as he tracks Goedert, creating a mass of humanity in the Commanders’ backfield, so he snaps the ball. Smith is enlightened enough to target the one Commanders defender—Martin—by bending his route right at Martin long enough to prevent him from helping to cover Brown.
And Brown, as useful a run blocker as he’s become, is even better weaponized when throwing down a handful of stutter steps and bodying up a helpless cornerback in the end zone. Possible without the motioning, the deception, the timing of the snap and the perfection of Smith’s complementary route? Maybe. But there is no chance it looks this effortless; this completely and totally demoralizing to a defense that has so many hurdles to clear before it can start to dissect and defend the play.
Against the Commanders, the Eagles provided the definitive answer for their most hardened skeptics (raises hand), who logged similar complaints about a scheme that can look colorless and drab despite its collective star power. While this playoff run was rife with opponent missteps and featured an almost comical montage of opponent fumbled kickoffs, boneheaded penalties and turnovers that have bounced into fortuitous hands, the Eagles are winning because of this brand of football devoted to selflessness and, quite simply, being in the correct place at the correct time.
The Eagles of Super Bowl LIX have, in a way, taken the offensive pressure off the Eagles of Super Bowl LVII. No longer in need of being spectacular, they can—and will—be where they are supposed to be for the greater good.
This article was originally published on www.si.com as The Eagles Are Better Positioned to Win the Super Bowl Than Last Time.
