The Top 12 Worst Games of 2021: VII

Browns at Vikings, Week 4: Final Score: 14-7. You Figure Out the Rest.

If the Heinicke–Bridgewater tilt was a “low wattage” affair, and if Brady-Manning circa 2007 would be the highest voltage possible for a quarterback duel, then this game would be expected to fall somewhere right in the middle. Like, maybe exactly in the middle. And not only were these quarterbacks average or a bit better than average, but their respective teams were good enough to promise excitement and exhilaration. I mean, look at how these teams made out in 2020 – the Browns won their first playoff game since their 1999 resurrection, and the Vikings seemed to put things together after a horrendous start, all the while sporting the best rookie receiver campaign since Randy Moss colored defenses purple back in 1998. Did we receive anything approaching what this game’s potential could have lived up to? Well, it’s No. 7 on this list. Do the math.

Any game where you hear C.J. Ham’s name called twice on the opening drive can only be so good. And a game where the Browns go for it twice on 4th down inside the Vikings’ 10 and fail to convert twice (one ended up resulting in a new set of downs due to penalty, not because of any special play from Baker Mayfield or his merry band of Browns) can only be so good, too. Neither of these facts illustrate just how stunningly drowsy this game was as well as this one, though – the Browns got to 14 points not by scoring two touchdowns, but instead by scoring a touchdown, a two-point conversion, and two field goals. What universe are we living in where that’s enough offensive production to win on the road in Minnesota? The answer: this universe, which is far crueller and far stranger to watchers of America’s game than you’d think or hope. The Vikings marched straight down the field on their first drive, going on a vintage Vikes rampage for 14 plays that included three 3rd down conversions and one 4th down conversion, the playcalling showing a healthy and balanced mix of Cousins passing and Dalvin Cook rushes (Alexander Mattison got an attempt in, too, as did aforementioned beefy stalwart C.J. Ham, who thundered forth to keep the drive alive on 4th down and 1 at the Browns’ 9-yard line). Ham’s heroics preceded a Cousins illegal forward pass, which sent the purple boys back a few yards, but Kirk eventually found all-galaxy WR Justin Jefferson in the endzone for 6. PAT, 7-0, Vikes. They were on pace for about 56 points or so, if you cared to extrapolate. And they were at home. And their opponents were the sad sack Browns. It was practically in the bag.

Ah, but like their ancestral late-eleventh-century forebears, this conquest was to be far less Lindisfarne and far more Stamford Bridge. From that point on, the Viking thrust was powerless, with only 180 yards gained from that point forward. Even worse may be the total plays they ran – after 14 total plays on their first drive, the purple gang ran a measly 49 plays the rest of the game. They were hardly on the field. Which is surprising, since their opponents were just about as bad, if not worse, than they were. Ask any Browns fan who watched this game with intent and they will tell you – this was one of the low points of the Baker Mayfield Experience in Cleveland. Not only because he was really, really bad, but also because even his most devoted zealots seemed to in unison feel the need to offer disclaimers, explanations, and straight up apologies about his performance. “This was a bad Baker game” was an utterance commonly to be heard following this contest’s conclusion, and it escaped the lips of even the most exemplary defenders within the Oklahoma passer’s cadre of supporters. One must wonder at which point the Browns front office decided to forgo the finest quarterback in franchise history to pursue embattled and controversial passer Deshaun Watson – perhaps this was the game. Baker was visibly, if not statistically, putrid, racking up a sorrowful 155 yards on 33 attempts for zero touchdowns. At least he didn’t throw an interception, the reader will declaim, but he did the next best thing, taking a sack on 4th and short in the opponent’s redzone. It was very probably a rough, rough watch for former quarterbacks who wanted these (admittedly unheralded) passers to step up. Step up, they did not – this was maybe the worst quarterback game that featured two deeply entrenched starters of the entire 2021 season. This issue might be symptomatic of the style of ball these coaches want to play, though. Think about it – how many defensive coaches end up with as good a quarterback as Kirk Cousins? Assume that Cousins is good, of course, but truly ponder the question. Someone like Mike Zimmer – i.e., a defensive coach who has a truly good quarterback – does not come around often. Equally worth our contemplation is someone like Kevin Stefanski who, hilariously, was Kirk Cousins’ offensive coordinator for a couple of seasons before getting the job in Cleveland in 2020. It’s funnier the more you think about it: the guy who was hired in Cleveland because he maximized the abilities of Kirk Cousins barely concocted a serviceable gameplan for a first overall pick with Odell Beckham, Jr., Jarvis Landry, Austin Hooper, Nick Chubb and Kareem Hunt on the roster, but managed to hold his former protégé to such a bad performance (Cousins tallied 203 yards with one touchdown and one pick) that his own, even worse quarterback managed to succeed. It’s like a perverse ouroboros of NFL coaching acumen.

But, ultimately, it may be unfair to judge this game against so punishing and opprobrious a standard. After all, even though they are largely serviceable quarterbacks, the Browns and Vikings do not channel primarily through Baker Mayfield and Kirk Cousins – they go through Nick Chubb and Dalvin Cook, so maybe we should judge this game on the meritorious moiling of those two superstars. This was their sort of game, after all. But even when we brandish this measuring stick we have to take pause and gawk at the ugliness of the content – Chubb was solid, going 21 for 100 with a long of 13, meaning he was doing good stuff on most rushes (if he’d had a long of, say, 50 yards, one might look with suspicion on the other 20 rushes). But Dalvin was potently silent in this game, going only 9 for 34 and failing to deliver the impact the Vikings needed to steal this game. His long run was 13, too. Not good enough!

As with a whole lot of bad games, this one ended with a sad Hail Mary attempt. But not just any Hail Mary attempt – for whatever reason, the Vikings decided to run what was tantamount to a spread formation on the last play, meaning there were only two receivers on either side of the line. How does that make any kind of sense? The whole idea of a last ditch Hail Mary is to “overload a spot,” as Jim Harbaugh would say. Instead of this long-odds but time-tested method, what does Kirk do? He tries to bullet-pass a touchdown to a slot receiver with 3 seconds left. C’mon, man. A WTF end to a WTF game – fitting, I guess. Let’s give this game a short Viking funeral and let’s not think about it anymore.

C.J. Ham receives the handoff. This is commonly regarded as one of the landmark moments in the history of pro football by true students of the game.