Dissecting the ballsiest coaching decision in sports history

The Super Bowl is watched, annually, by roughly 50 million people worldwide. It is, quite literally, the biggest stage in the world.

So to buck conventional wisdom, and to make the smart choice instead of the safe choice, on that big of a stage warrants some recognition.

Sean Payton, after tonight, you have earned my eternal respect. I may question your individual decisions, I may question your particular plan at some point, but I will never, as long as I live, question your fortitude. Faced with the choice between playing to win and playing to not lose, you chose to play to win. And it is because of that choice that you are now a Super Bowl Champion.

For posterity, reading this years after the fact, let me set the scene for you. The second half of Super Bowl XLIV* is about to begin. You are coaching the New Orleans Saints, the premier offensive juggernaut of the past several seasons, and unquestionably one of the two greatest teams of this current season. On the opposite sideline are the Indianapolis Colts--a team who plays the game the same way you do, just as well, and is just as successful in doing so. At the half, you trail 10-6. The only reason you haven't given up more points is that your offense held the ball for all but six plays of the second quarter. Your defense has given up two ugly scoring drives and come up with two stops--one of which was purely because of starting field position (their own 1 yard line) and pure luck (Austin Collie dropping an easy first-down catch with nobody anywhere close to him). Your defense has done nothing to suggest that they are capable of slowing down Peyton Manning, much less stopping him. So what do you do?

You shake things up. I'd like to think you come into the locker room, and open your halftime speech with the last thirteen words that anyone on your team expects to hear.

"Gentlemen, we are going to start the second half with an onside kick."

Silence. Players are looking at each other quizzically, not entirely sure if they heard you right. And then, I'd like to think that you outlined your plan to your team. Made them believe, if the media and the fans and the rest of the vultures never would. If this plan fails, it's your coaching career. If it succeeds, well... it's your coaching career.

To the defense, first.

"I know every single one of you sees this as a vote of no confidence. I want you to know that this isn't the truth. I know you can stop Manning, I just watched you do it twice. (I'd like to think you'd be smart enough not to bring up the dropped-pass loophole. Your defense's pride is wounded already, no use rubbing salt in the wound.) But stopping him isn't enough--we need to rattle him. Shake him up. Make him KNOW that he isn't the new Golden Boy, the Man Who Can Do No Wrong.

He's already coming on the field confident--his two scoring drives have given him that right and then some. What we want is him coming on the field overconfident. Thinking that we're THAT convinced of his superiority that we are willing to concede the touchdown to him. We need him overconfident, and all 11 of you hungry. Because if he comes out overconfident, and you shut him down, it rattles him that much harder. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

We want him tumbling. We want him mired in self-doubt. We want every pass to have a hesitation, every at-the-line call to be self-second-guessed. And if you stop him from our 40, you've got that. You men are all professionals. Well, this is your profession. Right here. One drive, for everything you've ever wanted. If we don't get this recovery, you've got one drive to lay it all on the line. Stop him, and I guarantee that we will win this game. Let him score, and you can spend the rest of your lives wondering what might have been. But I trust that you men can--and will--stop him when it matters. And THAT is why I'm starting the half with an onside kick."

To the offense:

"You own these guys. Plain and simple. They have seen you for 14 of the past 15 minutes, and you can bet your ass that they are sick of it. For three years now, the experts have called you guys the best offense in the game. This defense wants no part of another drive against you guys. If we recover this kick, they are looking at another long stretch on the field against the Saints Juggernaut. We have control of them. It's time to twist the knife. I know that if we can get you the ball, the game is over. There is no way that their defense comes back after three torturous drives in a row. There is no way that Manning gets into a rhythm after spending a quarter and a half on the bench. For two weeks now, the media has been hyping you guys: the Saints are an offensive team, the Saints offense is the reason they are in the Super Bowl. You've got a hell of a reputation--now is the time to live up to it."

And to the kick coverage team:

"To the ten of you men; each one of you will have a shot at making Super Bowl history. For the majority of you, your lone claim to fame up to this point in your life is that you are a member of an NFC Champion. That's all fine and good. But I am not sending the hands team out for this kick--that would give it away. I'm going to give every one of you unsung heroes a shot at immortality. One of you (possibly University of Wisconsin alum Jonathan Casillas?) will walk off of this field with the football in your hands, knowing that you just swung the momentum of a Super Bowl more fiercely than any man since Scott Norwood. For many of you guys, who fought tooth and nail to make it in this league, this is literally your opportunity of a lifetime. Make it count."

I'd like to think that this is what Sean Payton told his team at halftime. Regardless of what was actually said, let's recognize the decision for what it was--a declaration of brass balls. The decision to stand up and take your shot, rather than settling for second-best. It's a decision that not many people would be willing to make, and it is his ability to make that decision that made Sean Payton a champion.