The Oklahoman

Ryan’s boys are proud of their dad

- Berry Tramel Columnist The Oklahoman

The Ryan twins of football fame have conflicting natures.

They are Oklahomans, born and somewhat bred. So naturally taught to be a little reserved. They also are Ryans. So a little outspoken. OK, OK, a lot outspoken.

“Okies, they’re humble, hard-working, tough people,” Rob Ryan said the other day when I called to talk about his dad, Buddy, who on April 26 goes into the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame.

“Dad had a little bit of ‘If I don’t tell you about it, how are you going to know?’” Rob said. “Ryans have to have a little cocky side to them. We’re Okies, but we do brag a little.”

And the Ryan twins, Rob and Rex, brag more than just a little about their dad.

Buddy Ryan was born in the Tillman County seat of Frederick, played football at Oklahoma A&M in 1953-55 and began a coaching career that made him one of the great defensive innovators in National Football League history.

The Ryan twins were born in Ardmore, but their parents split and they were raised in Canada until joining their father as high-school students. They returned to Oklahoma to attend Southweste­rn State University, then started a coaching career that has served both well. They ended up as dueling defensive coordinato­rs in Bedlam – Rex at OU under John Blake, 1998, and Rob at OSU under Bob Simmons, 1997-99.

Both have extensive NFL experience. Rex has been head coach of the Bills and Jets; he’s now an ESPN analyst. Rob just joined the Ravens’ staff, his eighth NFL franchise spanning 20 seasons.

They were back in Oklahoma in February 2020 for the announceme­nt that Buddy Ryan would enter the Hall of Fame. Buddy Ryan died in 2016 at age 85; Rex Ryan represente­d his dad at the Hall of Fame luncheon, with the

plan being that Rob would represent at the induction ceremonies. Alas, Rob’s new job will keep him tied up with the Ravens, since next week is draft week, so Rex again will do the honors.

No problem. Both Ryan twins are entertaini­ng and enthusiast­ic, especially about their dad’s place in football history.

“You know how people all credit Bill Walsh and (Don) Coryell with the passing game?” asked Rob. “That was my father with pressure defense.”

That’s not hyperbole. Buddy Ryan was a major figure in football evolution. He was the defensive line coach for the New York Jets from 1968-75; that first season was the Super Bowl-champion team. Then two years as d-line coach with the great Vikings of the 1970s, followed by eight years as defensive coordinato­r of the Chicago Bears, capped by the great 1985 team that won the Super Bowl and is considered the NFL’s best defense ever.

Ryan went on to be a head coach for seven years, with the Eagles and Cardinals, fashioning a 55-55-1 record. But his imprint, with his signature 46 defense, in which a safety becomes a linebacker and attacks the quarterbac­k, has lasted over the decades. The 46 was named for the jersey number of Bears safety Doug Plank, who moved into the box to give Chicago an eight-man front.

“The 46 was the first time people actually attacked protection­s,” Rob Ryan said. “That was part of his attack. He really majored in the 46 defense, invented as the nickel defense.”

Rob Ryan is willing and able to dive deeply into his father’s impact on NFL defenses.

Was Buddy Ryan’s secret schematic or communicat­ive? Did he outsmart opponents, or did he get his players to outperform opponents?

“Definitely, he had an unbelievab­le touch with players,” Rob said. “He could get a dead man to charge twice.”

But Rob said his father was ahead of the game on rushing the quarterbac­k. And the genesis was with the Jets, when legendary coach Weeb Ewbank spent many an hour trying to figure out how to protect his quarterbac­k, Joe Namath.

“What that light bulb was Weeb,” Rob Ryan said. “He thought Weeb Ewbank was years ahead of his time in the passing game. So dad’s philosophy was, if you’re spending that much time protecting your quarterbac­k, then I’m going to spend that much time getting to him. That’s how he establishe­d ‘I’m covering after your quarterbac­k.’”

Rob started reciting some of his dad’s best quips.

“When you hit the quarterbac­k, that whole team feels it.”

And why Buddy didn’t like to substitute with more defensive backs in passing situations: “Why hit the quarterbac­k with a little guy when you can hit him with a big guy.”

Which led to Bill Belichick’s observatio­n that “there’s a place in football for a good little guy, just not in front of a good big man.”

Said Rob, “The bigger they are, the harder they hit. He loved hitting those quarterbac­ks with his big linebacker­s.”

Buddy Ryan’s quest for a defensive edge led to all kinds of rule changes, not including the general protection of quarterbac­ks, who in Buddy’s days were endangered by his wanted-deador-alive mentality.

“He studied way more than people think,” Rob said. “He knew the game inside and out.”

If an opponent got inside the 5-yard line with less than 15 seconds left, Buddy Ryan would send 14 defenders on the field and make sure no touchdown was scored. A penalty flag would ensue, of course, but Ryan was determined to give the opponent just one snap to score a TD, or settle for a field goal. The rule was changed to prohibit plays from starting with that many players on the field.

Ryan had his punter, instead of kicking the ball, throw it high into the air, and many on the punt-return unit wouldn’t know it was a pass. The play tended to draw pass interferen­ce penalties when the punting team’s players would be blocked, trying to catch the ball. Again, the rule was changed, to prohibit such subterfuge.

Faking injury to stop the clock? Buddy Ryan did that, too, and now an injury costs a timeout or a runoff of time.

“I know it shocks everybody that he was the first one to do that, but he was,” Rob said sarcastica­lly. “He realized there was a flaw in the system, and he took advantage of it. So he did a lot of strategy things. They don’t realize how smart he was.”

The antidote for the 46 defense was the spread offenses in vogue today. Quick throws to receivers in space negated the blitzes.

But remnants of the 46 still live. “The really great teams that pressure the quarterbac­k, like in Baltimore, they’ll find ways to run this kind of stuff,” Rob Ryan said.

He said Alabama’s “mint” defense is a version of the 46. And the Tampa Bay Buccaneers ran a lot of 46 concepts. Rob Ryan said the University of Missouri seemed to run the 46 the entire season.

Rob Ryan was on Belichick’s New England staff in the early 2000s and fondly recalls the 2001 Patriots winning that first Super Bowl of their dynasty. Ryan says the 46 turned around that game, won 20-17 over the Rams.

“We called it ‘turkey,’” Rob Ryan said. “Ty Law’s intercepti­on was off the 46. Turned the outside linebacker loose, so (Kurt) Warner threw it right to Ty Law for the intercepti­on, to get us going.”

Buddy Ryan’s defense got a lot of teams going. He was a major figure in football history. Now he’s going into the Oklahoma Sports Hall of Fame, and his boys are proud.

Berry Tramel: Berry can be reached at 405-760-8080 or at btramel@oklahoman.com. He can be heard Monday through Friday from 4:40-5:20 p.m. on The Sports Animal radio network, including FM-98.1. Support his work and that of other Oklahoman journalist­s by purchasing a digital subscripti­on today.

 ?? Rob Ryan ?? “Ryans have to have a little cocky side to them. We’re Okies, but we do brag a little.”
Buddy Ryan
Rob Ryan “Ryans have to have a little cocky side to them. We’re Okies, but we do brag a little.” Buddy Ryan
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 ??  ?? Rob Ryan, left, poses for photograph­s with his father Buddy Ryan, center, and brother Rex Ryan, right, before a Saints-Jets game. BILL KOSTROUN/AP
Rob Ryan, left, poses for photograph­s with his father Buddy Ryan, center, and brother Rex Ryan, right, before a Saints-Jets game. BILL KOSTROUN/AP

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