Jake Plummer drops back, looks, steps up. The pocket moves past him. Receivers run deep and into the corners. The middle of the field beckons. He bursts up the gut, nothing but 50 yards of grass between him and the end zone.
His mates on offense gloat. They yelp at the Broncos' defense. "Who's got the quarterback?" they tease.
Moments later, near the goal line, Plummer rolls right and looks to pass. Can't find anyone. He keeps moving. Still no one. He concedes and steps out of bounds.
"Why didn't you throw it away?" asks Broncos offensive coordinator Gary Kubiak.
"I know, I will," replies Plummer.
"No, you have to do it now--here" Kuhiak replies. It is only a minicamp, but there you have it in a 10-minute span--a lake Plummer sampler platter.
What tastes good is the mobility, the instincts, the ability to turn nothing into something big. The Broncos want to gorge themselves with this portion of Plummer, feasting on goodies that have been AWOL from their playbook since John Elway transformed into an Arena League owner.
What tastes bad is the poor decision-making. Plummer doesn't relish settling for nothing when something good always beckons. And that's why a long line of NFL skeptics think coach Mike Shanahan's gutsy grand experiment, this drive to change Plummer from an interceptions specialist into a sterling quarter-back efficient enough to return the Broncos to the Super Bowl, ultimately will leave Shanahan and the team with a Tums tummy.
Don't rush to offer Shanahan stomach relief. Think Steve Young. When he moved from the Bucs to the 49ers with a resume as unsettling as Plummer's, do you believe San Francisco fans were contemplating future championships? Young needed the 49ers and the West Coast system to flourish. Plummer needs Shanahan, Young's former mentor and accomplished tutor of quarterbacks, and his version of the West Coast. Together, the two men ultimately will feast on playoffs.
Plummer tidbit: He hates snakes. Can't stand them. Would rather collide facemask-to-facemask with Warren Sapp. But call him "Snake"? That's OK.
There isn't much riding on Plummer's presence as a Bronco other than:
* His best and maybe final chance to prove he isn't a figment of Bill Walsh's imagination, that he really can be a consistent pro quarterback, even if he isn't a Joe Montana clone.
* Denver's hopes of entering the playoffs, which the Broncos have missed the last two seasons and made just once in four years with Brian Griese as the primary quarterback.
* Maybe the hang-term sanity, if not the job security, of Shanahan, who struck out with Griese and now has anointed Plummer the necessary link in the Broncos' struggle to win more titles.
No one with the Broncos, including owner Pat Bowlen, is pressuring Shanahan. But he is smart enough to know the expectations of the franchise include an occasional Super Bowl jaunt. Anything less is viewed as a flop. The 2002 Broncos, who finished 9-7 after a 6-2 start, had the NFL's No. 3 offense and No. 6 defense yet couldn't more out of the regular season--an almost incomprehensible result considering those statistics. As the league's No. 1 underachievers, they tormented their coach.
"This was by far the toughest offseason I have ever had," Shanahan says, "because I know we were a better team than we showed. We lost three games in the last minute. We haven't done that before, so it sticks with you. I was devastated at the end."
That's why Plummer has spent the last two-plus months practically living at the team's practice facility, memorizing the coach's considerable playbook. And that's why Griese is now a Dolphin. Fair or not, the collapse of the Broncos was dumped at his feet. And talk about a complete quarterback makeover. By signing Plummer, who was considered expendable by, of all teams, the bungling Cardinals after six mercurial seasons, Shanahan brought in the anti-Griese.
Griese is an introvert, a bit edgy, standoffish, the guy who sits by himself at the end of the bench, layered like "A Tale of Two Cities" Plummer is wide-eyed and emotional, gung-ho and open, patting guys on their butts, an easy read like "The Great Escape." His teammates didn't dislike Griese; they just had difficulty reading him during difficult times. He would withdraw, put up a barrier. Plummer completes a pass in practice and bounces around like a little kid, which he sort of still is. First day in the Broncos' door, he was shaking hands, learning names. Bowling on Tuesdays? He's there, lousy skills and all.
Plummer plays hurt, hates to come out of games, thirsts for two-minute drills. Griese evolved into a guy who broke down on Sundays yet was ready to go on Mondays, a trait that both rankles and angers coaches. Plummer leads, he communicates, he competes--all the things Griese had stopped doing.
After Elway, Shanahan tried a more conventional quarterback approach, training a traditional dropback passer. And Griese, a third-round pick in 1998, played better than most NFL personnel men predicted, earning a Pro Bowl trip after the 2000 season and putting up acceptable numbers for sure, including a 62.2 percent career passing percentage that kept the Broncos' offense among the league's most productive.
But missing was pizzazz. And without it, playoff visits. Shanahan is convinced his schemes thrive best (see the Elway era) on three elements: running the ball, executing planned passes and, when all else fails, a scramble here, a playground play there. With Griese, the cup was only, two-thirds full--and it always would be.
Plummer, well, he is pizzazz personified. He is a virtuoso at improv, a creator, excitement on can.
Yet ... one NFL head coach, in the market for a quarterback this offseason, studied both Plummer and Griese. He concluded there was no comparison--Griese by a knockout. He didn't make mistakes, his reads were more developed, his arm better, his work in the pocket superior, his consistency apparent. Plummer was all over the place: forcing balls, throwing into defensive strengths, looking unsure. But, says the coach, he wasn't in Denver last season, didn't walk in the locker room, doesn't know the dynamics of team chemistry. And besides, this is Shanahan making the switch; that alone buys time, along with credibility.
"Mike is so damn good, he's almost by himself in this league as a coach, and he has shown he can coach quarterbacks," says Ron Wolf, the former Packers general manager. "But I have never liked Jake Plummer. He can't win--never has. He is not the kind of guy you want with the ball in critical moments. He throws those interceptions. He can escape pressure, but he doesn't make good decisions."
Yet ... escapability is now a big word in Denver. "You don't tie him down; that is why he is here," Kubiak says about Plummer. One-fourth of the Broncos' 46 sacks, the embarrassing total they allowed last season, was blamed on the lack of mobility of Griese and backup Steve Beuerlein. Plummer's agility should make the offensive line look better. Besides, opponents didn't fear Griese; the Snake already has 21 comeback victories on his resume. With Plummer, the Broncos won't lose three games this season in the last minute.
Kubiak, after a 6-yard Plummer completion in practice: "Why didn't you go with your read instead of throwing to the other side?"
Plummer: "Because the other guy was open."
Kubiak: Nothing. Just a smile.
You don't sign a new quarterback to a seven-year, $40 million contract and see the glass full of interceptions and incompletions. "Around here," says Broncos general manager Ted Sundquist, "we look at what a player can do, not at what he can't. Every guy bas negatives. Things like making the wrong read and forcing into coverage, those are things our coaches can correct. We need to calm Jake down and show him other options. Just convince him that all he has to do is drive the car, nice and steady. Last year when we lost, we had no one who could stop the bleeding the next week. Jake is a guy who can do that."
Shanahan understands what is at stake. Before signing Plummer, he studied every pass he had attempted the last two seasons, charted when he made them in games and under what circumstances. He wanted to verify what he thought, that so many of the interceptions came under duress, with the Cardinals trailing and Plummer scratching.
"When I looked at the tape, I saw a guy making plays when there was nothing there" says Shanahan. "He did it scrambling, against the blitz, when guys came in untouched, doing stuff you can't coach. The great ones always have one thing in common: They could make plays when there was nothing there. That gives him a step toward being special."
