Jeff Garcia again has emerged as the leader. I find Garcia to be a tough watch. He plays as if he has just consumed 10 cups of Starbucks coffee, with an extra shot of espresso in each cup. He seems to never stop moving, and his frenetic pace at times reflects minimal poise or composure.

When I sit in my office at NFL Films, with clicker in hand, and continually re-run the coaching tape of the Bucs' offense, I get jumpy. Garcia has that effect on me. There's a frenzied, helter-skelter feel to his play. He's like a hyperactive kid who just can't stay still.

Often, there is no logic to his movement. It's as if he is playing his own game, separate from the other 10 players on offense.

Garcia, 38, is not a consistent five- and seven-step, plant-and-throw passer. There isn't much timing and rhythm to his game. Because of the chaotic nature of his play, Garcia sometimes does not deliver the ball to open receivers on the intermediate and deeper levels.

Bucs coach Jon Gruden, one of the best play-callers in the business, will dial up the correct route combination against an anticipated coverage, with the primary receiver running free, and Garcia doesn't pull the trigger.

That has drawn the ire of Gruden over the last couple of years, the reason he never committed unconditionally to Garcia.

I examine the Bucs' pass plays over and over, trying to ascertain why Garcia breaks down in the pocket. It always strikes me as random and haphazard. He's a play extender even when plays do not need to be extended. He buys time when time doesn't need to be bought.

The result of his "creativity" often is a vicious hit he didn't need to take, which could have avoided with a more disciplined approach. No one can question his toughness or courage. Regardless of the punishment he absorbs, Garcia always gets up ready and willing to fight again.

When popping in the tape of last week's victory over the Vikings, I expected to see a typical Garcia performance -- frantic, harried, yet efficient and resourceful in a madcap sort of way. Instead, it was one of his best games in quite some time. He threw with timing and rhythm, hitting his back foot and delivering the ball to the correct receiver at the correct time, with accuracy.

There was no better single pass made last week, in any NFL game, than Garcia's 31-yard seam strike to tight end Jerramy Stevens on second-and-25 in the fourth quarter. It was a "stick" throw into a tight window, the kind of throw Garcia rarely even attempts, much less completes. It was beautiful.

After years of studying Garcia, play after play and game after game, I have come to a conclusion I finally feel comfortable with. The more I watch him, the more I believe he moves so often and so dramatically because he cannot see over the big bodies in front of him. He is generously listed at 6-1, 205.

His short stature is why you don't see him slide within the pocket -- a step here, two steps there. That doesn't help him gain a clear sight line. He must leave the pocket entirely so he can see his receivers downfield.

What has always stood out about Garcia are his exceptional instincts and field vision, especially when he's on the run. His movement allows him a way to throw the ball. And at times, that makes him difficult to defend since it can disrupt the disciplines of pass coverage schemes.

Think about the 2008 Bucs offense. It doesn't feature impact playmakers. There is not a wide receiver who consistently can win man-to-man isolation routes, and that includes Antonio Bryant.

Gruden does an outstanding job with personnel packages, formations, play-calling and route combinations. It's all part of the plan to minimize his players' shortcomings and maximize the drive-sustaining efficiency of the offense.

Gruden's mantra can be summed up this way: Create the illusion we are complex and sophisticated with constant shifting and motion and formations when, in fact, we are very basic. No one does this better than Gruden.

The bottom line: Garcia's ability to make plays outside the framework of the offense is critical. His improvisational movement and aptitude for breaking down defenses provides the Bucs with their only real big-play capability.

It's a good match of quarterback and personnel.

I can live with the missed opportunities resulting from Garcia's restless and energetic play and accept that he understands his strengths and limitations. Next week, when I plug in the Bucs-Lions tape, I will be sure to have a soothing and relaxing cup of herbal tea by my side.

Greg Cosell of NFL Films analyzes coaching tape and is executive producer of State Farm NFL Matchup. He is a frequent contributor to Sporting News.

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Since their Super Bowl season of 2004, the Philadelphia Eagles have won 28 games, and lost 29. Some of that mediocrity can be attributed to the 15 games Donovan McNabb has missed in that three-and-a-half year stretch. But to focus on that is to miss the big picture.

The Eagles' philosophy under the leadership of Andy Reid has been clearly articulated from the moment Reid was named head coach in January 1999. The model can be summarized this way: Everything begins with the pass. On offense, the foundation is a fully dimensional passing game that features multiplicity of personnel and formations. The mantra is for the quarterback to "keep firing."

Defensively, the approach mirrors that of the offense. Jim Johnson, who has been the defensive coordinator through all of Reid's tenure, shares the head coach's belief in the fundamental importance of the passing game. His defense is structured, through personnel and tactics, to rush the quarterback, and create sacks and turnovers with relentless pressure.

Essentially, the Eagles are one-dimensional in their belief system on both sides of the ball. The pass is primary, the run secondary.

Think about that for a minute, especially as it pertains to the offense. The Eagles choose to be one-dimensional. They do not even pay lip service to the idea of a balanced offensive approach that integrates both pass and run.

What do defensive coordinators always strive to do?: Take away one facet of the opponent's offense. The Eagles do that for you. They make it easier for the defense to match up schematically. Sure, Brian Westbrook has shown in a given game the ability to make a dynamic impact as a runner, but there's no sustainability or commitment to his role as a week-to-week feature back.

Questions about his durability continue to be an issue, and backup Correll Buckhalter, a solid downhill grinder, is utilized sparingly.

The running game is not like a water faucet. It cannot be turned on as needed. In many ways, it demands greater timing, cohesion and coordination than the passing game, particularly when it comes to the synchronization and non-verbal communication required by the offensive line.

An offense predicated on the pass necessitates a quarterback with a particular skill set. While many attributes are needed, one stands out above all. That's accuracy. The reason accuracy is the most critical quality is clearly delineated: you are using the passing game as the means to sustain offense, and move the chains. Therefore, efficiency, and volume of completions becomes the defining characteristic.

Donovan McNabb has been a very good NFL quarterback for many years, but he has never been a naturally accurate passer. This year, more than in any previous season, that lack of consistent accuracy has derailed the Eagles' offense. Too many easy throws missed, too many drives prematurely ended, even though receivers were open.

Reid has asked McNabb to do too much. Donovan is streaky and spectacular, not consistent and dependable. And steady and constant must be the central tenet of any pass-first offense. Quite simply, the combination of Reid's offensive philosophy and McNabb's one elemental flaw inherently create inconsistency. The two do not mesh.

Defensively, the Eagles' belief system has also been challenged in 2008, perhaps more so than ever. Division rivals New York and Washington have powered up this season, featuring offenses whose foundation is a physical, persistent, unyielding running game that remains viable and uncompromising for four quarters.

Philadelphia's defense is not constructed to handle that kind of strength. It's a scheme and method defense, a constantly shifting collection of moving parts designed to mentally break down pass protections, and confuse and confound even the most experienced of NFL quarterbacks.

Just like Reid and the offense, Johnson and the defense don't ascribe central importance to the running game. Their defensive tackle rotation of Broderick Bunkley, Mike Patterson and rookie Trevor Laws is testimony to that. They are undersized. They do not consistently hold the point of attack in the run game. Bunkley was expected to be that player when he was drafted with the 14th pick in the 2006 NFL draft. Yet he does not play as stout as his muscular build suggests. Too often, his leg drive stops when engaged with an offensive lineman.

In the home loss to Washington in early October, the Redskins ran 75 offensive plays, and controlled the ball for almost 35 minutes. They rushed 44 times for 203 yards. Most tellingly, they took possession with 7:12 remaining in the fourth quarter, leading by six, and ran out the clock. The Eagles' defense could not get them off the field.

Last Sunday night, the Giants ran 45 times for 219 yards. They ran 77 plays, and their time of possession was 39 minutes.

This was not surprising. You can always speak about front-seven penetration, gap responsibility and setting the edge, but the bottom line is the core principles of the Eagles' defensive philosophy preclude the kind of physical, sturdy play consistently demanded against power running teams.

And in 2008, there are more of those teams. The league has gone back to the future, with a renewed emphasis on the running game.

As we stand now just beyond the midpoint of the 2008 season, the Eagles of the last three and a half years are a .500 team. As Bill Parcells is known to declare, you are what your record says you are. They may still dogmatically believe in their model, but experience and results have proved otherwise.

Greg Cosell of NFL Films analyzes coaching tape and is executive producer of State Farm NFL Matchup. He is a frequent contributor to Sporting News.

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The Colts' profile has been the same throughout the Peyton Manning era: score touchdowns early and often, get a big lead, force the opponent to have to play from behind, unleash their quick and relentless pass rushers on the opposing quarterback.

Think about this: in 2007, the Colts scored 28 first-half touchdowns. This year, through eight games, they have scored only nine first-half touchdowns. That's less than one-third the output. The winning formula has been short-circuited.

One more stat to drive home the point: last season, the Colts led the NFL converting third downs into first downs, with a percentage of almost 50. That's efficiency of the highest order. This year, that number is down to 43 percent. They are not sustaining offense at the same level we are accustomed to seeing.

Prior to this season, the running game had been as critical to the offensive success of the Colts as Manning's passing game. No team was more diverse in terms of run game variation. While the stretch play had always been viewed as the staple of the ground game, it was really just one of many concepts that were utilized.

And the Colts offensive linemen were an athletic group with the ability to execute those multiple run-blocking schemes. Just as important, they showed the savvy to recognize defensive fronts and make instantaneous adjustments before the snap. They used angles and leverage as well as any unit in the league.

Of course, the impact of Manning could not be minimized. The run game works off a "check with me" model that maximizes the opportunity for a positive run each time. Every defensive front has a strength and weakness depending on the alignment of linemen and linebackers (and a safety if it's an eight-man front). Manning reads this at the line and "checks" the run to the area of the defense that is weakest from a numbers standpoint. The ability to do this consistently may very well be Manning's most impressive attribute.

The approach almost all defenses have taken in recent years has started with two deep safeties. They didn't want to allow the big play in the passing game -- the long throws on the outside to Marvin Harrison and Reggie Wayne.

The conventional wisdom went like this: by preventing the quick strike, Manning and the offense had to run more plays, which theoretically increased the chance of an execution breakdown or a mistake, such as a penalty.

The corollary to this defensive philosophy was the offensive belief that you run the ball, use up clock, shorten the game and keep Manning on the sideline. It was a nice hypothetical mock-up. The reality was that it rarely worked.

The predictable fronts and coverages that defenses played against Manning allowed him to run more plays and continually extend drives. He was the one eating up clock with first down after first down. And those lengthy, time-consuming drives, more often than not, ended with touchdowns.

So teams, in their fervent desire to limit explosive pass plays, actually shortened the game for themselves because of the Colts' sustaining efficiency. They reduced their own offensive opportunities.

That was borne out by the fact that last season the Colts had the fewest offensive possessions in the NFL, about 10 per game. Yet they scored touchdowns on 31 percent of those drives, a remarkably high number.

Here's the difference in 2008: again, 10 possessions per game, yet they have crossed the goal line on only 20 percent of those drives. That's a significant decline.

The problem began with the offensive line. Injuries forced the Colts to start two rookies for much of the season, and second-round pick Mike Pollak remains the starter at right guard. The youth and inexperience on the offensive line has reduced Manning's "check with me" inventory at the line of scrimmage, limiting the Colts' ability to attack and break down defensive fronts with their run game.

But it's more than that. The Colts offensive line right now is slow and not very athletic. They lack quickness as a unit. And finally, they are leaners and pushers, not executing with much striking force or physicality.

Indianapolis is averaging 70 rushing yards per game, and 3.3 yards per rush. Both numbers rank last in the NFL.

In addition, Manning's injured knee has all but removed the stretch run element from the game plan. That not only impacts the multiplicity of the running game, but it also restricts the vertical explosiveness of the pass game. How many times have we seen the stretch run action with Manning dropping back into a clean pocket and then delivering a downfield strike to Harrison or Wayne? That has not happened in 2008.

The reality is that Harrison has lost his once elite quickness and burst. He cannot win consistently on the outside running isolation routes against man coverage. And he can no longer run by safeties to the post, another signature feature of Indianapolis' offense for so many years.

The result is an offense that struggles to both sustain drives, and generate big plays in the passing game. The Colts score fewer points, which then means their defense is no longer playing with the lead at their back.

The opposing offense can remain two-dimensional, staying balanced with the run game. The Colts undersized defensive line must belly up and defend the run for four quarters. They are not built to do that with defensive tackles that weigh less than 270 pounds. Ends Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis cannot simply line up and rush the quarterback.

The Colts' winning profile has been altered. Eight games remain. History strongly suggests that it's very difficult to re-invent yourself in the middle of an NFL season. It will be a struggle for Indianapolis to make the playoffs.

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One that has really stood out is a much greater emphasis leaguewide on the running game. For many years, the conventional wisdom has been that the NFL is a passing league, and that all personnel decisions and week-to-week game planning had to reflect and confirm that reality.

The oft-repeated mantra was that there were four premium positions in the NFL: quarterback, left tackle, pass rusher (whether it be a defensive end or a linebacker) and cornerback. All four positions reflected the prime importance of the passing game.

This season, the pendulum has swung. Look at some of the division leaders: the Giants, Panthers, Titans, Bills and Steelers. And let's include the 6-2 Redskins as well. What these teams have in common is a commitment to running the ball behind cohesive lines that stress continuity and consistency more than individual brilliance.

A good barometer by which to judge the trend is play selection on first and 10. Each one of these teams is skewed heavily toward running. Take the Steelers, for instance. Even with Willie Parker missing much of the season, Pittsburgh has run the ball 99 times and called 73 passes on first and 10.

That has been the rule much more than the exception in 2008. In their eight games, the Redskins have called more runs than passes. I can't remember the last time that happened for an entire season, but the point is unmistakable, and my film study illustrates it: The running game is back, and it's clearly the foundation of many successful offenses.

A second trend that I've discerned could well be the reason for this renewed focus on running the ball. Each week, as I watch tape, I see more blitzing, more man-to-man coverage, more defenses challenging offenses from the front end to the back end.

The days of the soft zone concepts of "Tampa 2" are quickly slipping away. That scheme demands quick pressure from four down linemen. That's tough to accomplish consistently because there aren't enough good pass rushers in the league. So more and more, I see the many voids in that coverage scheme exposed.

Now, when it comes to rushing the quarterback, the key concept is "breaking down the protection." Defensive coordinators no longer rely on winning individual matchups. Rather, they scheme to create confusion, hesitation and ultimately breakdowns in protection assignments.

And they often do this with no more than five rushers -- combinations of defensive linemen, linebackers and defensive backs -- so they don't sacrifice numbers in coverage. Dick LeBeau is a master at this for Pittsburgh. So is Rex Ryan with Baltimore.

What has really jumped off the film this season is the preponderance of man coverage on the outside. That is linked to the increase in pressure. The objective is to force quarterbacks to make tight, accurate throws under duress. That's hard to do.

This leads me to more of an observation than a trend. Quarterback play in the NFL is very erratic. There's very little week-to-week consistency. I don't see the timing and anticipation that are required against pressure defenses and fast-reacting corners and safeties. I don't see the kind of pocket mobility that is absolutely essential at the NFL level, that ability to avoid the rush, reset with balance and deliver the ball. And perhaps most important, I don't see the necessary accuracy.

Drew Brees has certainly played at a high level this season, but he is asked to do too much. The Saints are a one-dimensional passing team, and the burden of their offense falls solely on his shoulders. That's difficult, for any quarterback.

No quarterback has played more efficiently than Jason Campbell. One critical reason for that is the Redskins' offense embraces equal parts run and pass. It is much easier to dictate to a defense when your offense is balanced.

Every offensive coordinator wants explosive downfield plays in the passing game. The question is: How do you best produce them? You have a better chance of doing so in normal down and distance situations (such as first and 10, second and 5, etc.) than in long-yardage, must-pass situations.

The corollary point is that when you align with base offensive personnel -- such as two backs, one tight end and two wide receivers -- the defense will almost always match up with its base personnel. And because defenses are much more predictable with fronts and coverages from their base personnel package, offenses are less likely to see the intricate pressure schemes that are so difficult to recognize and defeat.

With Campbell, it goes beyond that. He has been very precise with his mechanics, showing excellent footwork and balance, and has become much more compact with his delivery. Simply put, I see a quarterback who gets the ball out of his hand quickly to the right receiver at the right time with accuracy. That's the Cliffs Notes version of elite quarterbacking in the NFL.

In a game defined by change and adjustment, Campbell's continued development is just one of many story lines I will be monitoring closely in the final two months of the season.

Greg Cosell of NFL Films analyzes coaching tape and is executive producer of State Farm NFL Matchup. He is a frequent contributor to Sporting News.

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While it can be argued that no specific blueprint exists that identifies what skills and traits a quarterback should possess, it is clearly evident that certain attributes are required, and even compulsory.

I have been evaluating NFL coaching tape for almost 20 years, and the overall size, speed, talent and schematic advances on the defensive side of the ball have all dictated significant changes in the demands of the quarterback position.

It's a tenuous balancing act between the mental and the physical, and there's no doubting the incalculable cerebral burden. But at the end of the day, no matter how quickly a quarterback can process what he sees, it comes down to how well, and how accurately he throws the football from the pocket.

This brings me to the Bills' Trent Edwards. Edwards was taken in the third round of the 2007 NFL draft. He was the sixth quarterback taken that year, after second-round picks Kevin Kolb, John Beck and Drew Stanton.

I looked back at my notes when I evaluated him as a senior at Stanford. So the following observations all resulted from film study in March and April of 2007, before he was drafted.

What I viewed then was a prototype NFL quarterback with size, composure and accuracy. He had a compact release, and he snapped off short and intermediate throws with some velocity.

At Stanford, a lower echelon Pac-10 team that featured a very poor offensive line, Edwards was under frequent duress. What really jumped out was how poised he was in the face of that pressure, how strong and tall he stood in the pocket with bodies constantly around him, and how he did not break down mechanically to throw the football.

In addition, Edwards clearly understood coverages, and he had a refined sense of progression reading for a college quarterback. He demonstrated awareness and field vision.

Finally, I saw NFL throws, and they showed up with regularity in every game. They included seam throws, intermediate digs in the 15-22 yard area, fade balls, crossing routes, far hash/deep comeback throws -- a litmus test throw for NFL quarterbacks. They were all there on Stanford's tape.

Seeing NFL throws is always critical when transitioning college quarterbacks to the next level. You don't have to project and hope -- as you do with spread option quarterbacks like Vince Young, or shotgun passing quarterbacks like Kolb and Beck. With those players, the evidence is not on film, since you do not see NFL route combinations, progression reads or the kinds of throws needed on Sundays.

With Edwards, I knew from watching tape that he had the necessary skill set to play quarterback at a consistent level in the NFL. I didn't have to make assumptions, or leaps of faith.

What I've really found interesting this season, Edwards' first as the Bills' full-time starter, has been his growth and progress through the first six games. In the opening week win against the Seahawks, I thought his arm strength was just above average, nothing more. I felt he could be successful, but that it would have to be as a quick decision maker who got the ball out quickly to the right receiver at the right time, with accuracy.

Nothing wrong with that, but it led me to believe he would need the help of passing game concepts that understood his strengths, but also recognized and accounted for his limitations. In short, he was a "system" quarterback who required the right system -- a strong run game, solid pass protection, quick pass drops that got the ball out of his hands quickly, schemed route combinations that broke down anticipated coverages.

The week 3 win against the Raiders compelled me to envision Edwards as more than a "system" quarterback.

Against Oakland, Edwards orchestrated a furious fourth-quarter comeback, producing two touchdowns and setting up the game-winning field goal. It was how he did it that was special. He was firm in the pocket, oblivious to pressure. In fact, his touchdown pass to Roscoe Parrish was as big time as it gets: he took a vicious hit as he delivered the ball, but still threw it with touch and accuracy.

Edwards showed the willingness to make stick throws into small windows. He had the courage to make the kinds of tight downfield throws that are absolutely necessary when you're behind, and check downs won't get it done.

He demonstrated the ability to avoid pressure, reset and throw. That's what mobility for a quarterback in the NFL really is, and it must be mastered to reach elite status at the position.

It was a great final period by Edwards, a performance of bravado and boldness usually associated with daring gunslingers like Brett Favre in his prime.

One final point about Edwards this season -- he has been off the charts throwing the ball on first and 10. He is 41-for-50, which is 82 percent. Keep in mind that first down is the best down to throw. The reason -- you tend to get predictable defensive fronts and predictable coverages. That's not the case in long yardage, must-pass situations in which defenses clearly have the tactical advantage with their blitz packages and hybrid coverage schemes.

There is no question the Bills are an improved team in many areas in 2008, but they will compete for a division title and more for one reason -- Trent Edwards.

Greg Cosell of NFL Films analyzes coaching tape and is executive producer of State Farm NFL Matchup. He is a frequent contributor to Sporting News.

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