Ravens' Ray Lewis is a consummate pro football player

The first thing that jumped out when I put in tape of the Baltimore Ravens' defense was the passion and energy and intensity with which Ray Lewis played. I could literally feel it through the video screen. It was palpable and tangible.

Before we go any further, let's get the abridged analysis out of the way. The bottom line: Lewis had a great season in 2008, and I don't use that word lightly. At age 33, in his 13th NFL season, Lewis did not lose a step. Physically, he was very close to the same player he had been in his earlier seasons, when he was universally regarded as the best defensive player in the league.

Emotionally, he remained the heart and soul of the Ravens defense, the glue that kept everything together. He performed with a young man's enthusiasm and fervor, a veteran's knowledge and wisdom, and that once-in-a-generation hunger and yearning.

We've all recognized over the years that Lewis' seeming obsession with the brutal essence of football made him different, a singular entity who performed with a kind of disciplined fury that, in an inexplicable way, was infectious and exhilarating. He had an uncommon capacity to both be a part of, yet separate from everything going on around him. Play after play, he executed his responsibilities with unrelenting determination and focus.

That unique combination of rage and intellect was again apparent in 2008. Game preparation shows up on film. We like to use the word "instincts" to describe a player's aptitude to always be in the right place at the right time. Lewis has rare instincts, yet they derive from countless hours of film study. He understands offensive formations and tendencies so thoroughly that his reactions are always primal, never measured.

It was evident watching the Ravens this past season that no concessions were made to Lewis, no weaknesses camouflaged. And that is the best barometer by which to judge his overall performance. A defense is only as strong as its weakest link. That player must be somehow concealed within the overall defensive scheme so that the opposing offense does not easily exploit him. The coaching staff did not have to compromise, or scale back to compensate for any deterioration in Lewis' game. The reason was there on film: Lewis had not regressed at all.

The Ravens defense this past season was a talented assortment of variable chess pieces and interchangeable parts. They incorporated elements of both the 4-3 and 3-4, and their blitz packages were diverse and effective. They often rushed just 4, yet two of those 4 were a linebacker and a defensive back. More times than I can remember, a rushing defender would get in clean, not accounted for by the pass protection. It was a simple concept executed brilliantly: Pressure the quarterback without sacrificing bodies in coverage.

Players like Terrell Suggs, Bart Scott, Haloti Ngata, Jarret Johnson and Jim Leonhard aligned in many different positions, and were asked to perform varying responsibilities. The defense had many components, and even more moving parts.

Lewis was the one constant: He stayed in the middle, directing traffic and maintaining the unit's core strength, regardless of the personnel and the scheme.

The Ravens played predominantly a "2 gap" concept with their defensive line. In that approach, the down linemen essentially engage the offensive linemen in front of them, preventing them from working up to the linebackers. Lewis thrived in that system. It allowed him the freedom to use his incredible instincts to run to the football.

He played inside out, continuing to display the ability to run laterally with burst and speed. There was no decline in his sideline-to-sideline range, and he still looked like a kamikaze when he fixed on his target and exploded into the tackle. He remained more than capable of delivering powerful, jarring hits.

Lewis was again an outstanding run defender. He took on blocks, was consistently physical at the point of attack. He could really fill a gap and be a downhill thumper. You don't see that as often in the NFL as you used to years ago, and Lewis excelled at it.

That's the beauty of Lewis. He plays with a toughness that knows no bounds other than the unwritten rules of combat that define one's respect for the game.

What really stood out on film was Lewis' understanding of the Ravens' myriad blitz packages, and the coverages that accompanied the various pressures. The Ravens were predominantly a zone-coverage defense, much more so than a man-to-man team. In any zone concept, particularly one played behind a blitz, there are holes that can be exploited if the quarterback can deliver the ball quickly and decisively. Lewis was outstanding at knowing where those voids in the coverage were, and immediately taking them away with his initial movement at the snap of the ball.

That kind of awareness often goes unnoticed if the quarterback throws an incompletion, or if he is forced to hold on to the ball and gets sacked. But that really speaks to the essence of Lewis as a player and a teammate. The game is about togetherness, brotherhood and accountability. You play for the man beside you. You do your job the best possible way it can be done, no exceptions, no excuses. It's a simple world of black and white, with no grey areas.

In 2008, Lewis continued to prosper in that setting. There was nothing on film that would lead me to believe he cannot do it again in 2009.
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.

(sportingnews.com)