The only difference between the Detroit Lions’ offensive line and a human sacrifice is the altar. Matthew
Stafford was served up all day Sunday, a slab of meat to a pack of hungry dogs. Every snap left you cringing. It was like a horror film where you wanted to yell, “Look out!” But at least in a horror film, they kill you and move on. For Stafford, it was “Groundhog Day;” over and over, he was slammed into a hole.
Seven sacks. Thirteen hits. There was no escape. The Vikings came down the middle; they pinned in from the sides. On one play, Stafford hadn’t even turned to face the field when he was dragged down by a linebacker who was considerably faster than any player trying to block him.
“It’s hard to comment on anything without seeing the film,” said Lions tackle Riley Reiff, after the 28-19 stomping.
The film? Hey, Riley. I’ll save you the trouble. You ever see “Inglourious Basterds?” You were the Germans.
Here is what makes this inexcusable: It’s not like the Lions didn’t know the Vikings were going to smother their quarterback. They do it twice a year — year after year. The fact that, after the first quarter, Detroit was helpless to stop it tells you exactly where this 1-6 team is now, where its coaching staff is now, and where its personnel is now.
“That’s what (the Vikings) do,” said Stafford, whose left hand was injured during the barrage. “They’re known for getting after the passer.”
Don’t blame Stafford. He took one for the team, then took another and another and another. Seven sacks? That’s unforgivable. For a team that was starting two first-round draft picks on its line? Seven sacks?
And they need to watch the film?
Fans don’t. They’ve seen this movie already.