Bob Cook

Given the Indianapolis Colts’ best strategy for slowing down New England’s offense on Sunday, team president Bill Polian might have a tinge of regret over complaining so loudly about the Patriots manhandling his receivers in the 2003 AFC Championship.

The Patriots’ receivers have to be mugged so hard, after every play they will instinctively reach into their back pockets and bemoan their missing wallets. Yes, hard enough to confuse New England so much that its players believe their pants have back pockets, and that they would have any reason to put their wallets in them.

A big part of the Patriots’ success is their opponents’ failure to disrupt their exquisite timing, and I’m not talking about those high-end watches Tom Brady pitches. If defenses crowd the line of scrimmage, then the offensive line is giving Brady enough time to let a big play develop, or let Brady read through his progressions, then read through them again and go over the juicy parts with a highlighter. If the defense plays back to guard against Randy Moss or Donte' Stallworth for a long gainer, Brady quickly zips the ball to slot receiver Wes Welker or over the middle to whomever is lining up at running back. Rarely do you see Brady having to make a throw off-balance.

Being a zone-defense team with a strong upfield rush, the Colts are more vulnerable to the latter. But the scheme matters less than Indianapolis figuring out a way to put some pressure on Brady and his receivers so they’re not playing pitch-and-catch like a father and his sons in the front yard.

So that’s where mugging receivers comes in. Thanks to Polian’s railing about how his receivers were beaten up in that championship game loss at New England, referees have been tighter in calling penalties for such activity. But perhaps the Colts need to go with Belichick’s philosophy in that game, which was that the referees can’t call them all. The way Colts defenders have smacked teams in the mouth lately — knocking out Jacksonville’s David Garrard and Carolina’s Vinny Testaverde, the last two quarterbacks they’ve faced — Indianapolis has acquired enough of a reputation as hard hitters to not get a flag for just breathing on an offensive player.

When the Patriots receivers come off the line, at a minimum they need to be bumped and crowded for those first five yards. They need to be hit hard enough for the vibrations to stoke fears the Midwest’s long-dormant New Madrid Fault is ready to blow. Welker can’t run that quick slant over the middle without fear that, say, middle linebacker Gary Brackett or safety Bob Sanders is going to move up and crown him.

New England’s intimidators won’t be completely intimidated, but having them think a little bit about what will happen to them will help throw off the Patriots’ timing. That might allow the Colts, tied with New England at plus-11 for the NFL’s best turnover margin, a chance to get the key turnover. Brady, who fumbled twice in last year’s AFC championship game loss at Indianapolis, has lost three fumbles this year, including one against Washington last week in which the ball was knocked away from him on his blind side. That’s the sort of play Indianapolis defensive ends Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis dedicate themselves to making.

This strategy works best if the Colts bait Brady into throwing long. A long score or two — as long as it’s only a long score or two — might be a small price to pay to keep Brady from chipping away underneath the Indianapolis zone, thus keeping Peyton Manning off the field.