He's a machine, a nice machine. It doesn't matter how many defenders an opposing offense throws at him; they stick like velcro. Defenders try a hammering bull-rush or an emasculating spin move, but nothing. Any move is no move at all.
That's why it's no surprise Jake Matthews is regarded as a top 10 selection tonight. He makes it look easy. It's routine for him: kick slide; read the rushers; punch a rusher; anchor; next play.
What more do you want in an offensive tackle?
Longer arms, you might say. Matthews' measured in at an average 33 3/8", but he's not the first to have less than ideal arms. Remember Joe Thomas? 32 1/2". How about Michael Roos? 33 5/8". They might be exceptions, but so is Matthews.
Matthews can anchor against heavy-handed bull-rushers and slide his feet against lithe speed-rushers. Here's an example.
He's on an island against an Auburn outside linebacker. He's in a staggered two-point stance like the pass-rusher is on this crucial second-and-goal play. It's an obvious pass, with all weapons out in this shotgun spread formation.
When the ball is snapped, Matthews kicks back his left foot and pushes it against the near hash, then dances with both feet while leaning forward, awaiting the clash of momentums.
The pass-rusher turns loose straight upfield, threatening a speed-rush around the corner. His shoulders stay square until he's four yards into the backfield, where he turns, shoveling both arms into Matthews' chest.
The clash doesn't affect Matthews, who uses the momentum to his advantage by leaning back, folding his knees and plowing through the gray-green Texas A&M grass. Less than a yard inside the hash where he stood in a two-point stance seconds ago, Matthews leans further back, lowers his pads and anchors.
If you watch him long enough, he'll beautifully bore you. He's not going to demolish a pass-rusher — it's not in his nature. But he's going to get the job done with technique that attracts scouts.
He's going to gently chop his feet like he's on eggshells, then patiently wait for the defender and engage him. Even when he leans back after contact to tighten the rope on a pass-rusher, he does it effortlessly, to the point where it's debatable if his jersey wrinkles. He brings beauty to an ugly position with these skills, the same technical skills that his legendary football family members have used, including father and Hall of Fame center Bruce Matthews.
What makes it so boring, though, is it's the same routine every play.
Here it is again, this time against Alabama in the dying seconds of the first half.
He's in a two-point stance. His hands sit on his right knee as he patiently waits. When the snap comes, he kicks his left leg back and leans forward, slightly bending his knees before raising his arms for hand combat with the defensive end.
At the point of contact, he opens his hips up to the sideline and keeps his average arms extended to the pass-rusher who is trying to circle the corner. His left foot pokes into the grass and his right slides. He continues this motion a couple times before he lowers his rear and leans back again, stifling the edge rush and forcing the pass-rusher to go directly through him. The end tries to drive his left shoulder through him and into the backfield without luck.
Even when he's forced to do more on a given play, his routine differs little. There was an example of this on a big play against Alabama earlier in the game in the first quarter, when quarterback Johnny Manziel threw a big strike down the sideline to wide receiver Mike Evans on a nine-route.
Matthews was again in a two-point stance, with his forearms resting on his upper thighs and his left leg staggered back. Across from him was a defensive end who had a deeper than usual alignment, roughly a yard and half from the line of scrimmage. This signaled some kind of trickery.
When the play began, the yard and half didn't matter. Matthews tapped his left foot and bent his knees early, bracing for contact as he popped the defensive end stunting into the B-gap to his right with his right arm.
Quickly he shifted his hips and slid his feet a yard out, then widened his feet and knocked the defensive tackle completing an end-tackle (ET) stunt near the midfield logo. To finish, he turned his hips out like he was dancing to salsa and cut off the outside rush.
Even when the defense tries to throw him off, he doesn't veer off course. It's why he's a top 10 pick, a possible St. Louis Ram or Atlanta Falcon, where he could play left tackle, right tackle, or any other position. His consistency and awareness in recognizing defensive "games" like the above are why some have considered him for the center position, which requires great football intelligence.
Wherever he does end up playing, he's going to be a gentle machine.
