Execution Hampering Penn State, but so is Emotion

Parker Washington had just caught his second touchdown pass of the game and his third of his three-game career, and yet, as he stood waiting for the two-point conversion play to come in, had his hands on his hips. A teammate gave him a half-hearted congratulatory pat, and the promising freshman receiver just stared straight ahead, continuing to wait.

There were still 16 points that separated Penn State and Maryland and 11 seconds left in the game. Washington knew, as did his teammates, and the Terrapins, and anyone who subjected themselves to as incredulous and embarrassing a football game the Nittany Lions had played in roughly two decades, that the game had been over for quite some time.

Maryland brought the energy you might expect from a team that had been defeated 59-0 by Penn State the year before … and really only needed it for a half. After Chance Campbell’s scoop-and-score made it 35-7 with 12:55 to play in the third quarter, the Terps, um, turtled up, throwing just seven more passes in 22 plays the rest of the way, content to kill the clock and showing no signs of being threatened by Penn State’s offense. It was, somehow, faintly reminiscent of Iowa coach Kirk Ferentz purposely taking a safety in the infamous 6-4 defeat of an inept Penn State offense in 2004, with the difference being that the Hawkeyes, who went on to win the conference title that year, had a defense with seven future NFL draft picks. Maryland’s defense gave up 988 yards and 87 points in its first two games.

How did this one get away from Penn State so quickly and how did it stay there so certainly? As with both of the Nittany Lions’ first two losses, the answers to that question were numerous. But a new one among them this week was body language.

At any point in the game, did you see anyone on the field or the sideline wearing blue show any sort of anger, or frustration, or fire? Maybe they did, and the Big Ten Network cameras, which were having quite the time following the football on Saturday, simply didn’t pick it up. There obviously weren’t many opportunities to show exuberance, but you wanted to see something other than the resignation and listlessness that poured out of every player, and it never came. 

For the third straight week, there was little cohesion. For the third straight week, there were glaring errors that led to big plays for the opponent and smaller mistakes that resulted in missed opportunities or stalled drives or allowed Maryland drives to continue. And yet, even after the few good plays the Nittany Lions made, it was hard to see any confidence, that elusive but vital accessory that any winning team possesses.

Once again, it started with the quarterback. Sean Clifford looked like a man who had just begun finals week and couldn’t remember which courses he had signed up for, let alone what might be on any of the exams. His passes sailed high and wide or out-of-bounds or into the hands of Maryland defenders and, even on most of his completions, the ball never quite seemed to come out at the right time. His offensive line did him no favors in pass protection or pre-snap, at one point committing two false start penalties IN A ROW, and his receivers struggled to get separation, perhaps because the Terrapins knew that Penn State, whose running backs mustered 75 yards on 19 carries yards Saturday and whose entire offense was once again helpless in short-yardage situations, posed no serious threat to run the ball.

It could be just that simple. Good quarterbacks instill not just the offense but the entire team, including the coaching staff, with confidence; elite quarterbacks give it the belief that no situation is too dire, no challenge insurmountable. Quarterbacks struggling the way 14 is right now put more pressure on the rest of the offense, the defense, and the coaches, and suddenly, or gradually, everyone is pressing.

It wasn’t Clifford, though, who allowed Maryland receiver Rakim Jarrett to catch a pair of short slants and turn them upfield for touchdowns of 42 and 62 yards. It wasn’t Clifford who surrendered 246 first-half passing yards to his freshman counterpart, Taulia Tagovailoa. It wasn’t Clifford who continued to make baffling play calls in third- or fourth-down situations that cost his team almost certain points. And it wasn’t Clifford who refused to pull Clifford in favor of a fresh quarterback, even if only for a series.

No, the Nittany Lions’ woes are too much to pin completely on one player, even one who looks as lost as Clifford, and the fact that everyone seems to know it might have been the reason they all had that going-through-the-motions look about them on Saturday. The asterisky loss to an Indiana team that continues to prove its mettle was one thing; getting dumped by two scores to one of the nation’s three best teams a week later was another. This one, though, was the least competitive game of the season, of James Franklin’s seven-year tenure and, all due respect to Tagovailoa, Mike Locksley and an improving Maryland team, had far less to do with the opponent than with the dysfunction on what has become one of college football’s most stunning train wrecks. For the first two weeks, Penn State looked like a team still trying to find itself but one that might have a few answers by the end of the season. 

With every snap on Saturday, those answers seemed even further away.