A Strong Front

THE GIANTS won last season's Super Bowl and 10 of their first 11 games in 2008 but did not fully move into the radar of public interest until last Saturday morning, and then only because of the news that their best wide receiver, Plaxico Burress, had raised the ante on his regular misadventures by accidentally shooting himself in the right thigh with his own handgun at a Manhattan nightclub. Burress's gunplay initiated a classic tabloid frenzy that appeared to have legs, and made the Giants suddenly and blessedly interesting. ¶ Before that, they had chugged along with dull efficiency. Their marquee player, quarterback Eli Manning, is likably unrevealing, often compared by New York media with Derek Jeter, who possesses the same quality. Their coach, Tom Coughlin, runs a leak-free locker room and controls controversy essentially by refusing to acknowledge its existence. There had been no shortage of more exotic NFL story lines, ranging from Brett Favre to Adam Jones to the hapless Lions to the Titans' winning streak. The Giants could wait.

Now at last came the Burress Affair, just as his team was preparing to play an NFC East road game in Washington. While Burress, who caught the game-winning touchdown in New York's 17--14 Super Bowl win over the Patriots, was not going to play against the Redskins because of a hamstring injury, the swirl of negativity that accompanied his self-inflicted wound rose to the level of that most universal obstacle, the Distraction.

Except, not so much. On a miserable Sunday at FedEx Field, with windblown rain and temperatures that hovered in the low 40s, the Giants took a Redskins team that has been in the playoff mix all season and simply toyed with it. New York went ahead 13--0 early in the second quarter and was never threatened, churning out more than 400 yards against a defense that had been one of the NFL's best, yielding fewer than 280 yards per game. It is tempting to invoke the cliché that the Giants had tightened their bonds in support of Burress and won the game in his honor—"We were missing a fallen comrade," said running back Derrick Ward—but it was not that type of work; it was cold and bloodless, the undressing of a lesser team.

"We've been through the gamut," said center Shaun O'Hara, while stripping off his drenched and muddied uniform afterward. "We went through plenty last year, and look where we finished. There's experience. There's leadership. Call it whatever you want. When it's time to play, this team cranks it up."

This team is 11--1 for the first time in its 83-year history, with seven consecutive wins and a three-game lead over resurgent Dallas in what remains arguably the strongest division in the NFL. Manning passed for 305 yards against the Redskins, and massive tailback Brandon Jacobs pounded out 71 yards on the ground despite a sore knee that clearly has not healed. The same defense that made Tom Brady look human in the Super Bowl 10 months ago sacked Jason Campbell four times and intercepted him once.

And the heart of this unglamorous team beats in a most unglamorous place.

A SNAPSHOT: ON Oct. 4, the day before a home game against Seattle, the Giants' offensive line got together for a private videotape session. The first string—center O'Hara, left guard Rich Seubert, left tackle David Diehl, right guard Chris Snee and right tackle Kareem McKenzie—has started 31 of the last 32 games as a unit. They are typical of the breed: large and lumpy (in a way that belies their considerable strength) but also tough and smart. This is how they prepare as a group. "It's good to watch tape alone, and we all do that," says Seubert, "but you can really get on the same page when you watch together." What they saw on this Saturday was a blitz package the Seahawks had used effectively against New York in 2005 and '06. In the film session they identified the look and created a name for it, so that any one of them could call out along the line if he saw it coming.

(The line is a noisy place. Before the snap, Manning will identify the middle, or Mike, linebacker, and often change the play or blocking scheme. Beginning with O'Hara, the line will then shout out confirmation of any change, or further changes of their own, based on the defense. Grunts and groans follow.)

Whatever the code name—"Defensive linemen are pretty smart," says McKenzie. "If I tell you, I'll have to kill you"—early in the game the Giants came to the line of scrimmage and, almost in unison all five offensive linemen barked the designated word. It happened at least twice more in that game, and on each occasion the Giants adjusted and picked up the blitz, en route to a 44--6 victory. "When you recognize a blitz presnap, and everybody is on the same page," says O'Hara, "that's the best feeling in the world." It is a rare and potent synergy at a place on the field where cohesiveness is essential. And this team has it. "They're a group of guys who work unbelievably well together," says Steelers defensive end Aaron Smith, who got a firsthand look in a 21--14 loss on Oct. 26. "Strength in numbers, you know?"

The rest of the league knows. With no small amount of help from tight end Kevin Boss and 266-pound fullback Madison Hedgecock, both integral to the running game, the Giants' O-line has helped Jacobs (950 yards), Ward (630) and Ahmad Bradshaw (310) lead an NFL-best ground attack that averages more than 160 yards per game. Manning has been sacked 15 times, seventh-best among NFL quarterbacks who've started all 12 games. "They're probably as good as any line in the league," says Baltimore defensive coordinator Rex Ryan, whose typically stout unit gave up 207 yards on the ground in a 30--10 loss on Nov. 16.