The West Coast Offense Route Bible

The Concept: Dragon creates a high-low read on the flat defender, and it does so with the kind of ruthless simplicity that makes you wonder why every play isn’t this. The quarterback is reading one guy, ONE, and deciding whether to go high or low based on what that defender does. If you can’t make this read, respectfully, maybe consider soccer.

The Routes: The outside receiver (X) runs a slant (Route 2), angling inside at roughly 45 degrees off the snap. Meanwhile, the slot receiver (Y) runs a flat (Route 1), pushing out toward the sideline at about 5 yards depth.

Why It Works: The flat defender is in a nightmare. If he drops to take away the slant, the flat is wide open for an easy pitch-and-catch with yards of green grass ahead. If he jumps the flat (and linebackers love jumping flats because it makes them feel like they’re doing something) the slant is sitting right behind him with a runway to the secondary.

The beauty of Dragon is the YAC potential. Both routes put receivers in stride heading somewhere useful. The slant receiver is already moving toward the middle of the field at full speed. The flat receiver catches the ball moving laterally with nothing but sideline real estate and (hopefully) one cornerback who didn’t get the memo.

This is one of those concepts where if your quarterback can’t execute it consistently, you have a quarterback problem, not a scheme problem. It’s the “if you can’t cook eggs, you can’t cook” of route combinations.

The Concept: Lion floods the short middle of the field with two quick slants, which is basically the offensive equivalent of walking into a room through two doors at the same time. Defenders can’t cover both. It’s a volume play. Throw bodies at the soft spots in zone coverage and let the quarterback pick the one that’s more open.

The Routes: Both the outside receiver (X) and the slot receiver (Y) run slants (Route 2). That’s it. Two receivers running the same route at slightly different depths and angles. Sounds simple because it is. Sounds easy to stop because it isn’t.

Why It Works: Against zone coverage, Lion gives the quarterback two distinct windows into the short middle. The inside slant typically clears through first, dragging a defender with him and opening space for the outside slant coming in behind. Against man coverage, the two crossing paths create natural traffic, not quite a designed pick, but the kind of congestion that makes man defenders trip over each other like they’re navigating a crowded Costco on a Saturday.

Where Lion really earns its paycheck is against the blitz. When a defense sends extra rushers, they’re vacating coverage real estate. Two slants into vacated zones is free money. The ball is out before the blitz even gets home. Your quarterback takes a three-step drop, identifies which slant has the cleaner window, and delivers. The blitzing linebacker is still two yards from the quarterback when the ball is already in a receiver’s hands at the first-down marker.

If you’re a defensive coordinator and you see Lion coming, your options are basically “hope they drop it” or “disguise your coverage pre-snap and pray.” Neither is great.

The Concept: Stick is the route concept equivalent of a reliable sedan. It’s not flashy. It’s never going to make SportsCenter (probably). But it gets you where you need to go, every single time, and it has been doing so since approximately the invention of the zone defense. This is the go-to against zone coverage for picking up 5-7 yards like clockwork.

The Routes: The slot receiver (Y) runs a flat (Route 1), pushing outside. The tight end (T) runs a quick sit or hitch route (Route 0), settling into an open window at about 5-6 yards. The outside receiver (Z) runs a go route (Route 9), clearing out the deep defender and creating space underneath.

Why It Works: Stick gives the quarterback a triangle read, three options arranged geometrically so that no matter what the underneath defenders do, someone is open. The go route from Z clears the deep third and forces the corner to respect the vertical threat. That opens up the underneath for the tight end’s sit route and the slot’s flat.

The quarterback reads the flat defender (sound familiar? West Coast offense loves torturing flat defenders). If the flat defender widens to cover Y in the flat, the tight end’s sit route is open in the vacated space. If the flat defender stays inside to cover the sit route, Y is standing alone in the flat waving his arms like he’s trying to flag down a taxi.

The reason Stick has survived every era of football, from Walsh’s 49ers to whatever your local high school is running on Friday night, is that it’s almost impossible to take away all three options simultaneously with zone coverage. You’d need to play man coverage, and even then, the tight end sitting in a soft spot is tough to stick with (no pun intended) (okay, pun slightly intended).

The Concept: Smash is a two-man concept that creates a high-low read on the corner defender, and it is absolutely devastating against Cover 2. If you’ve ever heard an analyst say “they’re picking on the corner” during a broadcast, there’s about a 60% chance they’re talking about Smash. It forces the cornerback to make an impossible choice, which, honestly, is just rude.

The Routes: The outside receiver (X or Z) runs a hitch (Route 0), settling at about 5-6 yards. The slot receiver (Y) or tight end runs a corner route (Route 7), breaking toward the sideline at 12-15 yards.

Why It Works: The hitch is designed to hold the cornerback’s attention. In Cover 2, the corner is responsible for the flat zone. When he sees the outside receiver hitch up right in front of him, his instincts scream “JUMP IT.” Every fiber of his football being wants to drive on that throw for a pick-six and a segment on the local news.

But the moment he bites, the absolute millisecond he commits his hips downhill toward that hitch, the corner route from the slot receiver is sailing over his head into the void between the corner and the safety. The safety in Cover 2 has half the field to cover. He can’t get there in time. The quarterback sees the corner drive on the hitch, comes off it, and throws the corner route into what might as well be an empty parking lot.

Now, if the corner is disciplined enough to stay home and not jump the hitch? Cool. Throw the hitch for 6 yards. First down. Move the chains. Try again next series. The defense gains nothing by being disciplined here except the privilege of giving up a completion anyway.

That’s the cruelty of Smash. You can play it perfectly and still lose.

The Concept: Drive floods the middle of the field at multiple depths, and the result is the kind of organized chaos that makes zone defenders question their career choices. Two receivers running crossing routes at different levels create natural picks and force defenders to navigate traffic they didn’t plan for. It’s essentially the football equivalent of someone cutting in line, technically against the rules, practically impossible to stop.

The Routes: The inside receiver (Z or H) runs a shallow cross or in-breaking route (Route 6), coming across the formation at about 5-6 yards. Another receiver (Y) runs a deeper dig (Route 6) at about 10-12 yards, crossing behind the shallow route.

Why It Works: The shallow cross is the setup man. He comes flying across the formation at full speed, dragging linebackers and underneath coverage with him. The defenders tracking the shallow crosser create a wake, a trail of disrupted zone responsibilities, and the deeper dig route runs right through that wake about 5-7 yards behind.

For the quarterback, it’s a progression read. If the underneath coverage chases the shallow crosser, the dig is sitting wide open at the second level. If the defense stays disciplined on the deeper route, the shallow crosser is going to catch the ball with a full head of steam moving laterally, and good luck tackling a receiver in stride running across the field with space.

Drive is also one of those concepts that generates natural “rub” situations without technically being illegal. The shallow crosser’s path intersects with the areas where man-coverage defenders need to run. It’s the football equivalent of holding the door open for someone and then walking really slowly in front of them. Not against the rules. Definitely annoying. Extremely effective.

The Concept: If you only learn one concept to beat man coverage, make it Mesh. This is the man-coverage killer. The concept that defensive backs genuinely hate. Two receivers crossing at shallow depth create rubs and picks that turn man coverage into a suggestion rather than a scheme. Mesh is basically a legal screen, and if that sounds broken, it’s because it kind of is.

The Routes: Two receivers, typically the X and Y, cross each other’s paths at 5-6 yards depth, both running slant-like routes (Route 2) in opposite directions. They pass within a yard of each other, creating a natural pick point. A third option (H or T) might sit in the middle of the field or run a wheel route as a checkdown or big-play alternative.

Why It Works: In man coverage, a defender has to follow his assigned receiver everywhere. But when two receivers cross at the same depth, the defenders trailing them are going to collide, screen each other, or at minimum slow each other down significantly. The receiver who emerges cleanest from the crossing point is the one who gets the ball.

The quarterback doesn’t even need to make a pre-snap read to know this will work against man coverage. He just watches the crossing point post-snap. One of those two receivers is going to pop open. It happens virtually every time. The only question is which one, and that answer reveals itself instantly at the mesh point.

Against zone? Mesh is still effective because you have two receivers running through zones in opposite directions. Zone defenders have to pass off receivers, and the crossing action creates confusion about who’s responsible for whom. It’s not as automatic as against man, but it’s not exactly difficult either.

The third option, typically a back or tight end sitting behind the mesh or running a wheel, gives the quarterback a safety valve and occasionally a big play if the defense is so focused on the crossing receivers that they lose the underneath guy entirely. Which they do. More often than they’d like to admit.

The Concept: Texas (sometimes called Angle) is the running back’s moment to shine as a receiver, and it specifically exists to create a mismatch between your running back and whatever linebacker or safety drew the short straw of covering him. This is isolation football in the passing game. Find a matchup you like, exploit it, repeat until they adjust, and when they adjust, exploit the adjustment. It’s the circle of offensive life.

The Routes: The running back (T) releases out of the backfield like he’s running a flat route, outside release toward the sideline, then sharply breaks back inside on an angle. The initial outside release sells the flat defender on a swing or flat route, pulling him wide, and the sharp inside break leaves the running back heading upfield into the space the defender just vacated.

Why It Works: Linebackers are not built to cover running backs in space. This is a known fact. It’s been a known fact for about 40 years. And yet, every Sunday (and Saturday, and Friday night), Texas keeps working because the fundamental mismatch hasn’t changed. A running back with even average route-running ability can sell the outside release, get the linebacker to open his hips toward the sideline, and then break inside while the linebacker is still trying to redirect.

The result is an easy throw to the middle of the field for 8-12 yards. The running back catches it moving upfield. Linebackers are out of position. Safeties are too deep. It’s the kind of easy, efficient completion that doesn’t get talked about on highlight shows but absolutely wins football games.

Texas is also a phenomenal blitz beater. If the defense sends the linebacker who would normally cover the running back, there’s nobody left to cover the angle route. The running back releases, no one picks him up, and the quarterback has an uncontested throw to a player with the ball in space. Blitz, meet audible. Nice try.

The Concept: Hank is the West Coast offense’s version of comfort food. It’s a three-receiver concept designed to give the quarterback reliable, underneath options against zone coverage, and it operates on the revolutionary principle of “put guys where defenders aren’t.” Groundbreaking stuff. But you know what? It works. Every time. Your offensive coordinator might not name a play after it in the film room, but Hank is quietly picking up third-and-6 conversions all season long while flashier concepts are getting the credit.

The Routes: The inside receiver (Y) runs a curl (Route 4), coming back toward the quarterback at about 10-12 yards. The outside receiver (X) runs a hitch (Route 0), settling at about 5-6 yards near the sideline. The running back (T) swings out of the backfield as a checkdown option, usually to the same side as the curl.

Why It Works: Hank creates three distinct options at three different spots on the field, all underneath the coverage. The quarterback reads from the curl to the hitch to the checkdown, and whoever has the most space gets the ball. It’s not complicated. It’s not tricky. It’s just math. You have three receivers and (usually) only two underneath defenders in zone coverage. Someone is open. Find him.

The curl gives you the biggest chunk, 10-12 yards on a comeback against a zone defender who can’t jump it without leaving the flat exposed. The hitch gives you the quick, safe throw to move the chains when the curl is covered. And the running back’s swing provides the “if everything else is covered, dump it here and let the athlete work” option that keeps the play from ever truly failing.

Hank won’t blow anyone’s mind. It won’t show up in coaching clinics as a revolutionary concept. But it is the reliable, every-down play that keeps drives alive when nothing else is working. It’s the duct tape of offensive football. Every team needs it. Every good team uses it more than they’d publicly admit.

The Concept: Shallow Cross is Drive’s slightly more sophisticated older brother. It creates a layered attack across the field, giving the quarterback reads at multiple depths and forcing zone defenders to make choices they don’t want to make. Where Drive floods the middle at two levels, Shallow Cross stretches the entire width of the field while maintaining that same multi-level structure.

The Routes: The Z receiver runs a shallow cross, coming from one side of the formation to the other at about 5-6 yards depth, basically full sprint across the field as flat and fast as possible. Another receiver (Y or X) runs a deeper in-breaking route, typically a dig (Route 6) at about 12-14 yards, crossing behind the shallow.

Why It Works: The shallow crosser is essentially a controlled missile launched across the formation. He’s running full speed with one job: get to the other side of the field and catch the ball in stride. Linebackers and zone defenders have to honor him because if they don’t, the quarterback is going to throw a layup to a receiver with a running start and nothing but daylight.

When they do honor the shallow crosser, when they drop their eyes and track him across the formation, the dig route behind them opens up at the second level. The intermediate defender can’t be in two places. He either stops the shallow cross or the dig. He cannot do both. The quarterback reads his movement and delivers accordingly.

The layered aspect is what makes Shallow Cross so effective. Unlike a single-route concept where the defense knows exactly what’s coming, the quarterback has options at 5 yards, 12 yards, and potentially a third outlet if the back stays in as a checkdown. The defense has to defend the whole field, and they simply don’t have enough bodies to cover every level while also rushing the passer.

This is the concept that offensive coordinators call on third-and-medium when they absolutely need a conversion. It’s the “we need 7 yards and we’re going to scheme someone open at 8” play. Boring? Maybe. Effective? Absurdly.

The Concept: Flood is exactly what it sounds like: you pick a side of the field and drown it in receivers. Three routes, all on the same side, at three different depths. Zone coverage relies on defenders being responsible for areas of the field. Flood says “cool, here are three guys in your area, have fun.”

The Routes: The outside receiver (X) runs a go route (Route 9), stretching the deep defender vertically and clearing the intermediate space. The slot receiver (H) runs an out route (Route 5) at about 10-12 yards, settling near the sideline. A third receiver (Y) either runs a crossing route into the flood side or a flat route (Route 1) at about 5 yards.

Why It Works: Flood creates a three-level vertical stretch on one side of the field. The go route clears the deep third, pulling the safety or deep corner with it. The out route sits in the intermediate zone that the deep defender just vacated. And the flat route occupies the short zone underneath.

Most zone coverages have two defenders responsible for the area Flood is attacking, a deep defender and a short/flat defender. You’re sending three receivers at two defenders. Somebody has to be wrong. The quarterback reads from deep to short (or short to deep, depending on the system), identifies which level is unoccupied, and delivers.

The specific beauty of Flood against Cover 3 is surgical. The deep third defender has to respect the go route. The flat defender has to honor the flat route. That leaves the out route at 10-12 yards sitting in no-man’s land between them, and the quarterback has all day to see it develop and deliver a ball to the sideline.

Even against Cover 2, Flood is effective because the corner (who’s usually responsible for the flat) has to choose between the flat route and the out route. If he sinks to the out, throw the flat. If he squats on the flat, throw the out. The safety can’t help because the go route is pushing him deep.

Flood is one of the most called concepts in football at every level because it’s almost impossible to defend with zone coverage without making a specific adjustment, and once you make that adjustment, the offense can run something else. It’s the conceptual Swiss Army knife of route design.

Here’s the thing about the West Coast offense that a lot of people miss: it’s not about any single concept. It’s about the system. It’s about having Dragon available when the defense plays soft, Lion when they blitz, Smash when they play Cover 2, and Mesh when they try to match up in man. Each concept attacks a specific defensive structure, and when you layer them together with consistent pre-snap reads, the quarterback is basically playing a video game where he already knows the cheat codes.

The quarterback’s job isn’t to throw the prettiest ball or make the most athletic play. His job is to identify the coverage, recall which concept beats that coverage, and deliver the ball to the correct receiver in rhythm. If he does that, if he makes the right read and throws the ball on time, the system handles the rest. Walsh designed it that way. And about four decades of football history have proven he was right.

Is it sexy? Depends on who you ask. If you think a 6-yard slant that turns into a 40-yard touchdown because the receiver broke a tackle in space is sexy, then yes. If you need a 50-yard rainbow to get excited, maybe watch basketball.

But if you want to understand why certain teams always seem to move the ball, why certain quarterbacks always seem to complete passes, and why certain offenses just feel efficient, it starts here. With these ten concepts. Memorize them, study them, and the next time you watch a game, you’ll see football in a completely different way.

You’ll also become that person in the living room yelling “THAT’S SMASH, HE SHOULD’VE THROWN THE CORNER” at the TV. Which is both a blessing and a curse. Your family may or may not forgive you.

Welcome to the West Coast.