How to Tame Wide-Open Spaces
A look at Arkansas Razorbacks Defensive Coordinator Travis Williams' 2025 Plans
I just got back from a week-long trip with speaking engagements in Montana and Wyoming. I took my wife and rented a car. It was awesome to explore the wide-open spaces of the American West.
The American West, a space so big you could lose a day just driving through a single county. It’s not just big, it’s a mosaic of geological chaos and quiet, stoic perseverance. It’s the kind of place that forces you to stare at the horizon and ask questions you didn’t know you had.
This isn’t your neighbor’s manicured lawn. The West is a land of extremes and untamed ambition. It’s the arid heart of the Mojave, so hot it can make you question reality, and the snow-capped, jagged peaks of the Rockies, which stand as monuments to geologic fury (we experienced 40 degree temperature swings mid-day with elevation changes in Wyoming alone). You’ve got the Great Plains, a sea of grass so vast it could make a sailor seasick, where bison once roamed and now, maybe, you’ll see a lone tractor crawling along a grid of dusty roads.
The cultural identity of this place is as sprawling and chaotic as its geography. It’s a myth built on the backs of pioneers who packed up their lives, pointed a wagon west, and said, "I'll figure it out when I get there." It’s the home of the Cowboy, a figure so iconic he's more of a cartoon than a man, a symbol of rugged independence that still somehow rings true. This is where Manifest Destiny, that audacious, full-bodied idea, was put to the test. It was a philosophy of expansion and reinvention, a belief that you could always outrun your past and start over with nothing but a patch of land and a stubborn streak.
It’s a place that teaches you humility. You quickly learn that a white picket fence or a five-year plan means nothing when a flash flood or a wildfire decides to redraw the map. The West is less a destination and more a living, breathing force, a testament to what happens when nature is allowed to run the show. It's the kind of wide-open country that makes you feel both incredibly small and absolutely, completely free.
It’s this same wide-open, anything-is-possible state that we find college football offenses in 2025.
It's a statistical anomaly and a tactical masterpiece all at once. For the longest time, the idea of a college team averaging 26 points a game was the mark of a good offense, a sign you were operating in the big leagues. It was a milestone they hit for the first time in the year 2000. Now? That number looks like a quaint relic from a bygone era. By 2016, the national average had already climbed to 30.4 points, and last year, 51 teams were operating at a clip higher than that. The offense isn't just winning the fight; it's practically running defenses off the field and into the parking lot.
You look at a team like Ole Miss from last year, putting up a ridiculous 526.6 yards per game. That’s a video game stat line. But even that still pales in comparison to the 2019 LSU Tigers, who set the SEC record by averaging an absurd 568.4 yards and an almost unbelievable 7.9 yards per play. They weren't just moving the ball; they were moving it at a different gravitational constant.
This isn't a fluke. We watched it happen in real-time. First came the spread, then the no-huddle, and then the RPO. It's a relentless evolutionary cycle where offenses keep building bigger, faster boats while defenses are still trying to plug holes in their old ones with duct tape. These systems are designed to do one thing: create space for their best athletes to go make magic. They manufacture mismatches, push the tempo until the defense is gasping for air, and expose every weakness. And unlike the NFL, where every team is stacked with talent, most college teams simply lack the depth and experience to withstand that kind of punishment week after week. The result is a wild, high-scoring symphony of offense, where every team with a good quarterback and a decent playbook has a chance to light up the scoreboard.
What are defenses supposed to do? Maybe they can learn from how the West was tamed.
In the vastness of the American West, after the buffalo and the Native Americans were ousted, in their place, a sea of cattle roamed free on the open range. This was an era of rugged individualism and wide-open spaces—a beautiful, but completely unscalable chaos.
You see, a rancher’s business was built on a prayer and the hope that his brand was clearer than the next guy’s. Roundups were a free-for-all of rustlers and territorial disputes. The whole system was held together by an unwritten code and a healthy fear of a six-shooter. It was the Wild West as Hollywood imagined it, all because one simple, crucial element was missing: a way to divide the land and contain the animals.
Then, a man named Joseph Glidden, a farmer from Illinois, came along with a solution that was as simple as it was brutal. He took a wire, added a few sharp barbs, and created and patented the first commercially successful barbed wire. It wasn't the kind of elegant innovation you’d put on display in a museum. It was a vicious, no-nonsense deterrent, a cheap and effective way to say, "This is mine, and you're not invited."
This little twist of steel changed everything. Men like Isaac L. Ellwood, the co-inventor and a man who built a cattle empire with a legendary mix of grit and gumption, saw the future. He bought the sprawling Spade Ranch with two tracts in West Texas and the Texas Panhandle, a property so big it could swallow a few small European countries (I helped manage leases from one of these properties in the Permian Basin early in my carear). But instead of letting his cattle scatter like a handful of spilled oats, Ellwood started building fences. He strung up miles and miles of their invention, enclosing his kingdom and creating a private, defensible empire where cattle could graze, and rivals were forced to ride on by.
The fences ended the open range, and with it, the era of the cowboy as we knew him. America was, for the first time, not a wide-open expanse, but a collection of private, fenced-in parcels. The free-range spirit was replaced by deeds and boundary lines. The chaos of the open range was gone, but so was the freedom. It was a revolution, not of armies and grand speeches, but of wire and posts, and it remade the West from a shared commons into a private commodity, one thorny barb at a time.
So what does a barbed-wire defense look like?
The concept in football where a defense forces an offense into certain places on the field is called funneling.
Funneling is a defensive strategy used to guide or steer an offensive play toward a specific area of the field where the defense has an advantage. The goal is to limit the offense's options and force them into a predefined trap or area of concentrated defensive players. It involves using speed, disguising coverages, and ultimately forcing turnovers.
This concept is applied in both run and pass defense:
In Run Defense
This is the most common use of funneling. A defensive end or outside linebacker is designated as the "force player."Their primary responsibility is to contain the outside of the field. Instead of trying to make the tackle themselves, their job is to "funnel" the running back back inside toward the middle of the field, where other defenders (linebackers and safeties) are waiting to make the tackle. This prevents the running back from getting to the sideline and breaking a long run.
In Pass Defense
Defenses can also funnel passing plays. A cornerback might use a specific technique or alignment to force a wide receiver to run their route toward the middle of the field. This can guide the receiver into the coverage of a safety waiting over the top, which is a common strategy in a Cover 2 defense. Similarly, a blitz can be designed to force a quarterback out of the pocket to a specific side where a defensive player is waiting to make a play.
A related term is containment, which is often used specifically for mobile quarterbacks. The defense will set a "contain" to prevent the quarterback from scrambling outside the tackles, forcing them to either step up into the pocket (where blitzing defenders are waiting) or throw the ball away.
Is Defensive Coordinator Travis Williams ready to Spade the SEC?
He once said, "Don't leave any meat on the bone. The great defenses just go out there and just be greedy. Like, they want it all,"
Here are the key tenets of his coaching philosophy:
Aggressive, Attacking Mindset: Williams believes in taking the fight to the offense, rather than being reactive. He has stated his mindset is to "throw a curveball and make the offense panic a bit," which he accomplishes through an aggressive use of blitzing and pressure packages.
Versatility and Adaptability: A core part of his philosophy is not being tied to a single, rigid scheme. He tailors his defense to the talent on his roster and the specific opponents they are facing. He believes in being "as multiple as possible" to put his players in the best position to succeed, even if it means running a scheme that isn't his personal preference.
Focus on Fundamentals: Despite his aggressive style, Williams heavily emphasizes defensive fundamentals. He wants his players to "run to the ball like their life depended on it," tackle with authority, and execute their assignments with efficiency.
Defensive Line Dominance: His defensive scheme, often a 4-3 Over front, is designed to free up the defensive linemen to make plays. Under his coaching, his defensive units have shown a knack for generating sacks and tackles for loss, and he has often had defensive linemen among the team's leading tacklers.
Before T-Will arrived, the Hogs gave up 407 yards and 31 points per game in 2022. In 2023, in his first year, the Hogs improved to give up 357 yards and 27.9 points per game. Last season, they gave up a few more yards in 376 per game but held opponents to 24.92 points per game.
So why did last year feel like we were so bad on defense if the statistics tell a different story? Big Plays.
The Hogs had the 34th best run defense in the country but the 111th ranked pass defense. We gave up big plays with the 3rd most 10+ yard plays in the country and the most 60+ yard plays in the SEC.
And we also didn’t make big plays on defense. We ranked 102nd in both forcing turnovers and tackles for loss.
This year, we must contain (or fence in) those big plays.
So who is going to help the Hogs accomplish this fencing effort?
In addition to returning players coming back smarter and stronger, the team brought in 15 freshman and 13 transfers on defense.
Newcomers to know:
Justus Boone - DL - Florida
Caleb Wooden - S - Auburn
Kani Walker - CB - OU
David Oke - DL - Abilene Christian
Julian Neal - CB - Stanford
Phillip Lee - DL - Troy
Caleb Bell - DL - Freshman - his dad was NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year in 2001
Keiundre Johnson - DL - Freshman - drives a Camero and adds much needed speed to our D-line
Tavion Wallace - LB - Freshman - highest ranked recruit in our class
So what exactly does T-Will and the 2025 Hogs Defense need to do?
You want a defense to use funneling and containment better? You're not just asking them to play football; you're asking them to become a well-oiled machine of discipline and unselfishness in a world of pure chaos. It's like trying to get a group of toddlers to all walk in the same direction—everyone has their own idea of where they want to go, and usually, it’s not where you need them to be.
The truth is, for a defense to effectively use those concepts, they've got to buy into a single, brutal idea: "I’m not trying to make the play; I’m trying to make the play for someone else."
We last saw this effectively done at Arkansas when Bobby Petrino was our head coach and defensive coordinator Willy Robinson implemented a triangle defense forcing all plays through his best players: Trey Flowers (DL), Jerry Franklin (LB), and Jerico Nelson (CB).
Here’s what it would take:
1. The Force Player Has to Embrace the Unglamorous
You can forget about the defensive end who’s obsessed with sack numbers. The "force player" on the edge—that guy responsible for funneling a running back back inside—has to be a cold-blooded pragmatist. His job isn't to be a hero; it's to be a wall. He has to run his assignment, set a hard edge, and turn the play back into the teeth of the defense. It’s an unglamorous job that gets you zero stats, but without it, the whole damn thing falls apart and the running back gets a free ticket to the sideline.
2. The Back Seven Has to Believe in the System
The "funnel" is a useless concept if the linebackers and safeties aren't there to receive the play. It's a team effort, a beautiful ballet of bodies moving to a singular purpose. You need linebackers who can scrape and fill the gaps, and safeties who can come downhill with a head of steam. Every player has to trust that the guy next to him is doing his job, because if a linebacker cheats an inch, that's where the running back is going to find a seam. It's a fragile ecosystem, and a single mistake can be a catastrophic breakdown.
3. The Whole Unit Must Have a Collective Soul
This isn't just about coaching a new scheme. It's about instilling a culture of selfless, disciplined play. It’s about building a collective soul that values a three-yard gain more than a sack, and a well-executed run stop over a highlight-reel hit. It takes a defensive coordinator who can convince a group of alpha athletes that the best way to win is not to be a hero, but to be an anonymous, disciplined cog in a machine of chaos and destruction. It’s a hard sell in a world that rewards individual glory, but when a defense buys in, it's a thing of beauty—a well-built fence that turns an offense's playbook into a very short story.
In Sum
For the Hogs to be successful this seasons the defense will have to step-up. They will have to find a way to contain the wide-open offenses they will face, remove the cowboys of rogue individual performances, and funnel opposing offenses into situation we want to face.
“The landscape of the American West has to be seen to believed and has to be believed to be seen.” - N. Scott Momaday
We must contain them until they doubt. And then force turnovers until they give up and move back East.
-WPS