Kevin Mawae was the catalyst for change at a time when the Jets needed to bury the tortured past and develop a successful, hard-nosed identity for the future. He was nasty, reliable and, because the Seattle Seahawks declined to retain his services, he was available.
The Jets signed Mawae to a five-year, $16.8M contract in February 1998—the highest salary ever awarded to a center at the time. There was no denying then, as there’s no denying now, that every dime was money well spent.
In a game enamored with skill positions, Mawae’s grace, agility, and startling quickness was a challenge to anyone who ever doubted a lineman’s athleticism. His versatility took him from left tackle to right guard before finally settling down at center during his final season with the Seahawks.
He then re-established the center position once he put on his No. 68 jersey for the Jets.
Mawae was an eight-time Pro Bowl selection, six with the Jets for every season from 1999 to 2004. He’s also an eight-time All-Pro and was selected to the NFL 2000’s All-Decade Team.
In 1998, Rich Cimini wrote about then-coach Bill Parcells’ recruitment strategy for the mauler who’d become the centerpiece of an effective Jets offense:
After last season, coach Bill Parcells made a shopping list of his biggest off-season needs. The No. 1 priority was to replace Roger Duffy at center. When Parcells recruited Mawae, he pulled the actual list out of a large binder and showed it to Mawae.
Parcells couldn’t stomach the thought of another season without an impact center.
“You’re held hostage if you don’t have a center,” Parcells said. “It’s the worst feeling. It’s like going to the dentist. Not good news.”
All eyes are on the quarterback after the snap, but it’s the center and his offensive line that set the tone. Parcells knew that better than anyone, and placed his faith in the 6’4″, 305-pound military brat.
Ironically enough, all the moving around in Mawae’s childhood translated to his style of play on the field. Talented linemen are often called anchors—an analogy that never truly fit with Mawae’s active and aggressive approach to blocking.
Hindsight allows us to see Parcells’ plan for the Jets more than 13 years ago with vivid clarity today.
Parcells and the Jets masterfully orchestrated a plan to snatch Curtis Martin away from the rival Patriots. It was Mawae’s job to make the coach look brilliant for the transaction.
Martin’s legendary career and consistent output is well known and appreciated among fans, but a lot of what Martin did for Gang Green is a credit to the powerhouse center who made it possible in the trenches.
Without triggering a chicken-egg debate, the center and running back simply complemented one another perfectly. They were the ideal partners, tremendous athletes entering their respective primes, on a team that needed them.
Martin and Mawae powered the Jets offense from 1998 to 2005 as the most reliable players in green. Neither missed games until 2005, when injuries staggered their careers and ended streaks for consecutive starts. (Martin started in 119-straight games; Mawae’s streak ended at 177.)
Nonetheless, while injuries claimed quarterbacks, free agency lured away receivers, and ineptitude removed coaches, Martin and Mawae were the Jets’ cornerstones, working tirelessly to keep the team competitive.
Martin rushed for 1,287 yards and eight touchdowns in his first season with the Jets, behind the brawny and brainy offensive line Mawae led. That continued through 2004 when Martin won the NFL rushing title with 1,697 yards behind Mawae and friends.
One of the most significant and impressive abilities in Mawae’s repertoire was quickness when pulling from the center position down the line of scrimmage. From his snap to the quarterback’s handoff, Mawae sealed off edges and smashed linebackers in the mouth before the running back gained yards.
When Mawae was drafted, the concept of a pulling center was considered more of a unique skill, exclusively attributed to Steelers great Dermontti Dawson.
After Mawae left Seattle for the Jets, former teammate and Seahawks standout linebacker Chad Brown doubted Mawae’s potential to be in Dawson’s class.
“I don’t want to take anything away from Kevin, but Dermontti is in a class by himself,” Brown said before showering Mawae with praise. “Most teams don’t have the athletic ability of a Kevin Mawae, who gets downfield and makes blocks against defensive backs in the secondary. Those guys turns 8-yard runs into 18- or 28-yarders. He is one of the most athletic centers in the league.”
No one ever accused Brown of being clairvoyant. Perhaps his assessment of Mawae’s ability felt true in 1998; it definitely didn’t hold as the end of the story on Mawae’s career.
“He can pull on a linebacker that’s shaded further to the side than he is and block him, which he shouldn’t be able to do,” Martz continued.
“He’s a freak.”
Quinn masterfully explained the genius behind the Jets blocking assignments during Mawae’s tenure, and how they managed to confuse defenses at will:
When Mawae pulls, it is generally because the former guard has designated himself as the lead blocker when calling out the blocking scheme to his offensive line. The result is a shift in the balance of the running game, former San Francisco All-Pro center Randy Cross says.
“Instead of having a fullback blocking a linebacker, now you’ve got a center on a linebacker and your fullback on a corner or safety,” Cross says.
Teams react to it, and several defenses the Jets have seen this season – notably the Green Bay Packers – began reacting to Mawae’s movement, rather than the guards. Once the linebackers started following Mawae, the Jets were able to counter the other way for big gains.
The center established the offensive rhythm.
BY ANY MEANS
As president of the NFL Player’s Association, cameras often captured Mawae in the center of this offseason’s nasty labor dispute. He wasn’t caught very often when he was a player doing things that earned him an intense reputation.
That’s a step below calling him dirty, but a distinction that must be made for a player who “knows how much he can get away with within the rules,” according to an anonymous coach speaking with Cimini in 2004.
“Sometimes he goes a little too far,” the coach continued.
Early into the 2004 season, Mawae fractured his right hand in a victory against the San Diego Chargers. Then-coach Herm Edwards was mum on the details, but left room for people to speculate on Mawae’s status and wonder if his streak of 157-consecutive starts was in jeopardy.
Mawae returned to the field with his right hand wrapped in a cast and switched to southpaw for his ball-snapping duties. What began as a testament to his ironman toughness evolved into a running joke as analysts and fans questioned the severity of the injury weeks later.
Truthfully, it looked like Mawae was enjoying the club and using it to his advantage at every opportunity.
“The ref came up to me three or four times and said, ‘I’m getting complaints,’ ” Mawae said after a 2004 win against Miami. “I said, ‘What do you want me to do?’ Don’t play against me. Or I’ll hide one hand behind my back.”
The layers of bandages eventually came off, but Mawae’s style never softened. His brand of football has a philosophy; and while he’s a friendly, devout Christian off the field, Mawae’s pride in his work is what made his career special to football fans.
He’s the throwback player to generations ago who’d buckle his chin pad, play through pain, and do everything within his power to walk away knowing he did what was necessary.
“You either play football or you don’t,” Mawae told the Daily News. “Guys say I cross the line, but I’ve never seen my name on a list of the dirtiest players. If people take exception to the way I play, I don’t care. They don’t have to like it, but they’d better be ready for the way I play.”
OVER IN A SNAP
To put it gently, the Jets’ overall success varied widely during Mawae’s tenure.
The 1998 season produced the team’s best results with a 12-4 regular-season finish and a heart-breaking end in Denver for the AFC Championship Game.
Injuries devastated the team at various positions for years until Martin and Mawae suffered season-ending injuries in 2005. Martin’s knees disallowed him from returning to football; Mawae’s torn triceps tendon spelled the end of his career with the Jets. The future Parcells envisioned in 1998 ended.
Even without a championship, the mission was accomplished. Through Mawae, the Jets elevated from the 3-13 and 1-14 disasters of the Rich Kotite era (or error). There were bumps in the road in Mawae’s seven seasons with the Jets, but hope always existed behind him. He embodied the team’s competitive spirit and helped establish an identity for the Jets that still exists today.
In 2009, Mawae’s successor Nick Mangold told The Jets Blog, “He really set up the center position in New York. People really know about it because of Kevin and what he was able to do.”
Mangold made a seamless transition into a role Mawae defined and placed his own stamp on it, but that doesn’t negate what Mawae meant for the Jets, or how people evaluate an offensive lineman.
“It was difficult coming in and having that kind of a player here before you. You have that hanging over your head,” Mangold said. “But I do appreciate Kevin.”
We all do.