Tennessee Titans

Cam Ward took fifty-five sacks as a rookie. Fifty-five. That's the number that defines Tennessee's 2025 — and the door into everything else: how the passing game cratered, why Tony Pollard quietly put together one of the more overlooked seasons in the league, and what a defense with real teeth but no takeaways actually looked like. Three wins, fourteen losses. No playoffs. The Titans finished ninth among AFC non-playoff teams, and by every available measure, the year was a muffed one — but there are threads worth pulling.

Start with the team-level portrait, because the numbers are stark. Tennessee's offense finished at minus one hundred fifty-eight point nine in total expected points added — a measure of how much every play helped or hurt their chances of scoring, and minus one fifty-nine is thirtieth in the league, ninth percentile. The defense allowed plus ninety-nine point five, twenty-eighth, sixteenth percentile — and on defense, you want that number going the other way. Third down is where the season lived and died: thirty-three point two percent, dead last in the NFL. Can't move the chains, can't get off the field, you lose fourteen games. And this wasn't boom-or-bust — outside the Week Sixteen smashing of Kansas City, twenty-six to nine, this was a steady, grinding floor. Seven losses by sixteen points or more.

Now let's talk about the passing offense, because this is where the season got muffed the hardest. Tennessee threw for one hundred ninety point six yards per game and finished at minus one hundred thirty-seven point three in passing expected points added — thirty-first, sixth percentile. Ward threw for three thousand one hundred sixty-nine yards with fifteen touchdowns and seven picks, and his completion percentage came in three points below expectation, thirty-second among qualified starters. But the headline is the protection. Fifty-six sacks allowed on six hundred forty-six dropbacks — an eight point seven percent sack rate, sixth-most in football. You can't develop a rookie quarterback when he's hitting the turf every twelve dropbacks. The brutal example came Week Seventeen against New Orleans — second quarter, first and twenty, Ward gets sacked, fumbles, and the Saints scoop it for a thirty-three yard touchdown. Minus eight point eight expected points on a single snap. That play was the season in eleven yards. The lone bright spot in the receiving room: tight end Chig Okonkwo, fifty-six catches, five hundred sixty yards, two touchdowns — and the team's leading receiver, which tells you everything about the wide receiver group.

Now let's dig into the rushing offense, and here's the one genuine smash story of Tennessee's year. Tony Pollard. Two hundred forty-two carries, one thousand eighty-two yards, four point five a clip, five touchdowns — and plus one hundred twelve point seven rushing yards over expected, meaning he gained a hundred twelve more yards than an average back would have given the same blocking and the same boxes. Trended up as the volume grew. As a unit, though, the rushing offense still finished at minus twenty-five point one in expected points added, twenty-seventh, because volume couldn't flip the math when the passing game was a black hole. Four point two yards per carry as a team, thirtieth. But the Pollard tape — the Week Fourteen win in Cleveland, his sixty-five yard touchdown run on first and ten in the first quarter — that's the kind of explosive play this offense almost never had. Fifty-one explosive plays all year. About three a game. Pollard was carrying water for an offense that couldn't get out of its own way.

Next up, the pass defense, which is a more complicated story than the bottom-line ranking suggests. Tennessee allowed plus ninety-three point three nine in passing expected points added — sixteenth percentile, not good — but the pass rush showed up. Forty-two sacks, fifty-ninth percentile, with Jeffery Simmons living in opposing backfields. The problem was the takeaway column: six interceptions, six fumble recoveries, twelve total — twenty-ninth in the league, thirteenth percentile. They got pressure. They didn't finish. When they did, it was season-defining — Week Fourteen in Cleveland, fourth quarter, Tennessee up twenty-one to seventeen, cornerback Roger McCreary punches the ball out on a completion, Cody Gray scoops it and returns it to the Cleveland eight. That single play swung the game by more than six expected points and got them one of their three wins. They had the juice up front. They just didn't get their hands on enough footballs.

And the run defense — this is the soft underbelly. One hundred sixteen yards per game allowed, twenty-one rushing touchdowns surrendered, and a per-carry expected points added of plus zero point zero one. Thirty-first in the league in run defense expected points added — second-worst in football, steady floor of bad all year. Opponents converted forty-one percent of their third downs, and a big chunk was second-and-medium becoming third-and-short because the front couldn't hold up between the tackles. No individual to single out here — when your run defense is bottom-of-the-league, it's a structural problem, not a personnel highlight reel. That's where the rebuild has to start.