Let’s be honest, success or failure of Washington’s offense in 2018 will likely come down to Alex Smith, and the quarterback’s relationship with head coach Jay Gruden.

But Alex Smith is, umm, Alex Smith. The possibilities of Smith in Gruden’s system are intriguing. But Smith doesn’t exactly inspire a burning in the football loins.

You know who does? Derrius Guice.

How Guice fits in Gruden’s slash-and-kick run game isn’t quite as important as his new quarterback, but it isn’t far off.

Washington’s rushing attack was terrible last season. It averaged a measly 3.1 yards per carry (30th in the NFL), and sat 28th in rushing DVOA. No matter how you try to dress it up, it stunk.

(Allow me to briefly continue my crusade against THE lazy play-action misnomer: You don’t need a good, or even competent, run-game to be an excellent play-action side. You simply need to commit to the fake, whole-heartedly. Washington finished fourth in play-action effectiveness in 2017 (averaging 8.7 yards per attempt). Opposing defenses laughed at Washington’s run-game; they still fell victim to the play-action. This is now a formal campaign: Make Play-Action Discussions Accurate Again).

The team’s top-runner in 2017 was Samaje Perine, a rookie fourth-round pick — a strong runner with a less-than-ideal modern skill-set. Perine ranked 47th among all running backs in DVOA. That may have topped the ‘Skins, but it was gruesome enough to rank below a washed-up Adrian Peterson and something called Wayne Gallman, which sounds like some kind of rejected name for a Clark Kent/Superman knockoff.

Perine’s basic numbers were even worse. He averaged 3.4 yards per carry on 174 attempts, never becoming the first-down churner the team had envisioned. Perine wasn’t a pile mover. He developed tunnel vision between the tackles, and often slowed his feet on contact, a cardinal sin:

Backup Chris Thompson — a nippier runner — averaged a yard per attempt more on four fewer carries per game.

(Thompson’s receiving numbers were even more impressive — averaging 13.1 yards per reception on a tick above 50 targets.)

Still: Gruden and company tried to make the Perine thing happen. They wanted that downhill thumper; the guy who would happily follow in-behind their intricate gap-scheme concepts — pulling and moving blockers — before generating some yards after contact to keep the offense ahead of the chains.

Perime wasn’t it. At least, he hasn’t been yet.

No matter. The team has Guice now. Guice is different; Guice is special.

The former LSU back slipped in the draft due to “off-the-field” concerns related to “immaturity” and “the people he surrounds himself with”, which is typically scouting parlance for gang ties, or a veil used to conceal homophobia. In this case, I’m not sure which it is. And I’m not sure it matters.

For what it’s worth, Guice’s former LSU coaches vouch for him. Any sense of immaturity is the typical kind: All night video game sessions; a penchant for snacking (donuts being the food of choice); and a belief that, as a star, he could get away with a little more (not unfounded).

Those are things all rookies must deal with, particularly those who starred at big-time college programs.

Guice’s path to the draft was also a little clunky. He faced myriad nagging injuries and was never fully healthy his junior season — he didn’t move with the same oomph. And he played in Matt Canada’s funky offense, which the stilted brain trust at LSU never fully embraced — despite making him one of the highest paid coordinators in the country.

(They were desperate to take offensive decisions out of Ed Orgergon’s hands. LSU started to throw around elite coordinator money to good coaches once the top of the food chain guys turned Coach O down — a wise move, by the way. Orgeron began to interfere and tinker with Canada’s work 24-hours onto the job. The two never saw eye-to-eye)

Like many scheme-heads, I love Canada. At least, I love the idea of Matt Canada. He’s trying different shit. In a football world where teams at the high school level right through to the NFL are running similar stuff — principally, if not exactly — injecting a little bit of difference is welcome.

With that said, however, using Guice on mini jetsweeps was probably not the best use of the back’s stellar talent — some may say it was batshit crazy (Orgeron certainly did):

We still got glimpses of the true Guice: The plant-and-go runner with sudden athleticism; the ability to run around or run over anyone on the defense; that swashbuckling, hard to describe, I’m better than you and I know it and YOU know it attitude that made his explosive 20-to-30-yard runs such a joy.

In those moments, we got to see him at his best: As a slash-and-kick, powerful runner. A mini Marshawn Lynch, if you will.

Guice sports vision and patience and explosiveness and power. A deadly combination. Together, it makes him a tantalizing outside-zone runner.

There was a shocking lack of outside-zone from LSU last year. That won’t be a problem with Washington next season or beyond.

Washington runs a diverse system. There’s more gap-scheme and power stuff under Gruden than there ever was with Mike Shanahan, but outside-zone remains a foundational element of the teams run-scheme — as with any decent offense in 2018.

Gruden, his offensive line coach Bill Callahan — among the best line coaches in the league, and one of the greatest individual teachers of blocking mechanics — and offensive coordinator Matt Cavanaugh all have experience running different styles.

Together in Washington, that mind-meld has led to a run-scheme that sprinkles in a little of everything.

True, the trio embraces power football as much any offense in the league. But all those quirky gap-scheme tweaks, and the nifty play-action/boot-action calls that Gruden so loves, stem from the sides ability to commit to outside-zone.

And why not? They have the personnel and the athletes. In outside-zone, the big boys get out and run. The running back must press the line of scrimmage and make a quick, decisive decision: bend, bang or bounce?

Will the back start one way, then cut back sharply, zooming up the field (bend)? Will he, instead, drop his pad level and slam into the wall in front, hoping to burst through a hole (bang)? Or, will he keep pressing and pressing and pressing, working the line of scrimmage until he’s outside of the numbers and ready to take-off closer towards the sideline (bounce)?

The decision-making is placed in the back’s hands (or head). On gap-scheme/man-scheme runs, the runner is given a specific point. Attack this gap, using this rhythm. The offensive line seals angles, does the true lifting and the running back is told to arrives on time.

Zone-runs are a little different. It’s the runners turn to read-and-react, picking from a couple options:

That’s good news for Guice. Little irks the runner more than defined point A-to-B runs all game, all-the-time:

No Sir. No, thank you.

Guice likes to read the field; to freelance a little. He wants to attack the line of scrimmage and make up his own mind, in his own time. Once he’s decided, he explodes with an almost violent aggression:

Wrapping him up is difficult. He plays with a low center of gravity and low pad-level; it’s tricky to hit him with a clean shot. And he rarely stutters or stops his feet. He’s relentless, tilting and weaving as he chugs along, rather than hitting the breaks and grinding a play to a halt.

It’s difficult to make split-second decisions at the line of scrimmage. The ante is upped when you do so moving at warp-speed:

How do you even think about approaching that as a defensive lineman?

Alright, I see him; I’m in my lane; I’ve got outside position. I’ll hold my ground. There he is. Then, whoop, he’s gone. It’s not like he delivered some kind of leap-out-your-cleats shimmy shake or jump-cut, either. It’s just a casual slant of the shoulders. Before you have time to adjust your sightline, he’s 15-yards downfield.

In that way, Guice has all the attributes to be a top-level zone-cut runner: Patience, decisiveness, and that special ability to accelerate while he cuts.

That last one in particular is devastating to linebackers and safeties. They think they have the right angle, and, if not, they can at least effort over and stop a big play:

Nope. They have to be perfect.

Fill the wrong lane, and Guice has the vision to exploit it — whether it’s a cavernous hole like above, or a tiny parting of the ways. By the time you realize you’ve hurtled toward the line of scrimmage too fast, or been a tick off with you coordinates, you’ve been punished.

It’s all about lower body strength rather than fluidity. Guice doesn’t have slippery hips. He’s not really elusive in the traditional sense. But he makes guys miss, the same way Marshawn did (does?): slamming a foot in the ground and shifting his body weight in such a fierce way that no one can keep up with him.

Throughout his college career, he was brought down on first contact only 60% of the time, per ProFootballFocus. At his college apex — that junior season — he averaged 3.97 yards after contact, and forced 42 missed tackles, both tops in the nation.

Give Guice 6-to-8 outside-zone runs a game — the way Seattle did with Lynch — and watch him soar.

Yet here’s the thing: he might be an even better gap-scheme runner — at least when he’s fully engaged.

Sure, he wants to read the situation and make a decision, but his patience and explosiveness are assets regardless of the play call.

Washington runs an egalitarian gap-scheme. Anyone and everyone can pull or move.

The O-line room is littered with stud athletes and even studlier technicians. And there’s that Callahan guy; the wizard who dispenses all kinds of worldly football wisdom and corrects minute details whenever it’s necessary.

On paper, Washington’s group should be really, really good.

The headliners are household names by this point: left tackle Trent Williams, one of the best linemen in the league, though injuries held him back in 2017; guard Brandon Scherff, the best interior linemen to enter the league since Zack Martin; right tackle Morgan Moses, a genuine giant, with enormous mitts, gigantic strides, and an annoying penchant for letting opposing linemen get under his pads.

That trio is hamstrung by their teammates, however. Starting guard Shawn Luavao is, umm, not good. Injuries have taken a toll on his career. Chase Roullier, who is projected to start at center following Spencer Long’s move to the Jets in free agency, doesn’t inspire much confidence either, following a less than impressive rookie campaign.

Roullier is a solid technician, but a bad athlete. You can get away with that some at center, particularly in running a large amount of outside and inside-zone (though you want those guys to be able to naturally climb to the second-level, the initial fit, and ability to twist and contort defenders is more important), but it restricts the volume of plays the offense is able to run effectively.

The rest of the group is a hodgepodge of maybe, possibly guys. The team didn’t invest significant draft capital or free agent dollars to upgrade an obvious weakness this summer.

Instead, they’re relying on internal development. The team suffered what would be a laughable amount of injuries in 2017, if it weren’t so damn distressing. They’re hoping guys on the roster — and a couple of smaller additions or two — will stay healthy and improve.

Ty Nsheke is one of the best swing-tackle backups in the league, but he doesn’t improve the starting five — unless he usurps Moses at some point. Tony Bergstom, a street free agent who started some games at center in 2017, is the answer to no question.

The team did add Lousiville’s Geron Christian in the third round of the Draft.

Christian is an interesting proposition. He played quick-side tackle for Bobby Petrino’s outfit, meaning he flipped between left and right tackle, down-in and down-out, depending on the play-call. He would mostly work on the side without an attached tight end:

Christian will add some always-needed depth at tackle in 2018. He’s unlikely to offer more beyond that in the early goings. There’s a chance he could play inside. But he’s not a natural dipper and he lacks functional strength. Not a good mix.

Christian’s technique in the run-game is littered with holes: often he takes a hop-step before engaging his defender; he doesn’t play with natural leverage, playing too up right; and he doesn’t have sudden power in his hands, playing more of a grapple and move game:

He doesn’t locate targets well, either, engaging with defenders up by their shoulders, rather than in the middle of their breast plate:

Above, he should get inside position. Instead, he ends up in a bear hug. You can’t control defenders that way. And you’re begging for a holding call.

Even Callahan can’t correct all of those issues in one preseason. Christian has an interesting set of physical skills — length, foot speed — but he has a long way to go before they’re part of an effective package.

One other character of intrigue: undrafted free agent Casey Dunn. A former FCS star, Dunn played his final college year at Auburn. He started 2017 as the Tigers’ sixth lineman, filling in wherever he was needed, and being used, essentially, as a move tight end on specific play calls.

He was thrust into the starting line-up as a center due to injuries. Before his own season was cut short by injuries, he performed admirably, going up against some guys who dwarfed him inside.

Dunn lacks size, that’s the big concern. He doesn’t strike you as an NFL athlete. And teams, rightly, favor pro-size over technique. You can teach hand position, you can’t teach arm length.

Still: Dunn is a true technician (he’s excellent in pass protection). He’s at his best on inside runs: engaging, twisting and climbing.

In that way his skillset is similar to Roullier’s. Dunn is interesting enough to earn a camp invite and practice squad spot. This Washington group doesn’t have many other avenues to improve its interior at this point.

And improve they must. 97% of Washington’s offense comes from a singleback set — 11 personnel: 66%; 12 personnel: 23%; 13 personnel: 8%.

Gruden and company will tinker with the number and alignment of tight ends. But, for the most part, they stick a back behind — or beside — the quarterback, let the big fellas rumble, and trust that back to execute his job, often doing so out of condensed formations (receivers inside the numbers):

It will be interesting to see if Washington dabbles with a fullback moving forward. It could aid some of the lines weak points. Or are Gruden and company so confident in the young back and the line’s core three, that even a minor flirtation is deemed pointless?

Crucial among all this is the team finding ways to keep its gap-scheme elements intact. They must start with that, then work backwards.

Few teams in the land like to pull and move their pieces as much as Washington. Every counter, sweep and power play this side of Joe Gibbs is featured somewhere in the playbook.

No one likes to pull and move their outside guys as much. Part of that is philosophical, part practical: the two beasts outside are the O-line’s top athletes — even Brandon Scherff is a guy who prefers to get upfield rather than pull across the formation.

Average to below-average athletes inside will limit some of what they can do.

Still: everyone and everything is used to distort the levels of the defensive front and to create better angles for running backs to exploit. Chief among them, a series of trap plays: where a defender is left initially unblocked, allowed to drive into the backfield, then is sealed off by a lineman pulling across the formation.

The angle of a trap block differs from a traditional power play in which a guard pulls. Rather than the lineman getting into position and driving the defender upfield toward his desired location (goal post, hashmark, pylon, sideline), the offense instead teases the defender. A defender’s natural inclinations is used against him. The door is opened briefly. Look, there’s the runner. Go get him! As muscle memory kicks in and the defender shoots his shot, he’s caught upfield, out of his gap assignment, as a lineman appears to come as if from nowhere, sealing off any passage to the runner and leaving a hole in-behind the defender.

Some of these can be slow to develop, particularly when dragging one tackle from one side right across the formation. For Washington, however, the tempo of those designs is a beat quicker than other teams — Williams and Moses are just so damn big and good.

Again, those designs will fall on the interior to hold up their end of the bargain. Fortunately this relies more on will and skill than innate physical traits, something that can be developed with more reps.

Washington should make hay on anything that gets the team’s tackles on the move — quick folds, trap plays, or quick-tosses.

The indecisiveness of Perine and, at times, Thompson, cost the team on quick-developing gap-scheme runs in 2017. Small flickers of space presented themselves. But by the time the backs had inspected things and made their minds up, that door was shut.

It’s a fine margin. Some young backs out-run their blocks. They don’t allow the play to develop, zooming to the spot they’re supposed to before the offensive line has built a wall or carved out a gulley. Sometimes they wait that split second too long.

Perine, in particular, had issues in 2017 out-running slow-developing counter plays. And he often dawdled his way into quick-hitting trap concepts; never really playing to the same tempo as his oft-changing line. (this was particularly true on more basic center-guard traps, where one is essentially displacing the other.)

Expect Guice to take full advantage. Give him a carefully allocated dose of outside-zone and other concepts that keep him engaged, and he’ll be happy to slam the ball upfield, using all of those masterful traits — vision, patience, explosiveness — to turn potential run-game stalemates into big gains:

The former LSU runner will bring burst, energy and, yes, violence to an early down ground attack that lacked all three a year ago. He won’t be much use on third-downs or beyond; he offers little more as a pass-catcher than the odd screen play. But that’s not his role; that’s what the other pieces of the offense are for.

As Washington cycles out of the Gruden-Cousins era into the Gruden-Smith one, a positive run-game that keeps defenders on their toes schematically and physically is a must. This is a diverse run-scheme calling out for a running back with what Liam Neeson would call a particular set of skills.

With that in mind, Guice-to-Washington is as good a rookie-to-team fit as anywhere in the league.