The original Greatest Show scheme, which was born while Martz was the Rams quarterback coach and wide receiver coach, was his own take on an old Don Coryell system. So it's a taxonomic descendent of Air Coryell as well as a spiritual one—relentless and vertical in a way Bill Walsh's bastard stunted version never was. The turf show thrived on five wide, spreading the secondary and ensuring man coverage somewhere. Backfield in motion, to confuse the defense with a variety of looks. A capable, veteran offensive line, to give the deep threats time to get sprung.
It's not complicated stuff, but the sheer number of route permutations means everyone needs to have their playbook down pat. Those Rams, not least of them the coldblooded Kurt Warner, were a rare assemblage of specialized cogs. Perhaps more so than most schemes, Martz's baby needs a very specific environment to thrive. (If you're wondering why he's retiring now, read a wholly depressing account of Martz explaining that the Bears would never ask Caleb Hanie to do "that St. Louis kind of stuff.") It allows for and requires a whole arsenal of offensive weapons, most of them available on any given play. The height advantage receiver. The speedster. The crafty white guy with good hands. The shifty pass-catching running back. The dangerous tight end. The transcendent quarterback. And, inevitably, a woeful defense, its weaknesses hidden behind turnover numbers inflated by opponents desperately trying to catch up. Green Bay, New Orleans. And New England, where Bill Belichick remains almost in awe of Don Coryell.