Over your career, what makes a team better at not turning the ball over as the season goes along? What kind of things you need to emphasize? How much of it is coaching? How much of it is a mental part? Physical part?
Ah, the battle against turnovers—a constant challenge, yet one that can be won with discipline, focus, and a commitment to improvement. Over my career, I have learned that a team becomes better at protecting the ball through a combination of preparation, mindset, and execution.
First, let us speak of coaching. The foundation is laid in practice, where we emphasize fundamentals above all else. Quarterbacks must learn to trust their progressions, running backs to secure the ball with both hands through contact, and receivers to tuck it away the moment it is caught. Defenders are taught to protect the ball in moments of transition, should they intercept or recover. Repetition breeds muscle memory, and muscle memory breeds success.
But turnovers are not solely a physical matter; they are deeply mental as well. The ability to protect the ball is tied to decision-making and composure. A quarterback must understand when to take a sack rather than force a throw, and a ball carrier must know when to fight for extra yards versus when to go down. These decisions are cultivated by building trust—trust in the system, in teammates, and in oneself.
The physical aspect cannot be overlooked, of course. Ball security is a skill, just like blocking or tackling. Strengthening grip, improving pocket awareness, and refining technique all play their part. Footwork, vision, and body positioning determine whether a defender has the angle to strip the ball or whether an offensive player avoids that fate.
Finally, we emphasize accountability. Turnovers are not random acts of fate—they are moments where focus lapses or fundamentals fail. We review every instance with clarity and truth, not to assign blame but to learn and grow.
A team improves at avoiding turnovers when every player, coach, and unit embraces the importance of protecting the ball as sacred. It is the difference between a possession ending with glory or regret. As the season goes on, the focus must not waver, for those who value the ball above all else shall be the ones who emerge victorious. Amen.
How quickly can you tell if a young player is a football player if he thinks about it because it seems like at the Combine they’re all saying the right thing and it’s the job. How quickly does it take?
Ah, the question of discernment—how to know if a young player truly has the heart and mind for football. It is one thing to speak the right words at the Combine, where everyone is polished and rehearsed, but it is another thing entirely to show it on the field, in the meeting room, and in the quiet moments when no one is watching.
In my experience, you can often tell quite quickly. Football is not just a job—it is a calling. It reveals itself in the way a young player carries himself in the small details: how he attacks a drill, how he studies film, how he responds to failure. The truly special ones embrace the grind, showing a relentless hunger to improve.
During practice, their movements are purposeful, their energy infectious. In meetings, their questions are thoughtful, and their eyes are focused. And in games, even when the moment is too big for their skills to fully match, you see their will to compete.
But it is not just physical talent that defines a football player—it is the mindset. You learn quickly whether a young player thrives under pressure or wilts, whether he takes coaching as criticism or as a gift. A true football player does not shy away from the hard moments; he rises to them, because he knows this game requires more than skill. It demands sacrifice, passion, and resilience.
Yes, at the Combine, they may all say the right things. But once the pads are on, the truth is revealed. Some come for the paycheck, others for the glory—but the real football players? They come for the love of the game and the bond of the team. That, my friend, is something you cannot fake, and it is revealed faster than one might think. Amen.
Are you seeing the speed of the game starting to slow down for some of the rookies?
Ah, the speed of the game—one of the greatest adjustments a rookie must make. For many, the transition from college to the professional level is like stepping into a storm, where everything moves faster, hits harder, and demands more precision. But yes, I am beginning to see the game slow down for some of our rookies, and that is a sign of their growth and readiness.
Take someone like Jaedyn Lukus, for example. Early on, he was relying on his athleticism, which is remarkable in its own right. But now, you can see his anticipation improving. He’s trusting his instincts, reading the quarterback’s eyes, and breaking on the ball before the pass is even thrown. That’s the game slowing down—it’s no longer chaos, but a series of opportunities.
Or consider Brenan Thompson. At first, his routes were run with sheer speed, but now, there’s a rhythm to his movements. He’s reading coverage, adjusting mid-route, and timing his breaks with precision. He’s no longer reacting to the defense—he’s dictating to it.
This transformation is both mental and physical. Mentally, the rookies are starting to recognize patterns faster, processing information in real-time without hesitation. Physically, their conditioning and technique are catching up to the demands of the professional game.
It’s a beautiful thing to witness—a young player who once struggled to keep pace now thriving because the storm is no longer overwhelming. The game will continue to slow for them as they trust their preparation and lean into their talent. And when the storm slows, my friend, that is when greatness begins to shine. Amen.
