I’ll take a rookie under my wing for their first game day. They’re probably nervous as hell and about ready to explode. But there’ll be no fuss, no mollycoddling. They’re on the team, they’re in the locker room, I’ll treat them as one of us. Get the pads on, let the fans roll in and tell them to put in the performance of a lifetime for their debut. However the game goes, whatever the score at the end, they’ll come out stronger from this crucible of fire.
Afterwards, I’ll invite the whole defensive unit back to my place for dinner. We’ll have a huge roast and eat well, celebrating the win or sulking in our loss. But the training never stops, the dinner is actually a disguise for film study. We go over the game, we point out every mistake the rookie makes, every false step, every missed tackle, every millisecond of hesitation. We’ll show the young hotshots that they still have a long way to go. And then I’ll point out their good technique, their moments of decisiveness and action, every single moment where they defined a play. We will show them how far they’ve already come. More than anything, I want to reinforce in the rookie, the desire to be better. To be faster than he was before, stronger than he’s ever been, and smarter than everyone else. That’s what it means to teach a rookie, that’s what I’ll have to do.
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