07-22-2020, 10:06 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-22-2020, 10:07 AM by piratecaptaindom.)
Crozier McCoy, on being asked who he considers a competitor his first year of the draft:
"I'm competitive against other players in my football class." McCoy comments, nodding as he thinks. "I've met a couple OL dudes from this draft class. I don't care about the other DL, I know I'm gonna do better than them, and we don't even compete directly - I just see them as people to help me achieve my goal. In terms of rookie OL, Marlon Alexander catches my mind first. The dude has this shit-eating grin when you talk to him. I wanna smash his shit in. I won't consider myself successful until I beat him on a pass rush. Motherfucker's strong, too, he's knocked me on my ass in a couple of scrimmages. I can't wait until I play him for real. The football field determines the real winner."
"As for the rest of the OL rooks, Marlon is the only decent competition. Dudes like Connor Quigley? Ninton Quelson? Ananda Adyan? Weaksauce. They don't work as hard as me, they aren't as fast as me, and they aren't as strong as me. I'm gonna blow past them. You could call it a 'rivalry', but the only competition when I play those guys is how long the quarterback can run away from me." Crozier lets out a laugh, which sounds more like a giant from a fantasy novel than a human's laugh.
"I think that is what I like about being a DE so much," the edge adds while changing the topic slightly, "That's what we're all about. Cornerbacks and QBs always talk so much about being smart, outthinking and outplanning your opponent. Watching hours of tape to study tendencies. Well, OL, I'll tell you my tendencies now: I run fast and I fucking shove you out of the way. There's no mind games. There's technique, sure, but the winner is the one that wins that shoving match."
"I don't need to win every fight, either. You can stop me a couple times, but it starts to wear down. Those legs and arms start to get worn out when full-fucking-force of 300 pounds hits you at full speed, every game, every snap. The conditioning doesn't last forever. Unless, of course, you're me. I get faster, stronger as the game goes on. I wear you down, then I speed up. I get the first step on you more and more, and then suddenly I've got one, two, three hits on the QB. You can stop me 58 times in a row, but I only need to get to that ball once to really fucking wreck a drive, and five times to ruin your fucking night."
"So talk about smarts and tendencies all you want, but in the end, it's the trenches. It's me building up my grand finale - that's all it is. Slowly building up the attrition, getting forward one step, one snap. The music builds up. I spend my whole game waiting for this moment. And when the sound is the loudest - you've hit it. The climax. You get to hit that stupid fuckin' ball thrower in the face, over and over and over again. When I get my hands on that quarterback, it's over. And no form of gameplan can stop that. That's what being a DL is all about. The grand-fucking-finale of pain."
"I'm competitive against other players in my football class." McCoy comments, nodding as he thinks. "I've met a couple OL dudes from this draft class. I don't care about the other DL, I know I'm gonna do better than them, and we don't even compete directly - I just see them as people to help me achieve my goal. In terms of rookie OL, Marlon Alexander catches my mind first. The dude has this shit-eating grin when you talk to him. I wanna smash his shit in. I won't consider myself successful until I beat him on a pass rush. Motherfucker's strong, too, he's knocked me on my ass in a couple of scrimmages. I can't wait until I play him for real. The football field determines the real winner."
"As for the rest of the OL rooks, Marlon is the only decent competition. Dudes like Connor Quigley? Ninton Quelson? Ananda Adyan? Weaksauce. They don't work as hard as me, they aren't as fast as me, and they aren't as strong as me. I'm gonna blow past them. You could call it a 'rivalry', but the only competition when I play those guys is how long the quarterback can run away from me." Crozier lets out a laugh, which sounds more like a giant from a fantasy novel than a human's laugh.
"I think that is what I like about being a DE so much," the edge adds while changing the topic slightly, "That's what we're all about. Cornerbacks and QBs always talk so much about being smart, outthinking and outplanning your opponent. Watching hours of tape to study tendencies. Well, OL, I'll tell you my tendencies now: I run fast and I fucking shove you out of the way. There's no mind games. There's technique, sure, but the winner is the one that wins that shoving match."
"I don't need to win every fight, either. You can stop me a couple times, but it starts to wear down. Those legs and arms start to get worn out when full-fucking-force of 300 pounds hits you at full speed, every game, every snap. The conditioning doesn't last forever. Unless, of course, you're me. I get faster, stronger as the game goes on. I wear you down, then I speed up. I get the first step on you more and more, and then suddenly I've got one, two, three hits on the QB. You can stop me 58 times in a row, but I only need to get to that ball once to really fucking wreck a drive, and five times to ruin your fucking night."
"So talk about smarts and tendencies all you want, but in the end, it's the trenches. It's me building up my grand finale - that's all it is. Slowly building up the attrition, getting forward one step, one snap. The music builds up. I spend my whole game waiting for this moment. And when the sound is the loudest - you've hit it. The climax. You get to hit that stupid fuckin' ball thrower in the face, over and over and over again. When I get my hands on that quarterback, it's over. And no form of gameplan can stop that. That's what being a DL is all about. The grand-fucking-finale of pain."