Play Like You Mean It: Passion, Laughs, and Leadership in the World's Most Beautiful Game Read Online Free PDF

learn how they react to criticism. Everyone is different in that area, too. For instance, Bart Scott is a player I can dog-cuss up and down, all day Sunday, and it doesn’t bother him a bit—goes right off his back. But a guy like Shaun Ellis, well, I might have to be more careful, because he reacts differently to criticism. I simply can’t coach every player the same. Even from a teaching standpoint, there’s a difference. Safety Jim Leonhard, from Wisconsin of all places, is a smart dude. Way smarter than me, but that’s not saying much. He can flip through the playbooks and say, “Okay, I got it.” And, bingo, he does. It’s amazing. But not every player’s Einstein. We implement a variety of teaching tools to help players learn our defense—video, meetings, PowerPoint presentations, walk-throughs before and after practice. We might have more walk-throughs than any team in the NFL, but that’s okay. It’s our job as coaches to understand how guys learn the best. This is a get-it-done business, and we want to get it done—and get it done correctly.
    Our approach is different than most teams’, too. We install our defense as a full group, which means every player on defense is in that room. It’s the assistant coaches’ job to separate into their respective segments and coach the individual parts. It’s as if everyone is responsible for a piece of the puzzle, but everyone is responsible to know the entire puzzle. I want our defensive backs to know what theD-line is doing; I want the D-line to know what the defensive backs are doing. I will stand in our defense meetings and ask the cornerbacks what the nose guards’ responsibilities are in a certain package. I will ask the linebackers what the defensive ends’ job is on a certain blitz formation. It makes sense to me, because that approach creates team chemistry. Nobody wants to be the weak link. My intention isn’t to embarrass a player in meetings, but I want our guys to know they are held accountable. It’s a different deal, because we watch game film as an entire defensive unit; players don’t break into their respective position segments. Nobody can hide. If we repeatedly correct a player in front of his peers, one of two things is going to happen. He will get it right, or he will be gone.
    When I was with Baltimore, Brian Billick said when a coach emphasized everything, he emphasized nothing. There are coaches in the NFL who overcoach, no question. I coached with a guy in Baltimore who each week passed out a huge packet of tips and reminders to his players. I mean, it was thick, 20 pages or so, and it had all the information he wanted his players to review about Sunday’s opponent. That’s overload. Each game when Mike Pettine passes out his tips and reminders, it’s one or two pages, max. One side is on our defensive scheme; the other side is on our opponent’s offense. We test the guys, because we want to get a feel and make sure our guys understand our plan. I am also not afraid to keep it simple, stupid.
    When we play Tennessee, for example, we might want to remind our linebackers that they need to set the edge: No way can we let Tennessee running back Chris Johnson get to the outside—set the edge and turn him inside. I am a bullet-point coach, too. We are in the NFL and these players are the best of the best. I am not going to stand in front of them in a meeting and act like the Swing Doctor in golf: “Step here, wrap your thumb around the club, lock your hips, roll your hips, head down, follow through.” That’s not me. Sometimes I simply challenge my guys to line up and whip the other guy’s ass across from them on the line of scrimmage. Fans might shit because we might make millions and millions of dollars as playersand coaches, but sometimes it’s that simple. Let’s kick somebody’s ass and make a big hit.
    We give our players our game plan, give them the concept of how we want it run, and we let them fail or succeed. If they