Best of The Herd

It’s Wednesday, it’s Super Bowl week, we’re live in Los Angeles, and I’m in my big‑game mode with a notepad and a take: when a team is broken, the fix is leadership that doesn’t duck conflict. Think Vrabel, Harbaugh, Payton, Ben Johnson—different styles, same willingness to demand, not ask. That’s why I never bought the idea that charm alone wins rooms; the greats push you, even uncomfortably, and that edge matters in a violent, precise sport.

On legacy stakes, there’s really one player whose story can swing hard in this game: Sam Darnold. Fair or not, interceptions hit his headline differently than Drake May’s. He was nearly flawless against the Rams, but one late mistake here and the narrative snaps back. Win it, and it’s not a new chapter—it’s a new book.

I see a low‑scoring grind and the total keeps dropping. The worry is whether New England’s offense can do anything against a fast, nickel‑heavy Seattle defense.

A coach I trust in the AFC thinks New England’s going to have real trouble blocking Seattle’s front. I’m expecting a cautious first quarter from both sides, field goals over fireworks, and special teams swinging a key sequence, which leans Seattle.

Seattle doesn’t have one terror off the edge so much as waves and disguised pressure. The question is if Sam slides back into old habits under heat.

If you bracket JSN, Seattle still has pieces, and New England won’t hang Drake May out early. This feels like two great defenses, shaky lines, capable but mistake‑prone quarterbacks, and a chessy, between‑the‑30s game.

My annual board: Seattle has more of the very top guys. I’ve got JSN as the most dangerous player on the field, Witherspoon not far behind, Kenneth Walker as the tackle‑breaker who tilts drives, Darnold and May both in that next tier, plus Diggs, a rising rookie safety, and New England’s interior anchors like Onwenu. Edge Seattle on star count, but I’m still calling a 23–20 New England win.

Against a defense that flies like Seattle or Houston, you use their speed against them—misdirection, traps, screens. Josh McDaniels is elite in the screen game. These rosters mirror each other, but youth brings both juice and mistakes, and Vrabel will pound the underdog drum for two straight weeks. I like the Pats ugly.

The thread through my two Super Bowl wins was preparation and calm. With Belichick and then in Philly, we found our normal fast, believed in the plan, and practiced clean. That’s where New England’s experience—Vrabel as a player, McDaniels as a play‑caller—can matter.

People forgot New England led the league in big plays for stretches and played in snow and against elite defenses down the stretch. Seattle’s Rams shootouts skew perception too. Do you still see a talent gap toward Seattle?

Seattle has more good players, but if you like New England, you’re picking coach and quarterback. The Pats hunted explosives even in bad weather and have gone through a gauntlet of top five defenses. Explosive plays will decide this, and you can’t discount the path they took to get here.

New England’s region loves a chip on the shoulder—quiet wealth, low flash, trophy over headlines. Being the underdog fits the brand.

They love a common enemy, and that us‑against‑the‑world thing is powerful. There’s no juggernaut this year. Underdog energy travels, and I still lean low scoring.

First Super Bowl series—what sticks?

It’s a blur of sounds and smells. In New England we started horribly, I barely saw the field early, and on my first third down I chipped a bone in my knee. Adrenaline carried me, and the whole week to the parade disappears if you don’t stop to take mental pictures.

When a team’s broken, leadership has to embrace confrontation. That’s Vrabel—authentic, direct, no grudges. Does his playing background matter in that room?

It helps, but the key is that he’s real. Players feel it when it’s performative. Vrabel is a truth‑teller, like Belichick at his best, and that honesty cuts through personal politics. Hiring him was one of the smartest moves this decade.

After the season I moved around at the Pro Bowl and felt good. That first real workout back is always the test, and it made me excited to start training.

You saw Seattle three times. What makes that defense so tough?

They play complete team defense. The rush and coverage are tied together, the linebackers trigger fast, and they swarm. You can’t make detail errors against that group.

You’ve been teammates with Sam Darnold in two spots. What’s the real Sam?

He’s a dude. The arm talent jumps, he’s more athletic than people think, and he does his job without excuses. He’s taken hits in this league and kept showing up, lifted teams to the postseason, and never pointed fingers. He’s one of my best friends and a big‑time player.

First Super Bowl settings can rattle young rosters. Does Seattle’s youth worry you?

Youth can be a crutch or a superpower. We leaned on vets for handling the week, but once it kicks off it’s just football. Manage distractions, execute, and it evens out.

JSN keeps one speed into and out of breaks. What stands out to you?

He’s got the whole package—speed, strength, quicks, hands, YAC—and that steady pad level makes him hard to read. Even when he’s covered, he isn’t.

A lot of people think I’m tough on Brock Purdy. Did you see this level coming?

I knew he’d be good, not this good. From day one he attacked the details, had urgency, and carried a chip the right way. Calm, confident, and a killer when it’s time. I couldn’t be happier he’s our quarterback.

He shrugs off picks and keeps swinging, which I love. Alright, maybe I’m turning the corner here. Let’s keep it rolling.