Richard Sherman Podcast - Charles Woodson talks GOAT DB debate, Raiders dominance & Packers Super Bowl

Welcome back—today’s a treat: Heisman winner, NCAA champ, Super Bowl champ, first-ballot Hall of Famer Charles Woodson is here; Champ Bailey just called you the best, and I agree—how does that land with you?

It’s humbling, especially from peers who lived it; I watched Champ like he watched me, and while I only ever cared about winning a Super Bowl, I wanted to impact every inch of the field—cover, blitz, tackle, and change games.

You took the ball to the house as well as anyone; take us back—Ohio kid choosing Michigan—why not the school down south?

Where I grew up, that rivalry was everything, and my older brother loved the winged helmet; from the time I was a kid, Michigan felt like home, so Ohio State was never really an option.

Big brothers shape us; you were recruited at running back almost everywhere—could’ve gone Golden Dome—but?

Notre Dame wasn’t my vibe, and knee issues in high school told me running back wouldn’t last; I called Michigan and said I’m playing defense, even after a two-thousand-yard senior year.

Then you win the Heisman while dabbling on offense—what was two-way life like in Ann Arbor?

I earned a starting spot fast, made my name on defense, and after we lost some stars I asked to sprinkle in at receiver; only a handful of catches, but they hit big, the Heisman race was a sprint all year, and the Big House energy was unreal.

I transitioned from receiver and still remember you texting me slot tips and leverage checks; I was living off route recognition the way you preached it.

Same here—I wasn’t a lab-perfect technician either; Vance Bedford pushed me, but my edge was understanding intent, playing leverage, and finding the ball.

Draft day drops you into Raider Nation—what was that culture really like?

The stadium had flaws, but the atmosphere was pure electricity, and legends like Willie Brown, Biletnikoff, and Mike Haynes were around daily; Willie nudged me into 24, and I fell hard for the silver-and-black mystique.

Who helped you grow from elite college player to true pro?

Eric Turner took me under his wing and even schooled me on travel-game swagger; Eric Allen taught disguise, Tim Brown sharpened me with nuanced routes, and James Jett’s speed kept me honest—those vets shaped my game.

Favorite division rival during your Raider years?

Everyone felt like a rival, but my welcome-to-the-league was Sunday night at Arrowhead—Andre Rison lulled me then took the top off; lesson learned in a hurry.

Walk us through that 2002 run to the Super Bowl and what derailed it.

We’d been building—Ravens in the title game, then the tuck rule the next year—by 2002 we were loaded, but I broke my shoulder, later fractured my leg, got a plate in before the playoffs, and we still beat the Jets and Titans; with no extra week, our Pro Bowl center’s last-minute situation hit hard, Tampa capitalized, and we ran out of time.

Then a whole new world—Green Bay—did it feel like college again?

Lambeau sits in a neighborhood, fans literally feel like owners, and the Lombardi legacy is everywhere; seven seasons there and a Super Bowl 45 ring—I’m grateful for it all.

Year eleven you’re Defensive Player of the Year and it looked like you were in the huddle with offenses—what clicked?

They moved me around—corner, nickel, blitz—so I could dictate terms; film let me anticipate, the ball kept finding me, and even then I lost sleep over the ones I dropped.

People ding zone or not following top receivers, but following only works if everyone else wins too; I preferred owning a side, leveraging help, and stealing the deep shot, and you also told me to hunt the ball when tackling.

I always attacked the ball first, raked it, then secured the tackle—three steps in one motion—because nobody’s strolling back to the sideline holding it easy.

How do you play eighteen seasons—what should young guys do?

You’ve got to truly want it, get a little lucky with injuries, and most of all make plays; work hard, study hard, and take the ball if you want to stick.

Corners today are elite, but interceptions are down—why?

Mindset—don’t just prevent, take; turn and find the ball instead of panicking, and aim for great plays, not safe ones—I even baited throws because I wanted picks, and that’s how you end up with numbers like sixty-five and still rack sacks.

I told a college coach the secret to picks is simple—stop batting and catch them.

We practiced interceptions on everything—walkthroughs, seven-on-seven—until it became habit, and it spread to Tramon and Sam; that’s how we stacked those huge team INT totals.

Give me your top corners and the traits you’d build into the perfect DB.

Instincts, no panic, game speed, leverage, toughness, and catch the ball; as for names, start with Deion, Rod, myself, and Champ, with Aeneas, Darrell Green, Revis, Ty Law—and yes, you—right there in the mix.

You shaped my game—above the shoulders first—and I still laugh that the slot was not my happy place.

Inside you’re basically a small backer wrestling guards and tight ends—different world in there.

I was nervous asking for your jersey, but you were cool; it’s still hanging up.

I’m old-school on swaps—especially after losses—but the game’s changed and guys treat it different now.

Whole era’s different—seven-on-seven hype and five-star culture everywhere.

Before we go, Seattle and Bellevue, hit Sherman’s spot, Legion; and check out my Woodson Whiskey and Intercept Wine—we’re coming to pour one up with you.

Appreciate you coming on, brother. Hope you and the boys are good, and the whole family too. I’m pulling for that Michigan trip—even if the dad in you wants to act like it’s no big deal. We’ll wrap here and catch you next time.

For sure. It’s a wild and exciting spot for him, and I’m proud he’s got real choices. I’d love to see him in maize and blue, but it’s his decision and I’ll honor it. We’ll see where he lands.