New York Times, How Mike Vrabel Opted for 4 H’s, Not Just X’s and O’s, to Spur Patriots’ Turnaround:

When Mike Vrabel took over with the New England Patriots last spring, what he installed — on both sides of the ball, no less — was complex. The play verbiage was lengthy. There was a lot of ground to cover, especially with a brand-new coaching staff. The roster had also been reconstructed, a mish-mash of players with backgrounds in different schemes.

What Vrabel inherited was a mess. There’s a reason the Patriots won four games in each of the previous two years. So he spent the first part of the offseason overhauling the roster. By the time the players all got together, more than half of them were new.

So most players assumed those first few practices would be an intense examination of the playbook.

But Vrabel had a different plan.

The New England roster was devoid of superstars. (Remember, despite being named to the Pro Bowl as a rookie, Drake Maye was still just a second-year quarterback with three pro wins to his name.) If the Pats were going to win, Vrabel figured, they would have to do it as a team.

So while the rest of the league was talking X’s and O’s, Vrabel opted for something a little more touchy-feely. He told his players they would all take turns telling their teammates about themselves. Vrabel wanted each of them to share his four H’s: hopes, history, heroes and heartbreaks.

The veterans went first. There were a lot of misty eyes. The players opened up in a way professionals often don’t feel comfortable.

“For Vrabel to have the awareness to say, ‘Listen, we’re going to take 45 minutes, and instead of talking ball, we’re going to find out who we are,’ that was so rewarding,” center Garrett Bradbury said. “You play better, you play harder when you know the guys you’re going to war with. So to take some time to know who that was going to be, I think that was so rewarding.” …

[S]everal players said … that helped them during this magical season as they’ve gone from the bottom of the league a year ago to back to the Super Bowl. … In another setting, it could have seemed corny. But the Patriots earnestly bought in and participated.

New York Times, I played QB with Sam Darnold in College. His Perspective Is His Secret Weapon:

Max Browne played quarterback with Sam Darnold for two seasons at USC, in 2015 and 2016.

I was a redshirt sophomore at USC when Sam Darnold showed up in the summer of 2015. … Everyone in [the QB] room knew exactly what they signed up for. When you sign to play quarterback at USC, you are choosing competition on a daily basis. … It was a highly pressurized environment, and every QB I played with at SC had that competitive edge, that chip on their shoulder. Understandably so. I felt that from [starting QB Cody] Kessler, I felt that from myself, I even felt that from the walk-on quarterbacks in the room.

I just never felt it from Sam — even when we competed for the starting job in 2016.

Sam was certainly competitive — he wasn’t there to hold a clipboard or anything — but I never sensed the stress that young quarterbacks are often under. The stress of learning a new playbook. The stress of throwing an interception at practice and becoming gun-shy. That never, ever happened with him. I admired that.

From the time I first met him, he always had perspective. Football never felt like life or death to him, and it allowed him not to be so intense, like the rest of us USC quarterbacks. It allowed him to just play freely. … Sam had an ease and humble confidence about him without even saying a word. …

Ahead of the 2016 season, Sam and I battled for the starting job. To the outside world, it was very much a “me vs. Sam” thing. Between us, on a personal level outside of football, it never felt that way. We always understood the deal. When Sam got the news that I won the starting quarterback job before the season, his temperament didn’t change at all. The very next day, you would have never known. I still felt that ease from him. I admired that, too.

I got benched for Sam after the third game of the season. A couple of weeks went by, and Sam settled into his role as the next great USC quarterback.

Sam and I ran within the same friend circle within the team. My condo had the parties after the games, and one night we had a couple of beverages in our system. I was on the little mezzanine, and I’ll never forget that he gave me a bro hug and told me, “Appreciate the way you’ve handled this. Just know that I think you got screwed, too.”

I don’t share that story because I got screwed or want your pity. That’s not my point. I share it because, a decade later, I still appreciate that comment. It came at the lowest point of my life. I had arrived at USC with huge expectations, then spent years waiting and working for my opportunity. So when I lost the job, I was devastated. It was a lonely chapter in my life. A lot of people around me didn’t know what to say, so they wouldn’t say anything. The fact that the guy who did acknowledge my situation was the very guy living out the other path really cut through, like true friendship often does. He just had a levity about him. …

People ask me sometimes: If you could do one thing over again in your career, what would you do?

My answer oftentimes is: “I wish I had more fun playing football.”

People would tell me that in the moment, but I was never able to fully get myself there. It was always so intense for me. You know, the Mamba mentality. The work. The process. 

When I think about guys who were not that way, Sam is the first one that comes to mind. And I think that’s why Sam never lost himself when things got tough during his first eight years in the NFL. He stayed light and kept perspective. That mindset didn’t just help him survive the challenging times — it propelled him to the Super Bowl.