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Brothahorn

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  1. AUSTIN, Texas — Sweat seeps from Quandre Diggs’ black beanie down to his beard and onto the slightly damp grass at an empty playfield on a scorching summer day just outside of Austin. In between deep breaths and sips from his black water jug, he brags about the rigors of the just-completed 90-minute training session, which has everyone in the group gasping for air and feeling every bit of this Texas heat. “Them Bill Belichick workouts don’t compare to a Nino workout,” Diggs shouts in the direction of the two New England Patriots defensive backs in attendance, Adrian Phillips and Brenden Schooler. “Nino” is Diggs’ self-appointed alter ego, the origins of which are not widely known, even among some folks close to him. That includes but is not limited to his head coach — “Is he a mob boss? I don’t know,” the 71-year-old Pete Carroll said. “It’s got this Italian ring to it.” — and his big brother Quentin Jammer, whose three high-school-aged sons round out the day’s workout crew. “Imagine doing this by yourself,” Nino says, lamenting the days under the summer sun when he and trainer Shaun Rutherford were alone on this field, grinding away with limited breaks between reps. Having training partners here brings Diggs’ personality to life. He can chastise Phillips for not taking his foot off the gas against the teenagers. “P don’t give a damn about the kids,” Diggs hollers. He can call his nephews “Slow-dell Beckham” when they aren’t flowing through a drill fast enough. Or he can enter mentor mode and coach Schooler, a second-year undrafted defender from Texas, on how to maximize the work. “It’s not how fast you do it,” Diggs says as he demonstrates the proper technique during backpedal-and-break drill, “it’s how efficient you do it.” Mixing mentorship with punchlines and name-calling is commonplace for Diggs, a 30-year-old entering his ninth NFL season and fifth with the Seahawks, who rescued him from the Motor City when he was desperately seeking a change of scenery. The Detroit Lions traded Diggs to Seattle for a fifth-round pick midway through the 2019 season, setting the second act of his career in motion. Once an under-the-radar nickelback on an underwhelming Detroit defense, Diggs has blossomed into a three-time Pro Bowler, captain and defensive headliner of a franchise that grew in popularity by employing badass defensive backs. In four years with the Seahawks, Diggs has provided much-needed stability at safety, become the only active player with at least three interceptions in six consecutive seasons, bounced back from a surgically repaired leg, cracked jokes like a comedian, replaced a franchise icon, recruited that same icon back to the team and commanded the respect of teammates and coaches as a leader and a 5-foot-9 ball hawk who drops the hammer like a linebacker. “Whenever he’s the last man on the field, he’s our last line of defense,” Seahawks receiver DK Metcalf says, “everybody sleeps good at night.” Diggs is at the apex of his career as undoubtedly one of the league’s best safeties. Despite fracturing his fibula and dislocating his ankle in the 2021 regular-season finale, he signed a three-year, $39 million free-agent contract two months later to stay with Seattle. Diggs spent the 2022 season replacing Bobby Wagner as the Seahawks’ most prominent defensive voice. He talked trash to anyone within earshot — teammates, coaches, opponents — picked off passes and made his third straight Pro Bowl. Despite those accolades, these early-morning training sessions showcase a man on a mission. Diggs isn’t satisfied with being one of the best safeties in the world — he wants to be known as the top dog. He craves a first-team All-Pro nod the way an aspiring artist craves a record deal. He grunts and groans while flying through defensive back drills, dancing through the agility ladder and cutting and juking cones. Because of the leg fracture, these are movements Diggs couldn’t make this time last year. It took nearly the entire season for him to trust his foot and ankle again. Now he’s pushing himself to be back at his best. “He was turning like a 18-wheeler (last summer),” Phillips says. “Still had a Pro Bowl season. Now he looks like ain’t nothing wrong.” There’s a heavier burden on Diggs’ shoulders this season. He’s the best communicator on a defense that must be much improved to contend for a championship. The Seahawks rely not only on his playmaking but also on his presence. They need his authenticity, aggression and ability to hold others accountable. Inside the Seahawks building, Diggs is a symbol of consistency and the biggest beneficiary of a culture that encourages individuality and self-expression. His personality is embedded in the fabric of the franchise. “He’s the person who keeps everything intact,” says receiver Tyler Lockett, one of Diggs’ best friends, a 2015 draft classmate and the longest-tenured Seahawk. “He’s the person who makes sure that everyone is fulfilling their role at a high level. Quandre Diggs is the backbone of the Seahawks.” With his eyes closed and head bowed, Diggs sits atop his kitchen island and takes himself back to the time he prayed for better days. During the Matt Patricia era in Detroit, Diggs mentally prepared himself for work in the morning by driving without music. He did the same in the evening to decompress. With a 3-month-old daughter, Ariya, he never wanted to bring any bad energy from work to his family. On the evening of Oct. 21, 2019, Diggs was midway through his fifth season with the Lions, rolling his black Ford Raptor in silence as he crossed the Gateway Bridge. Detroit was 2-3-1, loser of its last three games, and the culture Patricia created was wearing on him. He sought greener pastures. “God, why can’t I just go somewhere I can win,” Diggs said aloud, “and enjoy football again?’” Diggs has always loved football. Jammer and the other, much older children on Live Oak Street in Angleton, Texas, used to throw the ball at Diggs as hard they could from 10 feet away, instructing him to catch it. Diggs’ stepfather, Roland Hayes, would work nearly 12-hour days as a truck driver, then come home and honor Diggs’ request to throw the football around for an hour. Diggs’ cousin Jazz Ward would do the same. “We were grooming him to be an athlete,” Jammer says. “It wasn’t just me. It was an entire group of people in Angleton.” Diggs’ passion for the game stems in part from his brother, a college All-American at the University of Texas and the No. 5 pick in the 2002 NFL Draft. Diggs watched as football took Jammer from Angleton to Austin to the pros. Diggs worked to follow that path, starting at Angleton High, then to the Longhorns. Ahead of his senior college season, Diggs implored new head coach Charlie Strong to play only the guys who loved football and were committed to the craft. In the pros, Diggs cried as he was carted off the field at State Farm Stadium in 2021, in part because his leg was facing the wrong direction — but also because he couldn’t finish the game. He didn’t want to disappoint his teammates by being unavailable. “We love football, man,” Jammer says. “That’s how we grew up. That’s what got us out of the gutter.” Diggs didn’t love playing for Patricia. “I was going to work and just dreading work,” Diggs says, climbing down from his countertop for emphasis. It was a drastic cultural pivot from the three years under Jim Caldwell, who spent as much time preaching the value of family and brotherhood as he did the ins and outs of football. “(Caldwell) cared about us as players and as a team,” says Eagles cornerback Darius Slay, one of Diggs’ best friends and former teammate in Detroit. “That made us care about each other more than just football.” Despite his pedigree as a sixth-round pick, Diggs was voted a captain and member of the leadership council in Detroit. But he frequently clashed with Patricia. The Lions’ version of the Patriot Way — no loud music, limited veteran rest, outlawing celebrations and allowing coaches in the locker room instead of giving players their space, among other things — felt toxic, former players said. Lions players used to blast music in the locker room on game days. But under the new staff, they mostly wore headphones. Some players said they felt Patricia tried to verbally “break guys down.” Instead of having input about the game plan, they said they felt muzzled by Patricia’s staff. Being stifled was especially problematic for Diggs. His mother, Jan Hayes, has a reputation as a straight shooter. She always made one thing clear to her baby boy: “Don’t bite your tongue for anybody.” But Diggs and other players said they didn’t have a voice under Patricia. Multiple times Diggs privately addressed issues with the coach, including concerns about player safety after the team practiced in the snow ahead of warm-weather and indoor games. According to Diggs and several other players, Patricia rebuffed Diggs and then, in front of the team, groaned about players worrying about the weather. “One thing about Quandre: If it makes sense, he’s cool with it,” Slay says. “If it don’t make sense, he’s not gonna understand it too well.” Before a game against Cam Newton’s Panthers, Patricia created a video cutup of the MVP-winning quarterback celebrating after touchdowns, an act of showboating Patricia didn’t appreciate. Well, Diggs and his fellow defensive backs appreciated it — so much so that Diggs started dancing in the back of the meeting room. “If you ever saw anybody from Detroit celebrating after something, they knew what was coming after they got to the sideline,” says former Lions nose tackle Damon “Snacks” Harrison. “Quandre and the DBs, they did not care in any way.” During Detroit’s 2018 regular-season finale, a 31-0 thumping of the Packers, Diggs and teammates celebrated and posed for pictures on the sideline, flouting the coach’s rules. On locker cleanout day, Diggs and his teammates used champagne bottles sent by his agency to make mimosas, a toast to the end of a terrible season. Diggs celebrating after an interception against the Lions in the 2018 finale. (Jeff Hanisch / USA Today) Diggs was only months removed from signing a three-year, $18.6 million extension, but it was evident his days in Detroit were numbered. Early in the 2019 season, nearly a month before his prayer during that nighttime drive, Diggs was watching Snapchat stories posted by former Texas teammate Adrian Colbert — then a member of the Seahawks’ practice squad — showing what life was like in Seattle. Music in meetings. Shooting hoops. Good vibes. The grass looked greener. Diggs sent Colbert a text. “That’s the type of place I need to be.” The day after his prayer, Diggs was sleeping with Ariya cradled in his arms when he was awakened by a call from his agent. Diggs boarded a flight to Seattle that night. His prayer had been answered. GO DEEPER Trying to make sense of the Lions’ stunning Quandre Diggs trade Diggs sat in the back of the room during the spring of 2022 as his new position coach, Karl Scott, taught in the Seattle defensive backs’ first formal meeting. Carroll and first-year defensive coordinator Clint Hurtt hired Scott — who coached 14 years in college, including three under Alabama’s Nick Saban — to bring his expertise and attention to detail to a relatively young DB group. Diggs disagreed with something. So he spoke up, which led to a debate with Scott. “It was funny because most guys will just say, ‘OK, that’s what Coach says to do, that’s what we’re going to do,’” Scott says. “But Quandre wanted to know the why.” Scott detailed the why behind this particular assignment. Diggs relaxed his shoulders and agreed with his coach. They’ve been on the same wavelength ever since. That’s the latitude Diggs wasn’t granted in his final 18 months with the Lions, he says. However, it’s exactly what Carroll and general manager John Schneider encouraged when they acquired him. “That’s one of the first things they told me: This is the place you can be yourself,” Diggs recalls. They rattled off a list of the unique personalities they embraced over the years, to which Diggs replied: “All right, if you’re going to let me do that, I’ll do that.” For new players, Seattle’s culture can take time to sink in. The basketball shootouts in the auditorium, rap music at practice and music videos during team meetings cause some to wonder, “Is it really like this every day?” Once it sinks in, players come out of their shells. Diggs cited the early stages of the 2020 season — after good friend Jamal Adams arrived via trade in the summer — as the pivot point. Day by day, Diggs’ personality radiated. He’d talk trash to then-defensive coordinator Ken Norton Jr. and his assistant coaches. He’d open up in VP of player engagement Maurice Kelly’s office, a frequent hangout spot for players. If a teammate made an error, Diggs could correct him in his way. “He has a power in his language,” Carroll says. “He has a power in his perspective. Very similar to Marshawn (Lynch). The guys love him. They just love him. He says something, they do what he says.” But Diggs is also known for supporting teammates, not just calling them out. He regularly uses social media to defend Adams, who has been plagued by injury since arriving in 2020. Harrison joined the Seahawks midway through the pandemic-affected 2020 season because of his relationship with Diggs. Harrison says Diggs kept him motivated, even when he was on the verge of quitting. “I’m forever grateful for him for that,” Harrison says. “The moment I walked in there, everybody was talking about Quandre. … I asked him, ‘What are you doing to these people? Why they all love you like that?’” In Week 4 of 2021, Diggs was asked postgame whether cornerback Sidney Jones blew an assignment that led to a 76-yard touchdown. His reply: “You must think I’m a snitch.” If Metcalf is feeling down, Diggs will listen to him vent while playing video games. Last season, Seattle played five different safeties beside him, and Diggs put in extra work to make sure they were all on the same page. “Counselor, therapist, motivator, cheerleader — he was that for everybody,” Lockett says. Diggs’ voice as a captain last season, Scott says, was “one of the most valuable things we had in the locker room.” Reflecting on Diggs’ first appearance in their meeting room, Scott says, “It was almost like kids at lunchtime in elementary school around a cool kid. They just flocked to him.” Diggs’ nickname stems from Wesley Snipes’ character Nino Brown in the 1991 film “New Jack City.” Diggs was enamored with Brown’s aura, swagger and leadership. These days, Diggs’ aura is what leads the Seahawks. Quandre Diggs, front, and Patriots defensive back Adrian Phillips training in Austin, Texas. (Michael-Shawn Dugar / The Athletic) This environment has brought out the best in Diggs. In Seattle, he can joke in meetings, argue with assistants at practice and showboat after interceptions without fear of retribution. It has led to the best stretch of his career. And when Diggs is at his best, it forces everyone else to elevate their game, coaches included. “We’re an extension of him on the sideline,” Scott says. “That’s the kind of presence he brings. His understanding of the game, his IQ of the game … He’s a pro. He wakes up and owns his stuff.” As Lockett and Diggs kick back in Diggs’ living room after 15 holes of golf at a private course in South Austin, they can laugh at the alarmingly low Relative Athletic Score of 2.23 out of 10 that Seattle’s star safety posted before the 2015 draft. Lockett (Kansas State) and Diggs (Texas) played against each other three times in college, formed a friendship and were inseparable during pre-draft training. Eight years later, they’ve both signed three multimillion-dollar NFL contracts and are regarded as premier talents at their positions. But draft night for Diggs was no laughing matter. He was angry it took 200 picks before he heard his name called. During the draft party at their mother’s house, Jammer — two years removed from his NFL career — looked at his little brother and delivered a message. “You got a foot in the door, go kick that motherf—er down,” Jammer recalls. “That’s exactly what he’s done: kicked it down.” That draft night exchange illustrates the uniqueness of Diggs’ NFL existence. He’s the younger brother of a 12-year NFL veteran, was groomed to be an athlete and learned up close what it took to make and survive the NFL. Many aren’t granted that opportunity. However, Diggs views himself as an underdog. He needed an endorsement from then-offensive coordinator Major Applewhite — Jammer’s college roommate — for Texas to seriously consider recruiting him because he was undersized. Diggs also remembers which draft analysts deemed him worthy of only special teams. And the folks who felt he was too small or unathletic. Since moving to safety in 2018, he’s been a Pro Bowler or alternate each season but never first-team All-Pro. In ESPN’s recent ranking of the league’s best safeties, Diggs was not in the top 10. He wasn’t shy about addressing it. “I take everything as a grudge. All that stuff always sticks with me,” Diggs says. “I always think about that. That’s one of the reasons I go so hard, even in the offseason.” Diggs is 5-9 and south of 200 pounds but carries himself like a giant. He calls nearly everyone close to him “little man” and is no stranger to challenging anyone to a fight. Some of his friendships were birthed from butting heads. In 2012, Diggs got into a war of words with Geno Smith when Texas played West Virginia. “Going up against Nino, I had a chip on my shoulder, but he’s always had that chip, too,” Smith says. “He was barking at me, man.” They still go at it in practice and bring the best out of each other. “When I was the scout team quarterback, it made me better because I would make it my duty not to throw it to him because I knew he’d talk to me all throughout lunch,” Smith said. “He’d be at me all the next day.” The way Diggs and Lockett verbally clashed when Texas played Kansas State in 2013, you’d think they hated each other. By the next matchup as seniors, they were making plans to train together in the offseason. They’ve been best friends ever since and were in each other’s weddings this offseason. Diggs’ spirit resembles some of the magic Seattle captured when it had the Legion of Boom, led by late-round picks with something to prove and a lot to say. Carroll loves the way he will “knock the fire out of you” in run support. Smith joyously recalls having a front-row seat to Diggs drilling Vikings tight end Irv Smith in 2019. Diggs embodies all that Seattle looks for in a leader on defense: someone who talks the talk and backs it up. “He’s a fierce competitor on the field, and you won’t know it just by looking at him,” Metcalf said, “but when you line up against him, you’ll feel it. He’s a dog.” Diggs grew up following the footsteps of Jammer, a legendary figure at their high school and college alma maters. In Seattle, he is the successor to potential Hall of Fame safety Earl Thomas. Last season, Diggs had to fill the void left by Wagner. Throughout his career, there’s always been a standard to uphold, and Diggs has worked to answer the call. Along the way, he’s been motivated by upholding those standards — and creating a name for himself. He succeeded by maintaining the passion for the game developed as a kid on Live Oak Street. By carrying himself with the candor he inherited from his mother. By talking smack and smacking his opponents. By using his voice to set the tone. On the walls inside that same meeting room where he first spoke his mind to Scott is a running history of Seattle’s dominant defensive backs. The Pro Bowlers. The All-Pros. The current and future Hall of Famers. Diggs’ resume speaks volumes in that room. Slowly but surely, he is becoming the standard. “He’s going to leave a legacy here,” Scott says. “When it’s all said and done, Quandre Diggs is going to be one we remember walked through these hallways.” https://theathletic.com/4672851/2023/07/27/quandre-diggs-seahawks-lions/
  2. Sounds like a fun job. When you say fringe, do you mean like a journey qb type? Like a guy who makes $1.1 million or something for 8-9 years? Or a guy who is bad with money or lives in an expensive city?
  3. The old people on my family will ask you how much they owe you. And after you tell them, they will remind you how much you owe them! Okay, so why did you ask me about your bill 3x, if you had no plans to pay it?
  4. A month from now, there will be college football!! Don't care if my math is a lil fuzzy!!!!
  5. My mom is a stalker. She will call me and keep calling until I answer the phone. One Saturday she called me 11x in 3 hours. And she always leaves the same message, "You could answer your damn phone." But when I call her back, she can't remember what she wanted! And it doesn't matter if I'm at work or on my death bed, if I say I need to go her response is " There was something else I needed to tell you but I can't remember." Which extends the conversation to 5-10 more minutes. Oh yeah, we got the old bank statements and canceled checks from the early 2000s, hell probably some from when I was in school(early 90's). And it's always the same thing. "I need to go through that stuff, so I can burn it."
  6. Allen and Williams will miss at least 4 games each. Two of those will be at the same time.
  7. Same reason they put the age limit in. Because they have to be protected from themselves. Also, can we finally start talking about how Brad Stevens is kinda over hyped?
  8. Sounds like something Leveon Bell would say.
  9. Dewey Crowe never got the credit he deserved.
  10. They should bring the Comets back. That 4 year stretch where they dominated is right up there with the Celts, Lakers, and Bulls.
  11. True..until it really matters.
  12. Whaaaa? Bird and Steph are going to kill you outside. Which will open the middle for Wade. Then you got PnR for Malone with all 3 of those of those guys. And Hakeem will just do Hakeem things. Malone, Wade and Olajuwon are pretty good defenders too. Hard to bet against MJ, but Team 4 could pull it off.
  13. Man, if you called me a negro, I would know that you are retarded. Because that would be one of the dumbest attempts at an insult I have ever heard.
  14. My sister had Down Syndrome, and technically, she was retarded. But I never had a problem using it or hearing it used to describe someone who said or did something dumb/stupid. Because my sister damn sure wasn't dumb. She taught me quite a few times that just because she was slow, it didn't mean she was a fool. Not everyone who has/had a special needs family member is offended by simple words. So if you want to use it, use it. If you don't like hearing it, then so be it. Add it to the list of other things you didn't like that day. Either way it don't a shit. Live your life.
  15. Not even stuffed. Just a pickle tied to a chicken breast with some string. Lazy.
  16. Your story reminds me of the when we moved to the country. There was no running water in the house. So, while that was being fixed, every morning I had to catch water. When it was bath time, I would have to catch enough for 4 people in the foot tubs. Then cover the tub with plastic so the damn grass hoppers wouldn't get in. Then, later on, we had a calf who couldn't suck because her momma tit got too big. So first we started off with the big ass baby bottle, then we moved to the bucket with the nipple. She would conveniently knock it off the fence if I didn't watch her. And if it didn't matter how hungry she was, I still had to catch her ass every morning.
  17. And while he was harassing you, someone walked out with a 55" TV.
  18. Because it causes non-WNBA people to talk about it. Those ladies are good at what they do. But it's ridiculous that they always have to roach off the NBA to get attention.
  19. They would have made me ride in the back of the trail.
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