Dave Boling: Pete Carroll bucked NFL convention and found success his own way in 14 seasons with Seahawks
I’ve never been more wrong about a coach than Pete Carroll.
He hadn’t shown great promise in two previous NFL head coaching jobs, and his massive success at USC seemed a showcase for his public-relations and recruiting skills. And even then, the NCAA gumshoes were sniffing around those talents.
I wondered in print, in January 2010, if the Seahawks were buying a glossy package, all veneer without enough substance? Everybody knows that it’s the kind of stuff that won’t fly in the NFL.
Yeah, I was a fool.
For the past 14 seasons, Carroll was a joy to cover. But it’s more than that: The man is inspirational in his positivity and energy – all of which is far more genuine and unrelenting than seemed possible.
He was so successful in doing things his way – creating a culture of his own innovation and design – that he managed to change what was expected of a typical totalitarian NFL head coach.
He proved a team can win and have fun, and melded new-age player relationships with old-school football values. Run the ball and defend. Toughness cherished at all costs. And, reflected by the motto plastered all over the headquarters for every employee to see: Always compete.
Two Super Bowl appearances and his division titles will be some of the important accounting regarding his career. Pete Carroll created new levels of acceptable success. And then he failed to meet the expectations he had created.
The way the division passed by the Seahawks in the past few seasons, and the weaknesses that went unresolved, led to his losing his position as head coach. It’s a firing, of course, but in an appropriately respectful and gentle way.
Apparently, he’s going to be moved into a different role within the franchise. He has great skills in the area of community involvement, which has been an offseason interest for him for decades. Perhaps he’ll plunge deeper into those waters.
The root of his genius on the field was his capacity to recognize special talents, along with the willingness to reshape the traditional personnel boxes to best fit those players’ greatest talents.
With a fifth-round draft pick, he took a safety who was a little too big and maybe not quite fast enough, and found a role for him. He became Kam Chancellor.
A former Stanford receiver without much defensive experience became Richard Sherman. A troublesome castaway running back found new life in the league. Marshawn Lynch.
He gave a third-round rookie quarterback a real chance to compete for the starting job against an expensive free agent they’d just acquired. That open door resulted in the emergence of Russell Wilson.
I poured through some of the stories over the years for quotes from players and colleagues for deeper insights into Carroll’s philosophies and strengths.
From former offensive line coach Tom Cable: “So many times in this job, this world, we battle fear – Pete’s not that way. He’s had his butt kicked, he’s been on the street, but he’s worked through his philosophy and implemented it and shown that you can build a culture that is positive and is about teaching and mentoring.”
Few Seahawks over the years have been more frank and insightful than defensive lineman Michael Bennett. In 2016, I asked him to explain Carroll.
“What makes Pete Carroll different from any other coach is he understands the moment. A lot of coaches have philosophies, (but) it doesn’t mean anything because they don’t win games. When you have a coach that’s really won, people buy in a lot faster because he knows what he’s talking about.”
Also Bennett: “Coach Carroll does a great job of (exploring players’ potential). He has elevated the mindset of people to understand that there’s more in them, and they can be greater.”
Carroll’s competitiveness is so legendary, former linebacker Lofa Tatupu once tried to capture it. “He’s so competitive that he hates to lose the (pregame) coin flip. If he thought there was any way he could make it more than a 50-50 proposition every time, he’d start researching it to try to get an edge.”
A month or so after Carroll was hired by the Hawks, I started making background calls, to learn more about him, away from the game. It’s how I first realized there was far greater depth and substance than was widely known.
It turned out that his work in the Los Angeles community had grown to the point where, without television cameras or reporters in tow, he would go into rough areas with L.A. County Sheriff’s officers to try to make a difference in the lives of troubled kids.
One officer said Carroll’s influence had helped “save lives.” Another said, “That man is my hero, and trust me, I don’t have that many.” These were tough cops who can sniff any hint of baloney, and they raved about the coach’s motives and commitment.
“For me, I think it was just a matter of caring and listening,” Carroll said when asked about his involvement.
“The biggest thing I did was just listen and try to understand what was going on.”
Others interviewed over the years, have pointed out to Carroll’s extraordinary “EQ” – emotional quotient – his capacity to relate to people.
Yes, that’s a big part of coaching, but Carroll made it an art.
So many stories. So many ways he tried to get players to buy in, to convince them they were part of something bigger than themselves – but that they didn’t have to be someone other than their true selves to pull it off.
Who knows what he does now?
You know he’s not going to sit still. He’ll find some new avenue in which to compete, and some way that he can prove to any doubters that he’s the real thing.