Brian Daboll’s first press conference was in Cleveland in 2009. His boss was Eric Mangini, who didn’t exactly exude personality, and he had already worked for Bill Belichick and Nick Saban, masters of saying nothing and being bland.
So when Daboll stepped in front of the microphones and cameras, he knew what he had to do.
And it didn’t take him long to realize he was wrong.
“It stunk, to be honest with you,” Daboll said. “I was trying to do something that I really wasn’t. You know how it goes, right?
“So I do it, and I get up to the office and there’s a blinking light on one of those old office phones and I pick it up and, I hear my wife’s message. She’s like ‘What the hell was that?’”
What it was, was an attempt to be something he wasn’t – something far too many coaches, and most former Belichick assistants, tend to do. He was trying to be the image of what he thought a successful coach should be.
It didn’t take him long to realize he would be much better off being himself.
And that’s how he got to where he was on Monday, 12 years later, being introduced as the new head coach of the Giants and one who is remarkably “comfortable in my own skin.” He didn’t begin his tenure with a script, a fiery speech, or a detailed presentation of his well-crafted plan. He didn’t come off as a robot from central casting or someone desperately trying to imitate what a mentor told him he should be.
He was … normal. He offered a charming “How’s everybody doing?” at the start before going into a few thank yous, and then spent a half hour engaging in an end-of-the-bar-like conversation. He was funny, interesting, self-deprecating, personable and seemingly honest.
It’s early, but for a franchise that has slogged through five years of mostly misery, his pleasant, everyman demeanor sure felt like exactly what the Giants need.
“He’s very genuine, down to earth,” said Giants co-owner John Mara. “He believes in having relationships with people and he’s a people person.”
“The thing that I’ve learned in my 21 years, and I’d say more these past four or five years is just be true to yourself,” Daboll said. “And be true to the players and the people that you work with, because they’ll see right through you if you’re not.”
Yeah they will, and that’s been a bit of a problem around the Giants lately, which is why it’s probably good that they emphasized “authentic” this time around. They were in type-casting mode in their recent coaching searches – from the young, offensive whiz kid in Ben McAdoo to the “adult in the room” in Pat Shurmur, to Judge, who won the Giants owners over because he looked and sounded like what they thought a coach should be.
The results obviously weren’t good. McAdoo spent two years trying to figure out what his image should be, both in public with his changing outfits and hair styles and in his locker room with his constantly changing approach to dealing with players. Shurmur went from “adult” to being overly sensitive and defensive when it came to answering the tough questions. And Judge was so into his Belichickian image of what a coach should be that it predictably grated on his players and wore thin on fans when he stayed relentlessly on message even when the results weren’t there.
Daboll just seems … different. In fact, it’s hard to think of a head coach in New York – especially a football coach – who gave a better, more authentic first impression. He used the word “culture” only twice. He didn’t stubbornly refuse to say his starting quarterback’s name, as Judge did two years ago. There weren’t a list of lofty goals or promises, coupled with a detailed plan of how to get there. His boldest statement was “Got a lot of work to do, that’s for sure.”
In fact, when he was asked about how the Cincinnati Bengals went from 2-14 to the Super Bowl in just two years and, you know, why can’t the Giants do that? He paused, had a pained look on his face, and joked “Right now, I’m just trying to hire a staff.”
It was all relaxing, in a way. There was no tension in the air, and no apprehension either. He had a natural way of making everyone feel at ease, and confident the job was in the right hands. He wasn’t spouting cliches or being unnecessarily long-winded. He came off as relatable, approachable and … human.
And by all accounts, that’s the way he is with his players too, which is why they seem to like him so much. That was a hard lesson he had to learn, too. As a young coach working at the feet of the masters, he sure tried to be a combination of Belichick and Saban. But he learned that probably only works when you’ve got a hand full of championship rings on your fingers.
It definitely didn’t work for him.
For example, Daboll recalled a scene in his first year as a defensive assistant with the Patriots in 2000, when his job was to help run the scout team. A player made a mistake, so Daboll tore into him. “I mean, I go off. I start Mother-F-ing him, I’m ripping him.” That’s when veteran Patriots linebacker Willie McGinest, then in his seventh NFL season, walked over, grabbed his arm, and said “Hey little guy, relax!”
And so he did.
“I think that you learn as you go how you communicate with players,” Daboll said. “I think there’s mutual respect in this business. As a leader, you have to have tough conversations, truthful conversations. Each situation is a little bit different.”
Just knowing that seemingly makes him the perfect counterpoint to the Judge Era. The Giants needed more of a players’ coach after Judge’s act wore thin on his guys. They needed a more personable head coach to work in “alignment” with the front office after Judge’s relationship with GM Dave Gettleman became strained at the end. And they needed someone with a naturally better public image, more comfortable with who he is, after Judge’s press conferences became the subject of too many embarrassing jokes.
Of course, none of that matters if he doesn’t win, which is always the only thing that really matters. Tom Coughlin was once hated outside the Giants organization and even in some corners of his locker room. Then, he won a Super Bowl and became beloved.
So who knows if Daboll’s approach will work, or if the Giants will be back here in two years searching for somebody who acts tougher? For one day, though, the Giants had to like what they saw and heard. Their new coach came across both as a guy you’d want to have a beer with and the guy you’d want in charge of your franchise. That isn’t an easy trick to pull off.
But he did it because he did the most important thing: He came across as himself.
Maybe that won’t be enough for him to turn the Giants into a winner again. But at least he knows that being authentic and not trying to live up to some crafted image gives him and the Giants the best chance they’ve got.
