SANTA CLARA, Calif. — Mike Vrabel remembers the moment with vivid clarity. He does not recall it fondly.
Nearly 29 years ago, on the first day of the 1997 NFL Draft, the Ohio State All-American defensive lineman was sitting in his childhood home near Akron, nervously waiting to find out where his pro football journey would begin. Late in the first round, Vrabel’s phone rang. It was from someone in the Detroit Lions’ draft room, who posed a question to the two-time Big Ten Defensive Lineman of the Year.
“Hey, we’re thinking about taking Jerry Wunsch or Juan Roque. Can you tell us which one’s better?”
Blood rose to Vrabel’s head. He had played against both offensive tackles — Wisconsin’s Wunsch and Arizona State’s Roque — during his collegiate career. The Lions, who held the fifth pick of the second round, merely wanted his opinion before turning in the card.
“If you’re not gonna draft me,” Vrabel snapped, “don’t f—ing call me.”
Vrabel slammed down the phone. The Lions took Roque. The mood at the house, packed with family members and friends, grew darker. Vrabel eventually retreated to the basement, too bitter to socialize.
Finally, late in the third round, the Pittsburgh Steelers called: They were selecting Vrabel and converting him to outside linebacker. Everyone in the house celebrated — except for the guy who’d just been drafted.
“I was mad that day, and it’s probably something I carried with me during my time in Pittsburgh,” Vrabel recalled Monday night as he dined at an upscale Mexican restaurant in the heart of Silicon Valley. “There were guys getting picked ahead of me that I knew weren’t as good as I was. I had a lot of faith in my abilities, but not everyone saw it that way. And it was hard.”
Eventually, Vrabel — who’ll complete a phenomenal first season as the New England Patriots’ coach on Super Bowl Sunday at Levi’s Stadium — channeled that chip on his shoulder and propelled himself into prominence.
After four years as a Steelers backup, Vrabel signed a modest free-agent deal with the New England Patriots in March 2001, becoming one of the “Discount Dudes” who helped spur a shocking Super Bowl upset of the St. Louis Rams in 2002. He burgeoned into an ultra-versatile star — at outside and inside linebacker, and as a moonlighting red-zone tight end — while helping the Pats win two more Super Bowls (and reach a third) before being traded to the Kansas City Chiefs in 2009.
Two years later, Vrabel imported that salty streak into a coaching career that has been similarly striking. His first four seasons as the head coach of the Tennessee Titans, who hired him in 2018, included four winning records, three playoff appearances, two AFC South titles, one AFC Championship Game trip and an AP Coach of the Year award.
Fired by the Titans after consecutive losing seasons, Vrabel, following a one-year sabbatical as a Cleveland Browns coaching and personnel consultant, was hired by Patriots owner Robert Kraft in January 2025 to revive the franchise in the wake of consecutive 4-13 campaigns.
The turnaround has been sudden and conspicuous. New England went 14-3 in the regular season to win the AFC East, making Vrabel the prohibitive favorite to win a second Coach of the Year award on Thursday night.
In three days, the Patriots will face the NFC champion Seattle Seahawks in the Super Bowl — and Vrabel, while still harboring the edge he has carried for the better part of three decades, will appreciate the moment, relish his players’ passion and try harder than ever before not to sweat the small stuff
“It’s been a journey,” Vrabel said as he slow-sipped a Mexican lager and reflected upon his playing and coaching careers. I got it, having covered much of it, on some of the sport’s biggest stages. When Vrabel, after catching a pivotal touchdown in the Patriots’ Super Bowl victory over the Carolina Panthers in 2004, told me, “I held it like it was my third child,” it spoke to a clarity of purpose that bordered on the maniacal.
In recent months, I’ve noticed a man who has made a concerted effort to inject some balance into his thoughts and actions.
“I don’t know if it’s decision fatigue,” Vrabel continued, “or not getting caught up in the small stuff, but I’m trying to focus on not obsessing over some of the little things that either I can’t control or just aren’t that important.
“Maybe I did do that before, but you can’t let one little thing affect your whole day. But I fight it constantly.”
Vrabel’s internal battle has translated into a unique leadership style that has brought out the best in his underestimated team. For all his brashness, intensity and unyielding quest for detailed excellence, his presence is far from the detached authoritarian persona of the man who coached him in New England, six-time Super Bowl winner Bill Belichick.
Patriots head coach Mike Vrabel has gotten close to players like Stefon Diggs in their short time together. (Maddie Meyer / Getty Images)
For one thing, Vrabel knows what it’s like to be on the other side. That was clear 22 years ago when, at a postgame party celebrating the Pats’ AFC Championship Game victory over the Indianapolis Colts, Vrabel saw that Belichick had called me, seized my phone, impersonated my voice and asked a highly technical question about his alignment on a specific play.
When Belichick started to answer, Vrabel exclaimed, “F—, Bill, this is Vrabel!”
“He played the game,” said Morgan Moses, the Patriots’ veteran right tackle. “So when he does all that, you know it’s real.”
For Vrabel, all that includes inserting himself into tackling drills by serving as “an extra blocking sled” who is sometimes knocked on his butt by hyped-up Patriots defenders. He loves it, by the way.
“Sometimes my neck is sore the next day in training camp,” he said. “But I enjoy it. If that’s the end result, then great. But sometimes I tell them, ‘Maybe in games you can hit the other guys as hard as you hit me.’”
Last summer, during joint workouts with the Washington Commanders, Vrabel took the term “peacemaker” to a new level, diving into a pile to break up a post-play scrum and emerging with a bloody cheek.
He found levity in that moment, too, using it as material to chide one of the Patriots players in the fray: rookie left tackle Will Campbell.
“Now it’s like a joke, because I’m always like, ‘Yeah, I had to go save Will,’” Vrabel said. “He says, ‘I beat you there,’ and I say, ‘Well, I was just getting in there because I didn’t think you could handle yourself.’ I don’t want anybody fighting. I’m going in there to break them up. I’m a bouncer.”
Campbell not only can take a joke, but also can dish one out — another testament to Vrabel’s evolved approach to coaching. Before the season opener, the coach tabbed the first-round draft pick to be the “news anchor” who clowns various teammates during Friday morning meetings in a format reminiscent of Saturday Night Live’s “Weekend Update.”
With Vrabel’s right-hand man, vice president of football operations and strategy John (Stretch) Streicher, serving as the lead joke writer, Campbell’s dry, droll delivery regularly cracks up the room. Running gags include Moses’ age, certain players’ penchant for forgetfulness and star receiver Stefon Diggs’ proclivity for procreation. Everyone is fair game, and everyone refrains from taking it personally.
“I’m catching strays left and right,” said cornerback Carlton Davis, a free-agent signee last March. “It’s cool, though. It’s fun.”
Davis also describes Vrabel as “chill — (though) not too chill to the point where we’re not productive. He tells us all the time, ‘We’ll treat you how you treat the team.’ And if you treat the team right, he’ll treat you not just like another employee, but like family.”
Patriots coach Mike Vrabel celebrates with the Lamar Hunt Trophy after New England beat the Denver Broncos in the AFC Championship Game. (Matthew Stockman / Getty Images)
Vrabel’s own family dynamic has affected his coaching style. He admittedly was hard on sons Tyler (who played offensive line at Boston College) and Carter (who played baseball at Tennessee Tech) when they competed in youth sports. Inspired by his wife, Jennifer, he has tried harder to accentuate the positive since becoming the Pats’ coach.
One of Vrabel’s frequent pregame statements to the men he coaches: “I can’t wait to watch you play.” After games, he regularly stands in the tunnel and exchanges bro-hugs and hand slaps with Patriots players as they head to the locker room.
Many of those same players, of course, drive him crazy on a frequent basis. As someone who swallowed an unwanted dose of humility before he even entered the league, and who waited until his fifth season to find his groove, Vrabel has little patience for those who don’t treat their opportunities with the proper degree of seriousness. He cares deeply about the details and wants his players to do the same.
“We focus on the little things,” he said. “Like, I think being on time is something that is important.”
At various times during the season, Vrabel has had to curb his impulse to snap. Whether it’s a player showing up late to a meeting, wearing ripped jeans on the team plane or simply not overtly exuding the type of competitive fire he craves, the coach has experienced plenty of moments that make the blood begin to rise to his head, only to take a beat and save his ire for more important occasions.
Recounting some of those stories Monday night as he finished his meal, Vrabel smiled at his restraint. A few minutes later, after having excused himself to use the restroom, the coach returned, practically beaming. He’d seen about 20 Patriots players at a table on the other side of the restaurant, and what he’d witnessed had been oddly wholesome.
“It’s Monday night of Super Bowl week, and they’re all sitting there eating ice cream,” Vrabel said. “I mean, you’ve got to love that.”
It was a sweet moment — on more than one level — for a dude whose saltiness once defined him.