The magic and mystery of Los Angeles Chargers quarterback Justin Herbert

EUGENE, ORE. - LET'S TALK ABOUT THE HAIR.
Justin Herbert stares away, clearly distraught. He's not embarrassed by his haircut -- in December, he arrived at a Chargers press conference looking less like a surfer god but more like a military school student, an awkward transformation that launched a thousand memes. But because talking about the haircut requires him to discuss his least favorite subject, which he's tried to avoid since the first time we met for breakfast: himself.

Herbert makes pancakes using a fork. "So John Lott was our strength and conditioning coach. He said that he cut my son's hair every day. I was like, "Sweet! You can cut my hair." He takes a bite. "He took it out of the weight room and... that's about it."

Why would you allow your strength and conditioning coach to...

He shrugs. He shrugs.

The $27 million contract for Offensive Rookie, Year. This is the face of a new relevant franchise. Yet.

Herbert's hair is now a little longer, but he still looks young for his age, sitting on his plate and looking like the most popular kid in school. He is dressed in a Tshirt and shorts, which were likely sent by Nike. Herbert drives an Audi sedan from Eugene. (He drove it over 13 hours from Los Angeles). He later said that he doesn’t go to the grocery store because it’s too expensive. He says, "It's just calories."

Herbert rarely looks at social media. Herbert doesn't tweet and joined Instagram after he graduated from college. His marketing reps convinced him to sign up for the service. He says, slightly sheepishly, "I don’t really manage it." He seems happy when I mention that his public persona is somewhat obscure. He says, "I believe the more people know me, the better." "I don’t want to read articles about me."

Herbert looks at the tape recorder. Both of us laugh.

I was intrigued to see how the quarterback would handle fan interactions when he told me that we were meeting at this breakfast spot near Oregon's campus. In the half hour since our arrival, nobody has approached him. The waitress keeps refilling his coffee without saying a word. Herbert, who is polite to a fault and stops midsentence to say thank you, has not even made eye contact. I ask him if it's surprising he doesn't seem bothered and he shrugs. He says, "I don’t think people care much."

This is obviously absurd. We are in Eugene, Oregon. Herbert's origin story is just as interwoven into the fabric of this college town (hemp) as beer, bicycles, and Phil Knight. He grew up in Eugene, where he attended football games with his grandfather, unlike Knight. He would become the school's star quarterback and solidify his local legend by playing for the Ducks in his senior season instead of being drafted. We're sitting at the table where his picture hangs, as well as other Oregon sports heroes such Sabrina Ionescu and Payton Pritchard, all dressed in green and yellow.

Mariota, the former No. Herbert is friends with Mariota, the former No. 2 pick. He now works as a backup in Las Vegas. Herbert and his parents own a Eugene house. They share a marketing agency and a network with Oregon alumni and friends. While their careers may be heading in opposite directions, their NFL journeys began in the same place. The football world was skeptical of their leadership abilities.

The draft is a marketplace for competing ideas. The league's contempt for quieter personalities under the center is one of its staler tropes. This investing principle persists despite many counterexamples. It is as though introversion is equivalent to sloppy footwork and a wonky release. Herbert's generational talents could make him the star who both inspires a shattered fan base and discredits the myth of the Alpha. He's not willing to give his opinion on how he was perceived. I suggest a new tactic, noting that Eli Manning (two-time Super Bowl MVP) was criticised early in his career because of his reserved demeanor.

Herbert frowns. He says, "I wish I had known people on the Giants roster who could explain Eli Manning's behavior in the huddle." "I'm sure he was in control of the offense when he got on the field." He had to. He may be soft-spoken on the football field and maybe he doesn’t love all the attention. But I don’t believe that loving attention and needing it are prerequisites to being a good football player.

Justin Herbert isn't interested in talking about Justin Herbert. However, that doesn't mean Justin Herbert has nothing to share.

Herbert states, "I don’t believe loving the attention or needing it is necessary to be a great football player." For ESPN, Aaron Okayama

CBS' play-by-play announcer Jim Nantz was stunned when the CHARGERS' offense jogged onto field last week. Tony Romo, his booth partner, said "Well, how about this." "Justin Herbert is the quarterback on the first snap!" Nantz was not the only one to be surprised at Herbert's selection over Tyrod Taylor, the veteran starter. Hunter Henry, tight end, saw the rookie in the huddle and asked him his thoughts on the field. Herbert laughs, "I was like let me call it the play," Herbert says.

Herbert said that Taylor, the quarterback, was unaware that he had sustained a chest injury in warm-ups. The team doctor had accidentally punctured Taylor's lung. "I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Coach Anthony Lynn informed the rookie, less than 30 seconds prior to kickoff, that Taylor was going to be starting in his place. As the news spread through the sidelines, Joey Bosa, star edge rusher, walked up and patted him on the back.

The first drive was blurred. Herbert, who was based exclusively at Oregon's gun, was unusually young because the pandemic had shortened the NFL's offseason program, and eliminated it altogether. Part of his summer was spent in Eugene, calling plays in an imaginary meeting and his brothers Mitchell and Patrick radioing messages with a walkie talkie-talkie. He was now lining up at SoFi Stadium with the Chiefs' defense pressing down on him, like homesteaders descend on unexplored land. His teammates were stunned. Easton Stick, third-string quarterback for the Chargers, recalls watching Herbert flip over his protection in the first series. He then went through his progressions, before checking down to Joshua Kelley, running back, for a 35 yard gain. Stick said that Herbert had not done it once in training camp.

Herbert was a huge success in his debut. However, L.A. lost in overtime against the reigning Super Bowl champions. The Chargers lost the following week and then again the following week, going 2-8 in the subsequent 10 games. Some losses were quite chaotic while others were more unusual -- this is what the Chargers have done in recent years. They are a team that seems to be subject to the will of special-teams gods. Despite this, there was plenty of optimism. Fans were more concerned about the young quarterback's performance than the results. Early returns were impressive. Even though Herbert played behind a weak offensive line, he was dazzling with his arm, his legs and Fred Astaire-ing through crowded pockets to launch bombs downfield. With 31 touchdowns, Herbert broke Baker Mayfield's rookie record and the team finished the season with four consecutive wins.

Although Herbert finished sixth overall, just behind Joe Burrow, and Tua Tagovailoa in the draft, there was a lot of doubt about his abilities during the process. Many analysts were impressed by his physical abilities, but they questioned his decision-making. In his last season at Oregon where he was lacking elite weapons, the quarterback sometimes locked onto his first read before taking off. Herbert and I had breakfast together and I admitted to Herbert that I underestimated him after college. This was partly because I didn’t consider the context surrounding him in comparison to Burrow and Tagovailoa at LSU and Alabama. He smiles and says, "I appreciate your saying that," It can't be done."

Herbert celebrating his first NFL touchdown, against the Chiefs in September last year. AP Photo/Peter Joneleit

Herbert said that he tries to avoid too much analysis and coverage about his career. The Chargers and the Rams were featured last year on HBO's "Hard Knocks." Although the rookie quarterback was in a few scenes, Stick says Herbert tried to hide his face from the cameras. His teammates described him as a homebody who is more interested in watching movies (especially Christopher Nolan's "Inception" or "Interstellar") and playing board games rather than going out. He insisted on purchasing a copy of Settlers of Catan for the group, which is a Risk-like strategy game in which players accumulate resources to acquire territory. Gabe Nabers is the team's fullback. He says they played almost every night. Nabers says, "He loves that sport." He'll do whatever it takes to win.

Nate Gilliam, a member of the practice squad, recalls that he lost his first game. He looked at Gabe, Gabe, or another guy and said, "That won't happen again." He giggles. He giggles. "I just met you.

The three rookies moved in to a house near the Chargers' facility in Costa Mesa before the season began. Herbert's teammates said that they soon discovered their roommate was a tidy freak with meticulous handwriting and a color-coordinated wardrobe. They also disliked any kind of mess. Nabers claims that Herbert's temper flared up once when Nabers attempted to abandon his grocery cart in the lot. He pantomiming, he said, "The first time that we went shopping, I felt like, 'Eh. I'll leave the cart right here'." He replied, "No. "Take it all the way back.

Herbert is now living alone. He recently adopted Nova, a cat named Nova after a weapon from the video game Call of Duty. He says, "I like things neat." "Things have their place and should be returned to where they came from." He is a fan of order, and he enjoys the feeling that he can sort through the chaos on defense and Marie Kondo to get to a first down. This is pre-snap recognition in quarterback terms. He remembers a moment on a seemingly ordinary play when he saw a Raiders defensive look, and he killed the call. Then he reloaded the call after Las Vegas had adjusted to his adjustments.

He says, "It was almost like playing chess." He sighs, "If you could do this on every play, every drive ..."," he says. "I believe that's where success comes."

Perhaps. It also happened when Herbert was surrounded in chaos -- dodging free rushers, hurling passes across the body, and breaking rules that apply to less talented athletes. John Beck, Herbert's private quarterback coach, believes Herbert's natural arm talent allows him to thrive without structure. Beck, who worked with Drew Brees and Matt Ryan, says that he feels fortunate to have had the opportunity to be around such great throwers. "There aren’t many people on this planet like them."

Herbert, a young man, wears a Chargers shirt that his grandfather wore in San Diego. Courtesy Herbert family

HERBERT WOULD BE A DOCTOR OR a teacher of science if he wasn't a professional football player. His father, Mark, was a high school biology teacher. His grandfather lived nearby in Eugene. He and his brothers spent hours playing with snakes and trapping nutria, an endemic rodent species that looks a lot like rats, growing up. Holly, Herbert's mother, said Herbert brought home a variety of animals to keep as pets. Holly also mentioned that Herbert once jumped out from his aquarium and drowned. She says that Herbert was "devastated".

Justin and I have finished breakfast and he takes us to his parents' home, a rambler that he and his brothers grew. Mitchell, a Columbia student, is visiting us from New York. So we sit outside on the dusty patio in our backyard. Mitchell points out the lawn that he used to play on with his younger brother as a child. Mitchell says, "He was just always so talented athletically." Although Justin would not say it, people knew that he was different. This is just how he has always been.

Herbert had earlier in the day told me how he got to be a quarterback as a child. He bragged that his dad was the coach. Everyone else said he was an athletic prodigy who could throw perfect spirals even when he was just out of diapers. He was out-throwing the older boys in track and field events at age 4. He was able to pull off unassisted triple plays at the age of 5. Lane Johnson, his high school football coach, said that Herbert's "Rookie-of-the Year" throwing ability was first demonstrated to him at a small league game. A young Justin took off his catcher's mask and fielded a bunt. He then barehanded the ball, and threw out a child. He was in second grade at the time.

Holly claims that Herbert's behavior is the only time she can recall Holly ever being called. It was when a teacher called Holly to ask her if she could make Herbert behave better at recess. She says it was embarrassing to watch her son play youth soccer because he scored all the goals. She says Herbert, a boy, was reluctant to boast about his accomplishments. He was not interested in attention seeking when the spotlight was shining on him. Holly describes Justin to be a typical middle child. She says, "Sort Of The Odd Man Out."

Herbert's inability to promote himself is partly why he was not more popularly recruited at high school. He grew several inches after breaking his femur in his junior year. He was now 6'6". It would have been easy to believe that a 6-foot-6 kid with a Howitzer on his right shoulder would be a big draw for football programs all over the world, but Herbert was not heavily recruited because he rarely left Eugene. At his father's request, he only visited one quarterback camp and informed his parents that he did not plan to attend any more. Beck says that Herbert didn't participate in The Elite 11 throwing event, which is widely attended by top prospects across the country. "I don’t think he fully appreciated how unique a talent it was." Beck adds. He didn't know how he stood next to everyone else.

Herbert and his family celebrate Herbert's sixth pick in the 2020 NFL Draft. NFL via Getty Images

Herbert was accepted at Oregon by his dream school. He cracked the Oregon starting lineup under Mark Helfrich as a true freshman. Although the team was very poor, Herbert was clearly very talented. Willie Taggart became the head coach after Helfrich was fired. He refused to name Herbert the starter and created a faux scandal when he said that he was searching for a true leader. Herbert's understated personality was constantly criticized, and he was figuratively prodded and poked all the way to the Chargers draft. Herbert studied biology, and received many academic honors with nearly perfect grades. Is he too intelligent? Unnamed lineman said Herbert was very shy. He could he manage a team? A funny story was written by someone about how he set up a fishing club at high school. He loved fish more than people! (No one said the last thing but you get the idea.

It was exhausting. Herbert didn't complain in public. But teammates, coaches and friends did. Joey Harrington (ex-Oregon QB) told me that he is frustrated by the way history repeats itself year after year. He says, "I think people have a vision of what a leader or quarterback should be." "But, a lot of people in the NFL just want you to do your job and shut the f---ing up. I don't care what you do to motivate me, if your team doesn't perform well, it's costing me money."

I ask him if Herbert has been advised to ignore the noise and he laughs. He doesn't care. "He doesn't listen ---;, he just does what he is told."

True, Herbert ignored most of the discussion before the draft. Desmond Howard, ESPN's reporter, questioned Herbert's ability to win over a locker-room compared to Burrow. The quote spread like oil, but Herbert claims he didn’t hear it until this spring, when the comments surfaced again, after he was named Offensive Rookie. Although he insists that he didn’t care, he admits that he had to respond to pointed questions from NFL teams who shared similar concerns. He says, "I would go to meetings and they'd tell me, 'Well we've heard some concerns about your leadership abilities,'" "I replied, "Listen, I'm me. Ask your teammates. Ask your colleagues.'

He recalled a moment in his 2019 performance against Washington State. It was less than one minute remaining in the game, and the team was down one. "I can recall sitting on the sideline, saying, 'We practiced the 2-minute drill every Wednesday. We are absolutely fine. We are absolutely fine. Oregon won 37-35 after Herbert was 4-for-4 in passing attempts.

He says, "If you can look people straight in the eyes in the huddle to say that we're okay when bullets fly and things seem terrible, then that's leadership." "Being yourself. Being yourself. "Staying the same person all the time."

Although he admits that he is an introvert, he says that it is not a problem. Marcus Arroyo (or Oregon's offensive coordinator) gave Herbert, back in college, a book entitled "Quiet" that outlines the power of introverts in a world that can't stop talking. Herbert recalls reading a section on a developmental psychologist, who exposed hundreds of children to stimuli and visuals in infanthood. He says that while one might think that quieter babies would be more sensitive to stressful environments than they were, the future introverts were the ones who danced and wiggled the most.

Susan Cain, the book's author wrote that it was as if the people they read about are processing more information, conscious or unconscious, about the world.

Herbert's family, teammates, and loved ones joined him this summer at the charity golf tournament in Oregon to benefit youth sports programs. Amanda Meg Photography

The day after I meet Herbert, his family and former teammates descend upon Eugene to support a charity tournament at a local club. The morning fog is lifting from the pines. Chargers wideout Keenan Alles, dressed in bright violet polo and matching sneakers, sits next to a buffet, eating a plate of biscuits. After seven years of receiving passes from Philip Rivers, I sit down and ask Allen what it was like to play with a rookie quarterback. He says, "Phil has the knowledge and the experience." "But as far athletic ability?" He snorts. "It's not even close. As he is hit, the guy throws 70-yard bombs.

Wide receiver points out a Week 9 play against Raiders called X Tower. Herbert was supposed throw the ball to Mike Williams via a post route. Allen cleared space. When the safety left Allen in space and Herbert was left looking to his left at Mike Williams, Herbert abruptly flicked it nearly 30 yards downfield to Allen. Allen was stunned when it spiralled into his hands.

Allen says that experienced quarterbacks would not even consider such a route. Herbert's extraterrestrial arm talent makes it more difficult for receivers to work together, he says. Because no one can take any plays off, Now, as the third player on the team, it's difficult to think about... Ok, the ball is going Keenan so you don’t have to run your own route. The ball is always at your disposal.

Herbert is Rivers' opposite in many ways. Allen doesn't recall Rivers ever screaming at him. Rivers is well-known for his antics on and off the field. Allen laughs and says that Phil will yell at every play. He doesn't care if his team is on the other side. Phil yellin'." Wide receiver Phil yellin'." He says that Herbert used to be a solitary man for hours at his locker after losing the Chargers last year. His eyes were straight ahead, wearing full pads. Allen says, "Bro: Let it go. I had to tell him that." "It has nothing to do with me. It's fine to leave it on the field.

Allen stops, and then adds: It's great to have a man like that. He wants to win, you can tell.

The Chargers made it to the Super Bowl seven times under Rivers. They did not make it past the divisional round. Even though the roster was full of talent, the Chargers seemed stuck in perpetual misfortune or playing out Sisyphean drama. Rivers was doomed for endless comeback attempts that would always end in a missed field goal. Chargers fans can be forgiven for abandoning the team due to the numerous losses, injuries, and the decision by the owners to leave town. Then Herbert came in and changed everything. Although Kansas City is still the favourite in the conference, analysts and fans feel that Los Angeles might be a dark horse for the playoffs.

Drafting a quarterback in a league that values quarterback play is like finding a working GPS. No matter where you are or where your team goes, you can always find your way north. The Chargers' compass today is located on the 10th green, where they hit the same shot over and again, exchanging pleasantries every time someone stops by his tee. Allen does a double-take when Herbert drives a perfect shot over the trees. He shakes his head. "Relax, my man!"

Herbert grins. Herbert smiles.

Pep Hamilton, the ex-coach of Los Angeles' former quarterbacks, pulls up in his cart. Herbert makes a very similar shot. I have seen him swing the same way about a dozen more times and they all follow a similar arc. Hamilton now joins the Texans and whistles. He says, "Jesus! Herbert!" "You have been doing that all day?"

The quarterback shrugs. He shrugs, "I've had some great ones, and some not-so good ones," he said, tossing his driver into his bag.

I am looking for insight as Herbert's Chargers teammates walk by. He's like a sponge, he eats up everything, absorbs so many info, and wants to learn the playbook the most. Scott Quessenberry, a backup security guard, says, "He's a biology major." Herbert sits up and Quessenberry gestures in our direction. "He's like, 'Does he know the life span of organisms in an ocean?'"

Herbert says, "I have never said that."

Golfers are grouped together and cycle in groups. The sun sets and the tournament ends. Many more people arrive for the celebrations, gathering for barbecue and drinks. Hamilton is standing by himself with a beer, and I ask him about his experience teaching Herbert last season. Hamilton, who was the offensive coordinator for the Colts for just two seasons, says that he thinks he shares a lot with Andrew Luck. He is a quiet leader who leads by example. He is a natural tough guy and gains respect and credibility in the field.

Hamilton smiles. Hamilton smiles.

We sit down at a table, and we watch as a small group gathers around a temporary stage where a hired performer plays covers of wedding songs. After strumming the first bars of "Sweet Caroline," the singer stops and asks Herbert to join him. The quarterback shakes his head but the guy doesn't want to take no for an answer. Herbert then trudges up the steps where he is flanked by two of his offensive linemen. Soon, all the Chargers present at the event have joined them. One of the linemen belts out the chorus, while the kicker is moving with his eyes closed and Allen is dancing along with someone's mother. About a minute into the song, Herbert fades into the background and then tries to blend into the crowd. His teammates pull him back onto the stage, too.