The words replay in Puka Nacua’s head, again and again: “I … AM … SPEED. “I … AM … SPEED. “I … AM … SPEED.” He borrowed the mantra from Lightning McQueen, the underdog rookie from Cars, and has repeated it to himself before every Los Angeles Rams game this season, convincing himself that he belongs on this NFL stage, despite falling to the fifth round of the draft in part because he ran too slowly in the 40-yard dash.
Helmets, arms and shoulders hinder his vision, but Aaron Donald bulldozes his way through double-team after double-team. It’s the first half of a Week 4 game against the Minnesota Vikings. Donald has yet to sack anyone in this game, or this season. He isn’t worried, though. By the fourth quarter, the All-Pro defensive tackle of the Los Angeles Rams has had enough. He eyes QB Kirk Cousins and prepares to strike. NFL quarterbacks fear getting sacked by Donald in the same way ordinary people fear getting older: They know it will happen, and they know they can’t do much about it.
“Here, what we believe in is: You either get better or you get worse. You never stay the same.” Sean McVay, the 31-year-old coach of the Los Angeles Rams, the youngest head coach in modern NFL history, is standing outside the offices of the team’s training complex in Thousand Oaks, California. He speaks with the conviction of a man who cannot, will not, stomach complacency. And he isn’t just talking about his players; he’s talking about himself.
Mirin Fader 