There was some buzz about that. I kept hearing that while they were 99% sold on Williams, their 2nd choice was not Daniels or Maye, it was JJ.
SOUTH ELGIN, Ill. — A few months ago, quarterback coach Greg Holcomb’s phone buzzed with a text message. It was J.J. McCarthy.
The Minnesota Vikings QB had briefly returned to his hometown and wanted to work out. Awesome, Holcomb responded. When?
McCarthy immediately typed back: How about 6 a.m.?
“I didn’t even question it,” Holcomb says.
Holcomb called a local indoor facility, Bo Jackson’s Elite Sports, and asked if they’d be willing to open that early. When he informed McCarthy that the plans were set, the 22-year-old QB made two more requests: bring Sam — Holcomb’s son and one of the best middle school quarterbacks in the country — and find some receivers. Done and done.
They’d been troubleshooting McCarthy’s mechanics together for more than a decade at this point. Holcomb learned long ago not to question whether the student would change. After winning a state title at nearby Nazareth Academy? Still the same guy. After playing at IMG Academy in Florida? Hungrier. After becoming the starter at Michigan? More driven.
Apparently, the NFL lifestyle hadn’t swayed McCarthy’s eyes from his ultimate prize, either. Not the shine of being a first-round pick, not the gut punch of last summer’s torn meniscus, not the time spent on the sidelines. He remained the same dude who wanted to get up early to work out. The same guy who not only brought an extra NFL ball for young Sam to throw with, but who also, between throws that morning, asked Sam about his grades and life as a middle schooler.
The months since the workout have come and gone, and now training camp is almost here. Holcomb, sitting outside a Starbucks not too far from the McCarthy home, knows what that means. More eyeballs, more hoopla, more pressure. When he’s asked how he thinks McCarthy will manage the mayhem, he answers the same way so many of McCarthy’s former coaches and teammates do.
It’s not, “He’ll be fine.” It’s more forceful, like, “I can’t tell you how much I’d bet on that kid.”
“I don’t think it feels like weight to him,” Holcomb said.
Then what does it feel like?
“Another opportunity to do something great.”
These lines sound straight out of the computation notebook McCarthy began compiling years ago. He would read quotes from Michael Jordan and scribble them down. Late at night, lying in bed, he’d hang on every word of a motivational speech from some revered business executive or renowned psychologist. The following day, his parents, Jim and Megan, would find advice jotted on the whiteboard in his room.
Listen to stories about the lengths to which he’d go to create an edge, and it’s fair to wonder how he didn’t or hasn’t or won’t run out of horsepower. At IMG, McCarthy begged coaches to give him more responsibility. As in, “Send me the practice plan before tomorrow.” As in, “Allow me to make checks at the line of scrimmage — please.”
The school’s quarterbacks coach, Kurt Gould, would leave his laptop open at night so McCarthy could log in to the film platform. Another coach, Kyle Brey, peered out the window of his office one night and thought he saw someone standing on the field in the football stadium. The towering lights had already flickered off. For a brief moment, he worried he was seeing things.
Wait, no. There was indeed a person out there.
It was McCarthy. Holding a book. Brey hollered to one of his colleagues to relay the scene.
“What’s he doing?” the other coach asked.
“I think he’s going through the script for the game,” Brey said.
“Is he throwing?”
“No,” Brey responded. “He’s, like, taking imaginary snaps. And going through the reads. And now he’s looking at the book, walking 5 yards and doing it again.”
These types of stories were the norm for NFL scouts researching the quarterbacks in the 2024 draft. Had they spoken to McCarthy’s Michigan teammates, they might have heard fellow quarterback Jack Tuttle say, “That dude is a winner. He wins. Sometimes he just does stuff, where you’re just, like, speechless.”
Had they spoken to McCarthy’s coaches, they might have heard 75-year-old Michigan running backs coach Fred Jackson say, “He gave me something. I’ve been coaching a long time, and he kept me young. I love that kid.”
Had they spoken to the late Greg Harden, Michigan’s renowned mental coach who influenced Tom Brady, Charles Woodson and Michael Phelps, they might have heard that McCarthy’s makeup reminded him of Brady.
“He always talked about Tom’s heart and mind,” Greg’s wife, Shelia, said recently. “That’s where he saw the connection with J.J., the similarities.”
We haven’t even broached his physical traits yet, but how could you not hear all of the above and consider the fantastical possibilities?
The Vikings don't care how their young quarterback looks in OTAs or minicamp. They're focused on preparing him for when it matters.
Still sipping a hot coffee at Starbucks, Holcomb recalls another moment from the offseason. He was hosting a quarterbacks camp for middle-school-aged boys, and one of the attendees was Chicago Bears general manager Ryan Poles. During a changeover at the camp, Holcomb approached Poles and introduced himself. They found their way to the subject of McCarthy.
“He was talking about how much they (the Bears) loved J.J.,” Holcomb said. “And said to me, ‘I don’t think people realize how close we were to possibly taking him.’ Obviously, they love (No. 1 pick) Caleb (Williams), but I thought that was interesting.”
It’s a perfect segue to the forthcoming season opener.
“The Bears,” Holcomb said of McCarthy’s hometown team, shaking his head almost as if he’s forcing himself to believe it.
And on “Monday Night Football,” he’s told.
“The first game of the season,” he added. “Seriously. It’s such an epic stage to be on. The team for the city you lived in. Prime time. Your first start.”
It’s like it’s all starting to settle in, that he’s acknowledging for the first time the mountain of a challenge facing McCarthy. See, this isn’t typically how things work. You don’t get picked in the first round and anointed the future of the franchise, then suffer a season-ending injury, then recover to find yourself holding the keys to a Ferrari-level offense. There are worse places to be, certainly, but few football circumstances seem more daunting.
This gets back to the expectations. To the pressure. To the idea that McCarthy has to be the one to do what nobody has done before for these Twin Cities. How do you keep from crumbling beneath that anvil? What could keep someone grounded enough to stay physically stable and emotionally balanced?
“This is a really cool opportunity to see him start this journey,” Holcomb begins. “But people don’t realize that, while it’s exciting for him, yes, and it means something to him, of course, it’s not even close to his end goal.”
And what’s that? What’s his ultimate prize? Winning enough where his words and lessons can inspire another kid’s computation notebook.