Von Miller considers the fate of the modern-day pass rusher like a philosopher mulls the meaning of life. For the Bills’ sack master there’s not much difference, which is to say that Miller thinks about the purpose of his existence—dropping quarterbacks like bad habits—incessantly, in or out of season, awake or asleep, growing more obsessed each day.
Miller’s pass-rusher paradigm begins here: The vast majority of rushers must be tall enough to impede throwing lanes; strong enough to move massive men; patient enough to fail far more than they succeed; quick enough to thrive in slivers of time and space; athletic enough to change directions, deploy hands and bowl over and tug down targets. But that’s just the foundation. Even for the rare human who can do all those things, the baseline is no longer enough.
In the modern NFL, many rule changes—, pass rushers argue—are designed to make the gig more arduous. The malicious intent with which, say, Lawrence Taylor once rocked quarterbacks is no longer permitted. Miller and his compatriots can’t hit too hard, too low, too high or too late. The NFL has made clear that it values its most glamorous position above all else. And in choosing pretty over gritty, the league also incentivized coaches to evolve offenses in ways that are increasingly unfriendly to pass rushers. Philosophies and schemes continue to widen (using more of the field) and tighten (shorter throws, delivered faster, more often). Coordinators weaponize timing and precision. All combine for optimum efficiency, further reducing those slivers of time and space available to Miller and his friends.
A typical sack, for instance, happens between 2.5 seconds and 3.2 seconds after the snap. That’s the window. The nature of any play, not to mention physics, makes arriving any earlier almost impossible. In most instances, any later means . As a response to the rule changes and offensive innovations, defensive coordinators have other players blitz less frequently, allowing more blockers to focus on pure rushers like Miller. They must, in their parlance, get home, with less help, in less time, every season.
No wonder Miller, who has more career sacks (123.5) than any other active player, cannot stop contemplating. In an era that sees quarterbacks drop back more than ever before, the job of the pass rusher has never been more important—or more impossible.
The quarterback torturers are “genetic freaks,” per Miller, beefy and bendy bodybuilders who fly like hurdlers, only their obstacles are large, long and mobile. Modern rushers blend leverage, elite fast-twitch musculature, geometry, math, science, brute strength, biometrics, hand techniques, analytics, strategy and footwork. They’re a combination of wrestlers, movers, yogis, technicians, poker players, mixed martial artists, dancers, trapeze artists, magicians, decoys, data collectors and athletes. They operate alone or in groups of varying size. The best welcome double and triple teams as acceptable job hazards. And without them, NFL franchises have little hope to win Super Bowls. Which is why the 14 largest contracts next season will go to quarterbacks—and four of the 10 next largest will go to those who chase them.
The resistance to the quarterback-friendly forces gathers near Las Vegas over two days in June, at the Von Miller Pass Rush Summit, where 30 pros immerse themselves in a sack incubator of sorts. They attend an informal mixer, train at a high school named Pinecrest Academy-Sloan Canyon, take turns leading film review sessions, trade tips and insight, firm up techniques, golf, gamble and drink. The experience, which Miller thought up seven years ago, is intended to close the gap between their mission and everything that threatens to unravel it. They’re here for their team, and there’s only one requirement to join: They must hunt quarterbacks.
Hip-hop thumps at a headache-inducing volume as Raiders sack master Maxx Crosby rushes a drink cooler, wearing a black notorious hat, Marilyn Manson shorts and dozens of tattoos. Pass rushing, he says without hesitation, is “one of the most difficult and unique things in professional sports. It’s a science. But there’s an art to it.”
