I was a backup quarterback in the NFL. The Shedeur Sanders situation feels familiar – The Athletic

Editor’s note: This story is part of Peak, The Athletic’s desk covering leadership, personal development and performance through the lens of sports. Follow Peak here.

Brian Hoyer played 15 seasons in the NFL. He started 41 games but mostly was a backup for nine teams: the Patriots, Browns, Texans, Bears, Colts, Cardinals, 49ers, Raiders and Steelers.

In 2009, I was an undrafted rookie backing up Tom Brady in New England. I knew nothing at the time. But Tom was so competitive that he wanted every single rep in practice.

Bill O’Brien, our quarterbacks coach, would send me into the huddle to get a rep at practice, and Tom would say, “Get the hell outta of here. I want this rep.” I would be like: “Uh, but … I was supposed to …” And he’d just be like: “Get out of here.”

That was a great thing for me to realize at an early age: This is the NFL. If you want to be successful, you have to take some things into your own hands.

I thought back to that this week after seeing the storyline about Shedeur Sanders’ getting no first-team reps in practice. People want to judge Shedeur good, bad or indifferent after this situation. It seems people want to say either “this is what I expected” or defend him by saying “he didn’t get any reps.” All of that can be true at the same time.

Unfortunately, that’s the life of a backup quarterback sometimes. No one probably knows this better than me: I played the position for 15 years with nine organizations.

During the season, the backup quarterback practices less than any other player on the team because the starter needs the reps. People are always shocked: How do you develop a guy if he’s only getting a couple reps at practice? That’s where I learned early on that you have to take this in your own hands.

So at practice, I stood behind the quarterback for every single play that I didn’t take and watched the defense. Where would I throw the ball based on what I saw? After practice, I would grab some of the younger players, and we’d essentially run through the plays without a defense. I’d get used to calling the play in the huddle, breaking the huddle and making sure people got lined up. I think that was huge in my development.

Sometimes, as a play was going on in practice, I would take a drop like I was in the play: Here’s the pressure, I’m moving to the right, there’s the secondary.

How can you get the mental edge? Because you’re not going to get the physical edge.

I get this comment all the time now that I’m retired: “Backup quarterback, good for you, the greatest job in the world.” I know what people think when they say that: that backups have it easy because they don’t have to go out and get hit and have the pressure on them. But I don’t think people understand what that entails, and this situation with Shedeur Sanders brought it to light.

Sometimes the most nerve-racking games were as a backup rather than a starter. When you’re the starter, the level of responsibility you feel is a 24/7/365 responsibility. It’s all you think about.

Browns quarterback Shedeur Sanders had a shaky outing Sunday. (Jason Miller / Getty Images)

When you’re the backup, the week is a little calmer because you’re not feeling that mounting responsibility. But on game day, mentally you are drained after a game because you’re playing the game through your mind; you don’t get to play it through your body. Every snap, I would be somewhere I could see our offense and their defense so I could play the game mentally. After every single play, you immediately look to the quarterback: Is he getting up? Is he getting up slowly? It’s constant. Get ready to go in … nope. Get ready to go in … nope.

When I was the starter, I felt much more involved because after practice, I could come in and watch the practice film and relive what I did. As the backup, I had to relive what someone else did: OK, would I have done that? I probably would have gone here. You make a mental note. On game day, same thing. You have to understand how the game is going without being on the field: We anticipated they were going to play a lot of zone coverage, but today they are playing a lot more man.

In 2019, Andrew Luck abruptly retired from the Colts before the season. I was with the Patriots at the time. Coach Bill Belichick came up to me at the end of training camp and said, “You’re my backup quarterback, but in order to manage this roster, I need to release you and then sign you back after Week 1. I don’t want to lose some of these guys we have to put on IR.”

Then the Colts called. Long story short, I became the backup quarterback to Jacoby Brissett in Indy. I got there literally the Sunday or Monday before the first week of the season. I didn’t know the offense at all.

In Week 9, we played Pittsburgh. I heard the play call over the headset, and it was a quick pass. I thought: There’s no way the quarterback is getting hurt on this play. He’s not going to get hit. Jacoby completed the pass, and then all of a sudden the training staff told me: “Go get ready and warm up.” It just so happened that one of our offensive linemen fell on Jacoby’s ankle, and he was done for the day.

First of all, the amount of adrenaline that hits you all at once pretty much causes you to black out. When I was in Indy, the quarterbacks would get the call sheet for the game on Saturdays. I would go through it and highlight all the plays I was good with. Any play that I wasn’t 100 percent sure I knew what to do or felt good with, I would take a black Sharpie and cross it out. Then I would give that sheet to Nick Sirianni in the event that I had to play.

So in that game, I went up to Sirianni and said, “Get that play sheet out. Don’t call any plays that I’m not comfortable with.”

I threw a touchdown on the first drive and felt good running off the field and then it hit me on the sideline: Oh, s—, it’s go time. I’m going to play the rest of this game, and no one is going to care that I haven’t gotten many reps in practice. They’re only going to care about the results on the field.

You always have to mentally prepare like you’re going to play. I learned during my career I had to fall back on my instincts and preparation. You never know when your moment might come.

— As told to Jayson Jenks