Old School: Why Packers vet Isaiah McDuffie is a linebacker for any era
This Western New York native has grown into the specimen this NFC contender on the brink needs. McDuffie sees this Packers defense taking a huge step, too.
GRAND ISLAND, NY — He doesn’t drink coffee in the morning. He doesn’t chug energy drinks before hurling heavy dumbbells overhead. He refuses to fill his body with caffeine — period — which seems implausible considering how this rugged 25-year-old treats his day job. Isaiah McDuffie travels from Point A to Point B with blatant disregard for his body. This linebacker makes a concerted effort to treat every snap like it’s his last.
“A lot of passion, tenacity,” McDuffie says. “The way I judge myself every time I turn on the tape and I watch myself, I always try to make sure I’m near the ball. I’m either making a tackle or close to it. I want to make sure every time you turn on 58 that he’s flying to the ball.”
So while he loves the food here at Eggsquisite Eats in Western New York, about 15 minutes from downtown Buffalo, McDuffie politely declines a cup of coffee.
There’s no need. He generates his own energy.
This eatery is one of McDuffie’s favorites. It’s a friendly atmosphere. Seated at the booth behind me are senior citizens dissecting current events with opinions baked at approximately 500 degrees. We should all strive to speak so freely into our 80s. Seated at the booth behind McDuffie is an equally blissful little girl who cannot be older than 4. Soon enough, she’s hanging over her seat, desperately trying to capture the attention of this muscular stranger by playfully repeating, “Hi! Hi! Hi!” McDuffie smiles, says hello back. He’s not annoyed in the slightest.
Natural light beams through the windows. On TVs above, talking heads debate NFL free agency. There are options galore on the menu. This day, McDuffie selects two scrambled eggs, wheat toast and home fries with peppers and onions.
A lot has happened in McDuffie’s life since we sat down three years ago. This summer, he’s getting married. This spring, he re-signed with the Green Bay Packers. The special teams ace morphed himself into an indispensable cog in the middle of this defense, accumulating the fifth-most defensive snaps. McDuffie finished with 97 tackles (46 solo), three pass breakups, one forced fumble, three TFLs and a half-sack. He never considered signing with another team, putting pen to paper well before free agency.
Often, it’s the signing with minimal fanfare that makes the maximum impact come January.
McDuffie could be that player because McDuffie is a sharp contrast to his NFL peers.
The modern linebacker is changing. Spread offenses, combined with incessant rules designed to soften the sport, have rolled the red carpet out to finesse linebackers. Last year’s draft series examined a position in crisis and — far back as 2020 — snarling Steelers linebacker Vince Williams recognized the disturbing trend. (“You don’t need to be a tough guy to play football!” he ranted.) Further? The modern NFL psyche is changing. College players should’ve been paid a long time ago but the wild west nature of NIL is objectively tranquilizing the work ethic of many 18-, 19- and 20-year-olds. Coaches see it. Players, too.
All of which makes this 6-foot-1, 227-pounder a welcomed throwback, right down to the full beard and hairline in retreat. We’re all enamored by the mystery prospect this time of year. A wide receiver you didn’t watch at all last fall but now has you chasing down every possible YouTube rabbit hole. Perhaps the player who elevates Green Bay’s to the next level in 2025 is a linebacker who’s been steadily ascending the last four years.
Through sheer labor, the man with anvils for triceps, the son of a high school coaching legend ‘round here has earned the right to take the field Ray Nitschke once roamed.
He takes pride in preserving what everyone loves most about the sport.
McDuffie grew up watching all of the greats on his couch: Mike Singletary, Junior Seau, Ray Lewis, Brian Urlacher with a local touch in Bills linebacker (and Frewsburg, NY native) Shane Conlan. He couldn’t get enough. “It made me want to be great at it,” McDuffie adds. “I’m not there yet, but that’s what I strive to be.” In-between film sessions, Dad would tell Isaiah that nobody worked harder in the weight room than Seau, all the way back to the legend’s USC days… and then McDuffie would rip through a set of push-ups. So. Many. Push-ups.
A relentless motor may sound antiquated. Or cliché. McDuffie is living proof that it matters.
He believes his ascent will only continue and that these 2025 Packers can field one of the best defenses in the NFL.
“That G definitely means something,” McDuffie says. “You always have an opportunity to compete for a Super Bowl when you suit up for Green Bay.”
Once the football season ends, Isaiah McDuffie gives himself two weeks off. That’s all.
Then, it’s back to work. Back to working with John Opfer here in Buffalo. He’s worked with Opfer since his sophomore year of high school because the trainer knows how to take a “beat-up body,” McDuffie says, and put it back together. Critical considering McDuffie treats his 50+ snaps per game as a collection of car wrecks. Opfer specializes in biomechanics, zeroing in on how to “explode out of certain angles.” It’s one thing to intellectually understand where you’re supposed to go as an NFL linebacker, and quite another to get there once you do pull that trigger. Opfer creates such twitchiness.
Big picture, McDuffie metaphorically planted his right foot into the turf and traveled the right direction as a pro.
Two years in, this NFL career easily could’ve faded into obscurity. Patience wears thin. Frustration could easily set in. Players selected 220th overall who play solely on special teams are the most susceptible August cuts, too. Employers flirt with alternatives. Sure enough, Green Bay drafted two players at his position in the top 100 last spring. Yet, there was McDuffie gnawing into a turkey leg on Thanksgiving Night. Eye black splattered on his face, wrist tape covered in grass stains, he was the lone defensive player enjoying the NBC spread after tearing through the Miami Dolphins offense in a 30-17 win. Wide receiver Malik Washington may still feel the sting from this third-and-5 hit with 31 seconds left in the first half.
No, you won’t find empty cans of C4 energy inside his locker but all players striving to excel in this violent profession must enter a dark place… somehow. Packers teammate Sean Rhyan guided us through his process last November. The combination of a Vietnam War relic and a homemade bracelet — “Kill ‘em all” — helps Rhyan flip a switch.
McDuffie, remarkably subdued off the field, also transforms. Before games, he’s superstitious. He absolutely must listen to “three or four” specific songs, sharing two here: Lil Wayne’s “A Milli” and Lil Baby’s “On Me.” As he sits in his locker, rap blarin,’ McDuffie accepts the reality that pain is a guarantee. He knows he must run toward the fight.
“You want to watch something the next day that you’re going to be proud of,” McDuffie says. “I always have that in my mind. Nothing’s worse than waking up after the game — or even going home — and just being like, ‘I left something out there.’ I try to empty the gas tank every time. Give it my all and I can live with the results.”
Central to everything is the work. Always.
Long before he was delving into the world of sports science with Opfer, before his 105 tackles were fifth-best in the nation at Boston College, before his 161 tackles set a Bennett High School record, McDuffie was doing something much simpler. Early as preschool, he was mastering the art of the pushup. This is where the self-discipline began. Steve McDuffie says his son could string together 50 pushups in a row… at 3 ½ years old. Into Isaiah’s youth years, after watching a reel of Singletary clips, he’d drop to all fours for a round of pushups. He’d watch Lewis… then drop to all fours again. Again and again and again, the cycle repeated itself.
Proper technique was a must. On the way down, Isaiah’s chin needed to drop all the way to the floor. On the way up, Isaiah’s arms needed to completely lock out. No half-ass, halfway pushups were permitted. Competitions broke out often between the McDuffie kids — Dad can still hear his son and daughter fighting over what constituted a push-up.
Outside of the house? That’s when the real fun began. Isaiah won his father a lot of money between the age of 6 and 10. When Steve coached at Riverside Academy in Buffalo, he’d throw down the gauntlet. He’d tell assistant coaches on staff that his son could easily do more pushups than them. A wager was placed and Isaiah always won. Eventually, some of the strongest players on the Riverside varsity team would challenge Isaiah.
Steve took his 10-year-old son. An assistant coach took a beefy 17-year-old lineman.
“I would look at ‘Zay’ and I would say, ‘Zay, you got him?’” Steve says. “And Zay would just wink at me.”
With 85 pushups in a row, McDuffie won easily.
Dad’s message growing up was consistent. He told Isaiah repeatedly that all of these push-ups would serve as the foundation to his strength. And after winning those bets, Steve split the loot with his son — with one gentle request: Don’t tell Mom.
Today, Steve estimates that Isaiah can do 120 to 130 straight push-ups.
He’ll train for an hour and 45 minutes with Opfer, then do his own routine at his home gym for two hours and 45 minutes.
“He understands the work ethic behind being great,” Steve McDuffie says. “And Isaiah has always told me, ‘Dad, when I get ready to retire from the NFL, it won’t be because I can’t plan anymore. It’ll be because I don’t want to put in the work to be great anymore.’ That is his mindset. He understands the things that I do in private, I will be rewarded for in public. He understands that ‘I’m going to take two weeks off right after the season and then I’m going to get right back to work. And it’s not two hours of work on my body a day. It’s not three hours of work on my body a day. It’s four to five hours of work on my body per day.’”
All of it creates an NFL linebacker whose No. 1 mission — every Sunday — is to empty that gas tank.
In his mind, there is no other choice. Isaiah McDuffie’s goal is play as hard as possible every play.
“Literally,” he adds. “When you get to the ball-carrier, it’s being as violent as possible. Running to the ball. Just doing your job. A lot of people take that for granted — doing your job at a high level. If that’s special teams, if that’s protecting the punter, just protect the punter. Do your job. Some people take that for granted, but a blocked punt…”
His voice trails off because his memory suddenly races back to his rookie year when Green Bay — the No. 1 seed with the MVP quarterback — lost at Lambeau Field to the San Francisco 49ers as 5.5-point favorites. The score was 13-10. The difference? A blocked punt returned for a touchdown with less than 5 minutes remaining. While McDuffie secured his block on the play, wounds linger. That 2021 Packers team sincerely believed it was destined to win the Super Bowl. (“That was a rough one. That’s definitely a scar.”) The Packers have been the youngest team in the NFL two years in a row and, sure, blissful ignorance has inherent advantages. As Bills GM Brandon Beane told us, there’s value to adding players who devoid of playoff scars.
Still, it’s a balance. McDuffie knows it’s important for a roster to have battle-tested veterans that’ve learned from such miscues — so the gaffe never happens again.
To this day, he believes the Packers would’ve won that ’21 divisional playoff game if not for the blocked punt. Then, they’re hosting an NFC Championship. That split-second was certifiably “devastating.” McDuffie believes the players and coaches who did stick around into ‘22, ‘23 and ‘24 took the loss personal. One play forced the entire Packers team to pay closer attention to the details.
Adds McDuffie: “It definitely helps you be more locked in. Guys who haven’t lived through something like that? Experience definitely helps. Playing in those games. A playoff game, you have to be more… I’m not going to say perfect, but you kind of have to be. Because one play could definitely open up a game. The margin for error is so small. So you’ve got to be more locked in. Everything is so ramped up. If you lose, you’re done.”
Of course, it’s also true that an Aaron Rodgers-piloted offense supplied all of 10 points in this do-or-die moment.
As far as McDuffie is concerned, that should be enough. The mentality he’s trying to spread throughout this current defense is that three points is enough. (“We get a field goal? 3-0. Perfect.”) Words that no doubt sound Portuguese to observers of this QB-centric outfit the last 30 years. Dominant defensive play has been scarce-to-nonexistent through annual playoff runs.
“If you want to be considered one of the greatest defenses to ever do it — and that’s always the goal every year to be a defense that they talk about five, 10 years from now — then that’s the mindset you have to have,” McDuffie says.
Surprise, surprise: the Packers twiddled their thumbs through free agency. All Brian Gutekunst added on defense was nickel back Nate Hobbs. The GM’s bet is that players in-house will take a Year 1-to-Year 2 leap in Jeff Hafley’s defense. McDuffie is the scheme translator. He played for the defensive coordinator back in college at Boston College. What makes this scheme unique, he says, is Hafley’s ability to make “everything look the same” before the snap. The DC is extremely particular with what he wants to present an opposing quarterback. And when the ball’s snapped? The Packers shift into something completely different. On third down, McDuffie knows Hafley wants to unleash “a shit ton of crazy looks.”
Now that everyone has a full offseason to study the tape, the linebacker expects Hafley to wield more exotic looks.
As McDuffie bluntly puts it, the coaches are always available and players are always armed with iPads. (“You can put as much time as you wanted into learning. I feel like you’re responsible.”) He doesn’t view this playbook as overwhelming. The kid who once watched Junior Seau is still studying ‘round the clock. First, he masters defensive calls on flash cards. Once he’s got those down, he draws up plays on the whiteboard. By the time practice begins, he’s comfortable. Green Bay selected a pair of promising rookies in ’24 — Texas A&M’s Edgerrin Cooper and Missouri’s Ty’Ron Hopper. Both could factor into the long-term plans.
Cooper especially flashed rare physical gifts. Quay Walker enters his fourth year. Competition for snaps will be stiff.
Says McDuffie: “Trying to be the best teammate, the best person I could be and working my tail off. My hard work will speak for itself.”
The relationship between defenders is special between the lines.
One conversation comes to mind this day.
A decade ago, I caught up with 49ers linebacker Chris Borland for a piece at Bleacher Report. After one NFL season, the former Wisconsin standout walked away from the sport he loved due to concerns over head trauma. Even then, he admitted football supplies a high no other sport can. On the basketball court, if you fail to execute a proper V-cut, the result is a turnover. Temporary embarrassment for your teammate. But if you’re a middle linebacker and the strong safety forgets to shout “Crack!” the results are catastrophic. A 275-pound tight end clocks you in the jaw. (“I might not eat solid food for eight weeks,” Borland said. “It's a different level of being a good teammate.”)
Nothing topped the backdrop of 80,000 screaming fans at Camp Randall with such responsibility at the forefront of his mind. Borland clearly missed it and was unsure if anything in life could replicate this high.
Relay this conversation to McDuffie here in Grand Island and he nods his head.
He lives for such high-stakes communication at all three levels of a defense.
“You’re that buffer,” McDuffie says. “People don’t really understand just the amount of talking and communication that goes on the field — it’s crazy.”
Anything that’s spotted during the week of prep could show itself before the snap. Beyond the offense’s formation, individual players drop subtle hints. If a wide receiver has his opposite foot up, that’s a giveaway. Body language. Eye movement. If McDuffie sees anything that he knows will trigger a specific play, he shouts it out. One opponent’s screen play from the 2024 season comes to mind. McDuffie warned everyone exactly where the ball was going and it led to a TFL.
No wonder Matt LaFleur loves having McDuffie on the field. The head coach is (very) hard on players. He’ll put you on the spot in a team meeting. And after a loss? There’s a very good chance the entire team — offense, defense, special teams — relives the ugly film as a whole because LaFleur has a global point to drive home. McDuffie prefers this brand of coaching because, again, he’s the son of a coach. But he has also lived firsthand how playoff games are won on the margins. How one mistake costs you.
“You want to be coached,” he says. “You want to learn. You want to be better.”
An attitude that contrasts sharply with where the NIL winds are blowing. Many players haven’t been coached nearly this hard in college because droves of D-I coaches are scared players might tell them to screw off and transfer. Up close, McDuffie sees this change. Some players are clearly more entitled — “not as hungry,” he says. All of that softer coaching in the college ranks makes for an abrupt change in the pros.
It blows McDuffie’s mind that kids can make more money in college than the pros, jumping from school to school. And while college players deserve compensation, McDuffie believes the transfer portal is damaging the virtue of loyalty. And, in turn, perseverance. He took immense pride in playing at BC. Hard times are a guarantee. A benching. An injury. Clashing with a coach. This juncture of life molds boys into men. McDuffie tore his ACL in college and knows the ensuing 10-month rehab sharpened his mentality.
Into the pros, McDuffie was forced to stay patient and prepared like a starter. He immersed himself in every gameplan, knowing full well he wasn’t going to be a factor on Sunday. That takes a different level of discipline.
“You’ve got to be ready,” he says. “I never wanted to be in a situation where I got in a game and I was just swimming. I wanted to be able to go in there and excel. Put out good tape, make some plays, and be like, ‘Alright, I can could do this.’ Show that they could trust me in these situations. … I was a broken toenail away from going in there.”
Other linebackers got the bag this spring — Terrel Bernard (four years, $50M), Nick Bolton (three years, $45M) and Zack Baun (three years, $51M) all cashed in. The NFL’s valuing defensive players in the eye of the storm. If he was willing to dip his toes into free agency, McDuffie might’ve been able to earn more elsewhere. He doesn’t care. He already owns a house. He doesn’t live an extravagant life. McDuffie plans to save up for his wedding, stay on this track and get another shot at a pay day in the future.
Even though he’s one of the longest-tenured players on the team, 2025 feels like the start of something to McDuffie. That’s why he swiftly signed a two-year, $8 million deal before free agency began.
“I know every year we have an opportunity to compete for the Super Bowl,” he says. “That’s always the expectation. A lot of teams, it’s ‘Let’s just get to the playoffs.’ But I feel like — with the Packers — it’s ‘Let’s try to win this thing.’ … I knew where I wanted to be.”
Maybe the key to these Packers getting over the title hump isn’t a shiny new piece from another team.
Rather, a familiar face churning out 100+ push-ups at a time.
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Love Isiah! Great article, Ty!