Southern Comfort: Patriots' gator-huntin' rookie Will Campbell is 1 of 1
Most important player in Super Bowl LX? That'd be the New England Patriots' left tackle who'd die for Drake Maye.
SANTA CLARA, Calif. — He hates cats. Back in high school, at his buddy’s house, a cat jumped out of nowhere in the pitch black and bit him in the leg. It was the middle of the night and Will Campbell didn’t exactly enjoy the feeling of those fangs in his flesh, so he booted the feline as far as he could.
He isn’t quite sure if the cat’s still alive.
“Hopefully not,” he says.
He has never watched a soccer game in his life. He has hunted for alligator with cast members from “Swamp People.” Whenever Campbell got out of line as a kid, his father didn’t hesitate to unloop the belt. (“If that’s what needed to be done.”) He’s thankful for that corporal punishment. Campbell assures he deserved it.
Of course, the last time America heard from this Monroe, La., native in the slow, southern drawl was on draft night last spring. Through tears, Campbell vowed to “fight and die” to protect Drake Maye. Now, he’ll get that chance with the entire world watching. When the New England Patriots face the Seattle Seahawks at Levi’s Stadium, the most important player on the field is this 6-foot-6, 319-pound left tackle.
A steep challenge.
But there’s also no one in this year’s title game quite like Will Campbell.
Go Long is your home for longform in pro football.
In most ways, he’s your typical rookie lineman. Campbell just turned 22 years old in January. These banshees howling off the edge have been a completely different beast. When injury adversity struck, he could’ve gone into a shell. On Nov. 23, Campbell was carted off the field with an MCL injury. Towel draped over his head, he looked like a man in total shock. Campbell landed on IR, took five weeks off and returned in Week 18. Against the Chargers and Texans, he was responsible for four sacks and 10 pressures. But in the team’s AFC Championship win over Denver — facing star Nick Bonitto — Campbell surrendered only one pressure. Campbell finally felt like himself again.
The kid who tore off his shirt to chug a beer at a Boston Celtics game is not sculpted like offensive tackles past drafted in the top 5. The great debate before the draft was whether he possessed long enough arms to hold up in the pros. They measured at 32 5/8 inches. His hands are 9 ½ inches. Less than ideal. New England needs Campbell to have the game of his life against the Seahawks’ carnivores.
The Patriots can draw hope in that Campbell — to his core — is anything but typical.
His father Brian “Bull” Campbell played college football at East Texas State University. A farmer, he’s been telling his boys for years that you’re either the “hammer” or “nail” in life. Words that Will took to heart. He played pickup ball with neighborhood kids across his street who were five years older. A running back in his early days, Campbell describes himself as a Jerome Bettis Jr. at running back through elementary school. He towered over peers. Whenever the family traveled to baseball tournaments, opposing parents would complain that Campbell was too old. Mom started bringing his birth certificate in her purse as proof.
On the football field? Peers attempted to tackle Campbell at their own risk.
“I was just bigger and faster than everybody,” he says. “I really was just trying to kill kids. And we had a really good team. I think from my elementary team, we had like seven dudes that eventually signed D-I — from a small town. Which was pretty cool. We beat up on some people basically every year.”
Dad was a tough, blue-collar guy. Dad’s Dad was in the Army. So, yes, this home was built on structure, discipline, rules. (“He didn’t play.”) Whenever Campbell got into trouble at school, he knew trouble was waiting for him at home.
“I mean, he wasn’t just going to be like, ‘It’s OK, buddy. Don’t do it again,’” Campbell says. “He was going to have to make sure I didn’t do it again.”
Granted, this is a different generation. I was spanked back in the day but tell Campbell that I do not plan on doing the same with our three kids. Times change. It’s 2026.
He jumps in.
“You probably should spank them,” he says. “I’m going to spank my kids.”
10-4, Will.
Something about this upbringing worked. That big kid continued to grow… and eat… and grow into a five-star recruit at Neville High School. All along, Will Campbell has always been the undisputed alpha male in the room. Stories are in high supply. Neville’s offensive line coach, Chad Johnson, recalls the time he wanted his crew to hop on Google Classroom to vote on a group nickname. A handful of options were on the table: “Swamp Dogs,” “Bad Boys,” etc. But the moment “Forsythe Freak Nasties” was presented as an option, Campbell spoke up. Neville is located on Forsythe Avenue in Monroe. Campbell sent a group text to politely inform everybody that there would be no vote. “It’s fucking Forsythe Freak Nasties,” he told them. “End of discussion.”
That was 2019. The nickname, “FFN” for short, has stuck ever since.
He backed up the name, too. As a senior — his LSU future secured — Campbell suffered a throbbing groin injury. Only rest would make this feel better. Coaches instructed Campbell to skip the second round of the playoffs, hoping a little time off would help him heal up in time for the state championship. Campbell was worried. “You think we’re going to be OK?” he asked. Johnson assured him they’d find a way to get the win.
Campbell could barely run on the injury.
“It was bothering him,” Johnson adds. “It’s a nagging where it just doesn’t ever feel better. The only way to get it better is to rest up.”
From the sidelines, Campbell watched on in his joggers and he didn’t like what he saw. The game was too close for comfort.
Neville trailed by a point at halftime. Enough was enough.
Up in the press box, Johnson heard on the headset that Campbell had sprinted off toward the team bus. Unbeknownst to him, the 12th-grader brought his equipment with him just in case. Somehow, Campbell convinced the team doctor he could play. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Johnson asked.
The team made sure it was OK with Campbell’s parents up in the stands, and No. 66 returned to the field. His groin ached with every step. Most all highly touted recruits don’t even think about playing — especially when the final decision’s been made before kickoff. But Campbell couldn’t live with the guilt of not helping his friends in an elimination game his final season.
On the game-winning drive, Neville lined up Campbell next to their other SEC-bound lineman Lance Heard.
“We put both of them big sumbitches beside each other,” Johnson says, “and just drove down the field to win the game. He was a legend around here after that.”
That viral video of Campbell chugging a beer in the pros surprised Johnson because — back in high school — the five-star recruit was the one who didn’t drink. Oh, he’d attend parties. But Campbell was usually the one standing outside of the house, arms crossed, serving as a pseudo bouncer. He was a protector. He kept an eye on his friends to make sure nobody got hurt or did something they’d regret.
“He never backed down from anything or ever showed any uncertainty,” says Johnson. “I don't have any worry at all about him because he never backs down from anything. And he’s learning. I think he's going to be a lot better in the Super Bowl than he was two weeks ago just because he’s going to do whatever it takes to work on what he needs to work on.
“A real good person, good kid that's going to work his ass off to do whatever it takes.”
At LSU, he became a consensus All-American after allowing only five sacks in 2,553 collegiate snaps. Head coach Brian Kelly once said Campbell never made the same mistake twice. Teach him one thing, and it stuck. One year after selecting Maye as their franchise quarterback, the Patriots found the man to protect him.
Head coach Mike Vrabel was sold on Campbell during a private workout in which he brought his own blocking pads and crashed into the prospect 1 on 1.
It was love at first sight when Campbell knocked his future boss on his ass.
“I knew I had to make a statement.” Campbell says. “I did.”
Vrabel could physically feel Campbell’s power. His punch. In that moment, the coach knew the LSU tackle would be his guy at No. 4 overall and Campbell knew he wanted to play for a coach who’d mix it up. If this football thing doesn’t work, Campbell could probably make bank doing voiceovers. His deep, baritone, sloooowwww dialect is unlike any other on this roster. But as offensive line coach Doug Marrone notes, “don’t let the slow talk fool you.” There’s always substance to his message.
Campbell did not open up to teammates and coaches initially. Over time, everyone got to see his unique personality.
One way Vrabel pulled it out of him is by forcing Campbell to speak in front of the entire team each Friday. He’s essentially the team’s official anchorman. Campbell details the weather report for Sunday, shares what the Patriots players will be eating for lunch after practice, discusses any community events players have going on… and there’s a comedic flair. A punchline. Zingers always in the holster.
His delivery is exceptionally dry. Think: Norm Macdonald.
Pro football is a high-pressure, no-sleep, go-go-go profession by nature. Campbell’s Weekend Update-like address lightens the mood each week.
“They’re all Rated-R and in-house,” Campbell says, “so I cannot share.”
Chalk it up as another one of Vrabel’s masterful chess moves behind the scenes. Campbell fully busted out of his shell.
Cats are no friend of his and he’ll never subject himself to soccer, but he’s Louisiana to the bone. Most all spare time is spent hunting and fishing. You name it, he shoots it. Deer, turkey, duck and, of course, gator. He’s hunted in the bayou with people from the hit show, “Swamp People.” Last year, he was right on Troy Landry’s property hunting frogs. He’s been out on the swamp with Jeromy Pruitt, too. Marrone is skeptical. He wonders if Campbell is merely hanging a piece of chicken five feet above water. I agree. Swamp People did seem a pinch exaggerated.
Campbell pushes back.
“It’s hard,” he says. “You’ve got to fight ‘em on the line. That’s not easy because they’re big.”
Before the injury, Campbell was a steady presence on Maye’s blind side. After the injury, criticism intensified through the Patriots’ first two playoff wins. He didn’t hold back. “I don’t give a shit what anyone says,” he said a few days after the Patriots’ win over the Chargers. “It’s easy to type behind a Twitter account that is fake.” He cited “two or three plays” he wanted back against $300 million in defensive ends.
A fair rebuttal. Whereas defensive linemen shuttle in and out of the game to stay fresh, a left tackle plays 60 of 60 snaps. It doesn’t matter if you’re perfect on 59 of those snaps. One mistake, one whiff has the potential to completely wreck a game.
Relay this harsh reality to Campbell and he repeats that he does not care what’s said about him.
To Campbell, one quote from the Patriots’ quarterback proved prescient. The quarterback said once that you should never take criticism from someone you’d never ask advice from.
“The only opinions that matters are the people that are inside 1 Patriot Place,” Campbell says. “Inside that place. Nobody else matters. Not even my Mom’s opinion. My Dad’s opinion does not matter. It’s only the people that are in this building wearing a Patriots jersey and the guys that have a lanyard around their neck that says a coach.”
Ideally, the Patriots can let Campbell handle his business 1 on 1. Offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels would much rather use backs and tight ends in the passing game than chipping defenders. Seattle finished with 47 sacks and 122 QB hits in the regular season. Seattle’s D allowed the fewest yards per play (4.6), while also ranking sixth with 25 turnovers.
There isn’t a weak link on Mike Macdonald’s front. He even has one defensive lineman (Leonard Williams) whose nickname is “Big Cat.”
Uh-oh.
The Seahawks will undoubtedly flood pressure directly at Campbell in such a high-stakes environment.
“He’s very intense,” Marrone says. “He is an intense, fired-up guy who wants to perform at the highest level and when he makes a mistake, he’s very, very hard on himself. He’s going to correct it right away. So I think as a coach, you appreciate that. You don’t want someone to make a mistake and just be like, ‘Ah, I’ll get it. Don’t worry about it.’ He gets pissed. That’s a good trait he has.”
Adds guard Ben Brown: “Will’s done a phenomenal job this year. He’s played some of the best of the best this year. And he’s been locked in every single game.”
Campbell claims he has not even thought about Sunday night and that all he cares about is finishing these questions and heading into meetings.
Yet, there will be more than 125 million people watching this game on Sunday.
Not an easy proposition.
He doesn’t hesitate for one second.
“Nothing,” he says, “is easy in life.”
maybe if he wasn’t abused as a child he wouldn’t have had the worst single left tackle performance in super bowl history. Just a thought.
Love him. Gutting thru a knee injury facing a gauntlet in the postseason. Sunday will not be easy but the future remains bright.