years crossing the country, working coaching jobs at Eastern Kentucky, New Mexico Highlands University, and Morehead State. They revered his “beautiful football mind.” And they owed him: most of them were Jets because of him. Many of them vacationed with him in the summer at a beach house he rented on North Carolina’s Outer Banks, and all could list substantial good turns he’d quietly done for them and others. But as the coaches talked in Indianapolis, they turned the conversation to a more somber topic: their worry that Ryan’s growing renown was distracting him from football. He had become so adept at the off-field, face-of-the-franchise aspects of the head-coaching job that he seemed to feel obligated to “always be the show” wherever he went. Just now had comeword that he was going to appear with Tannenbaum on the TV program CSI: NY. Ryan seemed less focused on the team; he had a little less warmth, a distanced quality. The coaches felt Ryan had worked so hard for so many years, he deserved his moment in the sun. Nonetheless, he hadn’t won anything yet, and neither had the coaching staff. It was only February, only the Combine, but the coaches were wary.

Another source of unease was the one defensive coach who hadn’t made the trip to Indianapolis—Jeff Weeks. Weeks was Ryan’s best friend from college, a man Ryan cared so much for that he called him his other twin. As the coaches knew firsthand, there was nothing Ryan wouldn’t do for Weeks.

After college, Weeks had spent