August 23, 2011 | Tyler Dunne | Journal Sentinel
(photo by Tom Lynn) After three seasons as a backup, Desmond Bishop was inserted in the starting lineup in October.
Green Bay – Maybe it was difficult to tell on the Jumbotron, but the Green Bay Packers’ Desmond Bishop literally scooped up dirt during his LeBron-esque entrance to Lambeau Field on Friday night. When his name was called over the loud speaker, Bishop slapped dirt into the air.
No worries. Bishop promises this ritual runs deeper than that of King James.
“It’s from ‘Gladiator,’ too,” Bishop said. “Whenever he’d fight, he’d pick up the dirt and smell it.”
That’s how Bishop wants people to view him – as a gladiator, a perennial Pro Bowl pick, a transcendent player. It took three years as a frustrated special-teamer. But, finally, he gets that chance.
The warm-and-fuzzy storyline is that Bishop is better for waiting. He paid his dues, learned from his elders and reaped the rewards with a golf ball-sized Super Bowl ring. Not to mention that four-year, $19 million contract he signed in January.
The truth is, though, Bishop isn’t waving any pom-poms. The inside linebacker wants to be known as one of the game’s greatest at the position and not just in this lifetime.
Waiting three years slowed that process.
“I felt like I was ready the first day in 2007 as a rookie,” Bishop said. “I was ready to go. I lost a few years I can never get back. It’s an individual, selfish thing because at the end of the day, it’s all about the team. But I also missed three years of stats that I can never get back.
“My overall goal coming into the NFL was to be up there in stats and be mentioned as one of the best. It’s definitely going to be a harder road to go, but it is what it is.”
He’s 27 years old. From here on, Bishop is gunning for stardom.
“There’s definitely enough time,” Bishop said. “I just have to take advantage of every opportunity.”
His stranglehold on the job was almost immediate last season. After three full seasons as a backup, Bishop was inserted in the starting lineup when veteran Nick Barnett went down with a wrist injury in October.
In a Week 7 win over the Minnesota Vikings – thrust into one of the loudest games ever at Lambeau Field – Bishop picked off Brett Favre and returned it for a touchdown. For the season, he finished with 103 tackles, three sacks, two forced fumbles and eight pass breakups.
And in the Super Bowl, Bishop was the one that scooped up the momentum-changing fumble forced by Clay Matthews and Ryan Pickett in the second half.
Growing up, Bishop watched film of Dick Butkus, Ken Norton Jr. and Ray Lewis. He convinced himself that he’d reach their stratosphere. No ifs, no ands, no buts. Bishop never viewed himself as the junior college player or the sixth-round draft pick. He was a star.
So, of course, those first three years in the NFL were brutal. Bishop started one game at linebacker. He had more tackles on special teams (49) than at linebacker (47). One year, the Packers reached the NFC Championship Game. The next, they went 6-10. And in 2009, they were eliminated in a crushing wild-card game.
In a way, Bishop was numb to the ups and downs. He needed to play.
“It didn’t matter if we were winning or losing,” Bishop said. “I wanted to be out there. I wanted to be in.”
His chance seemed to come in 2008. Barnett went down with a torn anterior cruciate ligament in Week 10. But what did coaches do? They plugged Brandon Chillar in next to A.J. Hawk.
“When they didn’t put me in, I didn’t know what to do,” Bishop admitted.
There was only one thing he could do – settle for the scout team. It’s easy to blow those in-season practices off. Many backups “absolutely” coast through scout team, Bishop said. He’d know. He was one of them.
Everything changed one practice when Bishop lackadaisically jogged off the field. Standing nearby, inside linebackers coach Winston Moss snapped. There was never a man-to-man meeting behind closed doors. Moss, an NFL veteran of 11 years, blistered Bishop right there.
“He basically just told me, ‘Do it or go home,’ ” Bishop said.
On a dime, Bishop started taking practice seriously. Back in his junior college days, before playing at the University of California, Bishop was a runaway freight train at practice. City College of San Francisco head coach George Rush needed to pull the reins on Bishop daily.
“For two reasons,” Rush said. “It wasn’t a live drill, but he’s coming at full blast. You want to protect the guy he’s chasing as well as him. He has a rare passion for the game.”
That Bishop – the monster, the self-righteous one destined to be a legend – resurfaced in Year 3 with the Packers.
His competitiveness was back. Bishop brushed away defensive backs to cover wide receivers Donald Driver and Greg Jennings himself.
His rage was channeled. Bishop jawed with tight end Jermichael Finley regularly. Whenever receivers did beat Bishop, cornerback Jarrett Bush says he’d “throw temper tantrums.”
And most of all, his focus was back. Each week, Bishop embraced the scout team. He asked linemen how they wanted him to pursue stretch plays. He asked quarterbacks how they wanted him to move. Bishop relished playing the role of E.J. Henderson, Stewart Bradley, Lance Briggs. An archaeologist, excavating various parts of each player’s game, Bishop improved.
“He’ll say, ‘If this gives an offensive guy trouble, I’ll take that and incorporate parts I need into my skill set,’ ” Moss said.
Those Chicago Bears weeks were particularly helpful. Playing the role of Briggs in Chicago’s Cover 2 scheme forced to Bishop to act on instinct. Playing linebacker, Bishop said, is about “not being afraid to be great.” Briggs freelances from assignments often, so Bishop started, too.
Bishop didn’t play much in his third season. But that’s when he turned the corner.
“Not just being another guy on the scout team,” Bishop said. “I just tried to mimic that real-game speed so when it got to the game time, and I started playing these other teams, I was like, ‘Pshh, I played against the best offense every day.’ ”
As Moss said, Bishop needed to do something.
“You can’t internalize that stuff,” Moss said. “You have to turn it into a positive. He was able to do that. He’s gone through the fire. He’s been frustrated. Going through all of that made him better.”
The lockout this past off-season gave Bishop a chance to work on his movie script. He’s 75% to 80% done with it. Without divulging too much, he said it’s a sports movie about an athlete who overcomes obstacles in life. Sports serve as the protagonist’s outlet.
No, the movie has nothing to do with Bishop’s life. There’s no parallel here. That’d be impossible. As far as Bishop is concerned, the scroll of opening credits just finished on his personal movie in his fourth season. Those first three years were a wash, a frustrating blur of coverage units.
Now, he’s in Act 1, Scene 1. And his goal hasn’t changed.
“Whether it was the NFL, college, Pop Warner, whatever it was,” Bishop said, “I’ve had that drive to want to be the best.”
