Around the NFL, the Geno–Pickett contrast has become a talking point in front offices.
Can you rebuild a quarterback’s confidence once it’s broken? Can you salvage one before it breaks?

The Raiders’ staff believe both answers are yes — but only with alignment.

“You can’t coach fear,” said offensive coordinator Mike Kafka. “You coach preparation. And that takes time.”

It’s the same philosophy Las Vegas applies to its own rebuild. Aidan O’Connell isn’t Geno Smith — not yet — but he’s being given the runway Geno never had early on.

“People said Geno was a career backup,” Carroll said. “Now they’re saying Aidan’s too raw. Same story, different chapter. We’ll see.”

XIV. Inside the Locker Room — Film Meets Empathy

The Raiders’ defense finished its final walkthrough before flying to Seattle.
In the corner of the locker room, Moehrig and Hobbs debated which version of Geno Smith they’d see — the calm distributor or the improviser who attacks deep.

“Doesn’t matter,” Moehrig said, smiling. “We’re ready for both.”

Across the room, Aidan O’Connell listened quietly to Crosby describe what it’s like to face relentless criticism early in your career.
“Everybody doubts you until they can’t anymore,” Crosby told him. “Geno’s proof. Use that.”

That kind of peer mentorship has become a trademark of Carroll’s Raiders — tough lessons, soft hearts.

XV. League-Wide Respect for Geno’s Arc

Even rival players admit Geno Smith’s story has reshaped how they view quarterback careers.

“You can’t give up on talent just because it’s messy early,” said Chiefs safety Justin Reid. “If more teams had Seattle’s patience, we’d see more Genos and fewer busts.”

Steelers veteran Cameron Heyward echoed the sentiment: “We’ve got to protect Kenny long enough to let him become what Geno became.”

The NFL moves fast, but Geno’s second act is a slow burn that’s changing perceptions.

XVI. The Pickett Debate in Pittsburgh

In Pittsburgh, the conversation surrounding Pickett has turned philosophical.
Is he the next late bloomer — or a casualty of impatience?

Raiders defensive assistant Patrick Graham, who spent years coaching in the NFC East, put it plainly:
“You can’t evaluate quarterbacks like microwaves. You’ve got to evaluate them like oak trees.”

That’s the message Carroll hopes the league hears too.

“Quarterbacks grow when they’re nurtured,” he said. “You can’t scream them into greatness.”

XVII. The Raiders’ Internal Reflection

As much as the Raiders studied Geno and Pickett, they also saw their own reflection — a franchise long caught between eras, searching for stability at the most important position in sports.

From Derek Carr’s exit to the uncertainty of post-Rodgers and post-Brady NFL parity, Las Vegas has been learning what patience really means.

Now, under Carroll, patience has become strategy.

“We’re building something sustainable,” Carroll said. “And when you build that, you stop chasing quick fixes. You start developing people.”

XVIII. The Week That Defined a Philosophy

The Raiders split those back-to-back games — beating Pickett’s Steelers but falling short against Geno’s Seahawks.

Yet inside the locker room, it didn’t feel like contrast. It felt like confirmation.

They saw in Geno what maturity looks like when a franchise gives its quarterback full faith.
They saw in Pickett what happens when that faith wavers.

And they saw in themselves the roadmap — one built on belief, repetition, and resilience.

XIX. The Bigger Picture: What the NFL Can Learn

If the Raiders’ honest take on the Geno–Pickett dichotomy proves anything, it’s this: development requires courage.

It’s easy to bench, harder to believe.
Easy to scapegoat, harder to steady.
Easy to chase “the next guy,” harder to fix the one you have.

Carroll has lived both sides — the believer in Geno Smith, the builder of new faith in O’Connell.

“Quarterbacks are mirrors,” he said. “They reflect the patience of the people around them.”

XX. Epilogue: The Lesson Lingers

After practice, the Raiders locker room emptied slowly. Carroll lingered near the doorway, talking quietly with O’Connell and Crosby.
Someone asked if Geno’s story would’ve been different had he stayed in New York instead of finding redemption in Seattle.

Carroll smiled.

“Everybody’s got a second chapter,” he said. “Some just take longer to write.”

He paused, glancing at his players.

“That’s why you never stop believing — in them or in yourself. Because one day, that patience pays off. Geno proved it. Pickett still can.”

The room fell silent, then a few nods rippled through the air — the kind of nods that come from men who understand that, in football as in life, honesty isn’t about criticism. It’s about clarity.