I. A New Sound at Halas Hall
It’s 7:02 a.m. inside the Bears’ defensive meeting room at Halas Hall, and the noise is unmistakable — laughter. Not nervous chuckles or locker-room banter, but real, unguarded laughter.
Defensive end Trevis Gipson leans back in his chair, hoodie up, grin wide, listening as defensive coordinator Eric Washington breaks down film from last week’s OTA scrimmage.
“See this?” Washington says, pointing to the projector. “That’s how you finish through the echo of the whistle!”
On screen, Gipson collapses the edge, swats at the ball, and dives through contact to force a fumble.
The room erupts — claps, shouts, the kind of energy that’s been missing from Chicago’s defense since the early Khalil Mack years.
“That’s what it’s supposed to look like,” Washington says.
Gipson just smiles. “Feels good, Coach,” he replies. “Feels like we’re back.”
II. The Reclamation of a Defender
For Trevis Gipson, this offseason has been more than just a reset — it’s been redemption.
The former fifth-round pick out of Tulsa has lived the full emotional arc of a player trying to carve a place in Chicago’s proud defensive lineage. He’s flashed brilliance — seven sacks in 2021 — and he’s endured frustration, watching his snap count dip as schemes changed and opportunities vanished.
“It’s humbling,” Gipson admits. “You go from feeling like the next big thing to just trying to get back on the field. That tests you.”
Now, with a fresh coaching voice in Washington and a revitalized unit built around physicality and purpose, Gipson’s tone has shifted. He’s not just motivated. He’s excited — because for the first time in years, the Bears’ defense finally feels like itself again.
III. The Weight of History
No city carries defensive heritage quite like Chicago. From Butkus to Singletary to Urlacher to Mack, the Bears’ brand has always been forged in violence and discipline.
“Defense is the soul of this place,” said head coach Matt Eberflus, who took over play-calling again this offseason. “You don’t just play for stats here — you play for legacy.”
That legacy, however, has been bruised in recent years. The 2022 Bears finished near the bottom in nearly every defensive category. Opponents imposed their will at Soldier Field, and fans who once expected dominance started expecting damage control.
“It hurt,” Gipson said. “Every week, you’d hear people say, ‘This isn’t the Bears defense we grew up on.’ And honestly, they were right.”
But change has come, slowly and deliberately.
IV. Eric Washington’s Arrival
The hire of defensive coordinator Eric Washington may prove to be the turning point.
A veteran coach with stints in Buffalo and Carolina, Washington’s defensive philosophy is both technical and emotional: precision through passion.
“Coach Washington came in talking about details with fire,” Gipson said. “Every drill has a purpose. Every rep is personal. He makes you love the grind again.”
In Washington’s system, Gipson’s skill set — long, explosive, versatile — is being maximized. The defense is emphasizing movement and gap integrity, allowing edge rushers to attack without hesitation.
“He doesn’t want robots,” Gipson said. “He wants hunters.”
V. The Montez Sweat Effect
The trade for Montez Sweat last season changed everything.
At 6-foot-6 and 260 pounds, Sweat isn’t just a pass rusher — he’s a gravitational force. His arrival gave the Bears the elite edge presence they’d lacked since Mack’s departure, and his leadership has quietly elevated everyone around him.
“Montez came in and set the tone,” Gipson said. “He doesn’t talk a lot, but when he does, you listen. He’ll pull you aside and say, ‘We’re about to wreck this play,’ and you believe him.”
On film, Sweat’s presence commands double teams, freeing Gipson for one-on-one opportunities.
“That’s the thing people don’t see,” Gipson said. “It’s not just about sacks. It’s how his energy affects the whole line. It’s contagious.”
VI. A Defensive Line Reborn
The Bears’ front four — once the team’s Achilles’ heel — is suddenly its backbone.
Alongside Sweat and Gipson, the group now features rising stars like Gervon Dexter Sr., Zacch Pickens, and Andrew Billings, forming a rotation built on depth and relentless pursuit.
“We’re starting to look like those old Bears tapes,” said defensive tackle Dexter, referencing the iconic 1985 film reels. “Everybody flying to the ball, everybody celebrating together. That’s the culture.”
For Gipson, that culture is oxygen.
“When you see 10 other guys running to the ball like their lives depend on it,” he said, “you can’t jog. You can’t coast. You’ve got to match that.”
VII. The Return of Accountability
One of Washington’s first moves was reinstating something the Bears hadn’t used since the Lovie Smith era — the “Hustle Board.”
Every practice snap is graded. Every loaf — every half-speed moment — is displayed for everyone to see.
“Your name goes up there if you coast,” Gipson laughed. “No hiding.”
It’s uncomfortable at first, but Gipson swears by it.
“That board keeps us honest. You see your name, and it hits you — ‘I can’t let my brothers down like that again.’”
That culture of accountability has spread beyond the defense. During minicamp, Gipson saw wide receiver D.J. Moore chasing down an interception 60 yards downfield.
“When offense buys in like that,” he said, “you know it’s real.”
VIII. The Science Behind the Excitement
Ask Gipson what specifically excites him, and he starts talking in technical terms.
“It’s the pre-snap disguises,” he said. “We’re moving more, shifting fronts, showing blitz from depth. It’s creative — it keeps offenses guessing again.”
Under Washington and Eberflus, Chicago is blending zone-match coverage with delayed pressure, giving Gipson freedom to stunt or loop inside.
“Last year, we were reading too much,” he said. “Now, we’re reacting. You feel it — it’s faster, freer.”
Advanced metrics confirm it: the Bears’ defense ranked top-five in pressure rate over the final six weeks of 2024 after adding Sweat and tweaking their schemes.
“That’s not a fluke,” Gipson said. “That’s us finding our identity.”
IX. The Brotherhood Factor
But beyond playbooks and alignments, the biggest change is relational.
“This defense feels like family again,” Gipson said. “We talk about life, not just football.”
Every Thursday, the unit holds a players-only dinner — no coaches, no media. They eat, laugh, and go around the table sharing one personal story from the week.
“One time, ‘Vondre [Campbell] told us about something he’s been through off the field,” Gipson recalled. “By the end, everybody was nodding. It’s not about X’s and O’s. It’s trust.”
And trust, Gipson insists, is what fuels excitement.
“When you trust the guy next to you, you can play reckless — in a good way. You stop worrying about mistakes and start chasing greatness.”
