Olson’s faith in Smith didn’t come from stats or practice reps. It came from witnessing resilience — the kind that can’t be charted on a clipboard. “It’s not his arm,” Olson said during a Raiders media session. “It’s his spirit. You can tell when a man’s been humbled by the game — and then comes back with purpose.”

Those words, coming from a coach known for his brutal honesty, caught reporters off guard. Olson has coached elite quarterbacks: Derek Carr, Matthew Stafford, and Jared Goff. But his praise for Geno Smith was more personal.
Back in 2021, Olson had crossed paths with Smith during joint training sessions. Even then, he sensed something burning beneath the surface. “He wasn’t angry,” Olson said, “he was patient. Like he’d been studying something we couldn’t see.”
This offseason, as rumors swirled around the Raiders’ uncertain quarterback situation, Olson revisited that memory. He reached out to Smith — not as a coach trying to recruit, but as a mentor offering perspective. “You’ve been underestimated your whole career,” he told him. “Use that. Not as fuel — as focus.”
Smith took those words to heart. The Seahawks’ veteran responded with one of the most composed seasons of his career, proving critics wrong and solidifying his role as a reliable leader. Olson, now a senior offensive consultant, pointed to that evolution as a model for young Raiders players: “It’s not about being flashy. It’s about staying steady when no one’s watching.”
Social media exploded when Olson’s comments hit the airwaves. Seahawks fans flooded the thread with appreciation. Raiders fans, meanwhile, began wondering if Olson’s words hinted at something more — perhaps admiration that could influence future moves. “Imagine Geno in silver and black,” one fan wrote. “Olson sees something others missed.”
Behind the praise lies a deeper truth: Olson and Smith share a bond rooted in football’s unforgiving cycle. Both men know what it feels like to be written off, then rediscovered. Olson, dismissed after rough years in Jacksonville, rebuilt his coaching identity through patience and study. Smith did the same with his playing career.
When asked why he speaks so highly of a player who’s not even on his roster, Olson smiled. “Because I’ve seen what happens when good men get a second chance,” he said. “Football’s full of talent. But very few have Geno’s persistence.”
The story of Greg Olson’s belief in Geno Smith is less about performance than perspective — a reminder that the NFL isn’t just a game of schemes and stats. It’s a mirror for human resilience.

And as the Raiders’ locker room buzzes with young quarterbacks trying to prove themselves, Olson’s example resonates. “If you want to know what confidence looks like,” one player said, “watch how Coach talks about Geno.”
man who’s seen another man fall, get up, and learn to smile again.
“I don’t think people understand how much this league can break you,” Olson said quietly during a Raiders media session last week. “And how rare it is when someone like Geno figures out how to build himself back.”
The surprising source of Olson’s faith? Not game film. Not scouting reports. But a letter — handwritten, sealed in an envelope, sent by Geno Smith two years ago after Olson had left the Seahawks’ coaching circle.
“Coach, you told me once that peace is stronger than pressure,” the letter read. “You were right. I stopped playing scared.”
That letter has stayed in Olson’s desk ever since. For him, it’s a symbol of what coaching is really about — transformation beyond touchdowns.
When the Raiders hired Olson as an offensive consultant this season, he carried that same belief into Las Vegas. While most conversations centered on schemes, Olson’s focus was character. “Everyone talks about leadership,” he said, “but leadership means surviving what others can’t.”
It’s why his admiration for Geno Smith runs so deep. Once a journeyman, Smith had been mocked as a draft bust, replaced by younger arms, and pushed to the background. Yet somehow, he emerged from it all not bitter, but better.
Olson attributes that to something intangible — faith. “He found his rhythm again because he stopped chasing approval,” Olson said. “He started trusting himself.”
In the NFL, where narratives shift weekly, the story of Geno Smith’s redemption felt cinematic. His breakout season with Seattle didn’t just revive his career; it reframed how coaches like Olson measure success. “We all talk about stats,” Olson reflected. “But the stat I’ll remember is how many people he proved wrong without ever talking back.”
Raiders players have taken notice. During one team meeting, Olson replayed a clip of Smith calmly handling a postgame interview after a comeback win. “That’s grace under fire,” Olson told them. “That’s what confidence looks like when the cameras aren’t chasing you.”
The room was silent. Then, slowly, players nodded — rookies especially. “Coach talks about Geno like he’s family,” one young receiver later said. “It makes you want to fight for your own comeback.”

For Olson, the story of Geno Smith isn’t about one man’s career revival. It’s a metaphor for what the NFL demands from everyone — coaches, players, and fans alike. Resilience. Self-belief. Humility.
He often tells his quarterbacks a line borrowed from the letter Smith wrote: “Peace beats pressure.” It’s become something of a quiet mantra around the Raiders’ facility.
Reporters, of course, love the connection. It’s unexpected — a Raiders coach drawing inspiration from a Seahawks quarterback. But Olson doesn’t see it as strange. “We’re all part of the same story,” he said. “Different teams, same lessons.”
When asked if he thought Smith could ever wear silver and black so