Olson watched from the sideline, unseen. What he saw wasn’t just repetition — it was obsession. “That’s when I knew,” he later said, “he’s not just here to survive; he’s here to take back what football took from him.”
For years, Geno Smith’s name had become shorthand for “what could’ve been.” Once a second-round pick with New York-sized expectations, he’d faded into backup roles, shuffling between sidelines. Critics wrote him off, but those who’d worked with him — Olson among them — saw something different: a man who’d stopped chasing perfection and started chasing peace.
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.”
