That guy is going to be a superstar: Meet Matt Daniels, the Vikings special teams coach

One day in 2014, Matt Daniels, a young defensive back and special teams contributor for the then-St. Louis Rams, stepped into Les Snead’s office. Daniels knew the topic of the meeting. The Rams were cutting down their roster. Daniels had been on the fringe.

Daniels expected Snead, the Rams’ general manager, to say that the team was releasing him. Snead did. Daniels did not expect Snead to stop him in his tracks with his next question: Would Daniels entertain quitting football and immediately start working for the team?

“I think you could be the next great GM or head coach in this league,” Daniels remembers Snead saying.

Daniels was taken aback.

Quit football? In my mid-20s? Having only been in the league for three seasons?

Daniels had already overcome two grueling injuries. He tore his ACL during a game in London his rookie year. The next season, he broke his tibia and fibula and dislocated his ankle in a game in Atlanta. The injuries propelled Daniels into an introspective state, and that deep thought prepared him for life after his playing days.

The key word there? After his playing days. He was not finished.

“I’m, like, ‘Les, you’re silly,’” Daniels says now. He’s sitting outside the TCO Performance Center in a gold Minnesota Vikings hoodie. The wind whips at the yellow goalpost on the field in front of him. This story is an interesting precursor to how, at age 33, he has ascended to the role of coordinator for one of the best special teams units in the NFL.

The Vikings rank in the top 10 in most special teams statistical categories: expected points added (No. 3), average starting field position (No. 2), average starting field position against (No. 4) and more. Ben Kotwica, a coach in the NFL for 15 years, assists Daniels. Players such as C.J. Ham, Josh Metellus, Kris Boyd and others make the plays on the field. But ask them about the unit, and each will mention the impact of Daniels, the man they call “Hat.”

“He brings a lot of good energy to the meeting room,” Ham says. “A lot of times, we sit back, have fun, relax and be ourselves. That’s a testament to who he is.”

Who Daniels is, according to friends, former teammates and coaches, is who he was shaped to be: a magnetic leader who is guided by passion.

"We're going to be a team that has a simple approach but an aggressive mindset. We're always going to be on the attack." – Special Teams Coordinator Matt Daniels pic.twitter.com/n5WLPDkwPn

— Minnesota Vikings (@Vikings) February 24, 2022

Daniels is asked about his first football memory. Seconds later, he is mimicking his young self, doing jumping jacks.

“One,” he says, lifting his arms. “Two,” he says, raising them above his head. “Three.”

In the fourth grade, his father, Bruce, who loved football dearly, suggested Matt play football. Young Matt preferred basketball. He wanted to be the next Michael Jordan. But because of his father’s suggestion, he agreed to give the gridiron a try.

He wore full pads on the first day of practice at Flat Shoals Park in College Park, Ga. The July heat was miserable. The workout was worse. First were pushups. Then jumping jacks. Then ab exercises. Daniels started crying. He walked off the field.

His father, who was present, asked if he was done. Daniels said yes. They drove home.

Later that night, Bruce entered Matt’s room.

“Matthew,” he said, “as much as you hated being out there, I can’t let you quit. I just can’t. I think it’ll be good if you give it another try.”

Matt listened to his father.

“All right,” he responded. “If that’s what you want me to do, I’ll go back out there.”

They returned to the park the next day. He completed the warmup. Next up was the Oklahoma drill. He observed, nervously attempting to figure out which kid he’d match up against.

Finally, a coach whistled for him to take his position. Another whistle signaled for him to stand up and attempt to run his counterpart over.

“I get up,” he says. “And I meet this guy. Pow! Huge collision. I kid you not. The kid that I hit did a somersault. A backflip. I’m on my feet looking down at this kid. I ran over him. The coaches are going crazy. At that instant, after I ran over this kid, I’m like, ‘Football! I f—ing love this. This is f—ing awesome.’

“From that point on, it just took off.”

Duke University gave Daniels his first scholarship offer when he was a junior in high school. Daniels did not know much about the school other than its basketball program, and that probably helped Duke’s chances. From 2004 to 2007, the Blue Devils football team won four games and lost 42.

For as bad as the program had been, Daniels’ father focused on Duke’s academics, and young Matt paid attention.

Other elite schools offered: Georgia, Clemson, a number of others. But in the end, Daniels was set on Duke. His high school classmates ragged on him for his decision. He didn’t care. He wanted to create his own path. He felt he’d be able to change a program.

Even after Duke fired coach Ted Roof, who initially recruited Daniels, and hired David Cutcliffe, Daniels didn’t waver.

“It was: How can we take this low-down program and completely flip the switch?” Daniels says. “I wanted to find a way to say I was part of something special.”

Other high school kids around the Southeast noticed how serious he was when they received messages on My Space. Jay Hollingsworth, a running back from Sanford, N.C., committed to Duke. Afterward, he checked his notifications.

One read: “Hey man, welcome to the fam.”

It was from Daniels.

“I’m like, ‘Who in the hell is this guy?’” Hollingsworth says.

Lee Butler, a cornerback from Anderson, S.C., met Daniels at a Duke football camp. The two stayed in contact. Butler committed to Duke, then flipped to Georgia Tech. Daniels kept contact, and after Butler flipped back, the two became roommates.

“When he’s passionate about something,” Butler says, “there’s not a way to actually stop this man.”

Tony Foster, a wide receiver from Burlington, N.C., was introduced to Daniels after he arrived on campus. Quickly, he joined the group of freshmen, led by Daniels, who would go out to eat every week at Outback Steakhouse.

“We used to call him the glue to our class,” Foster says. “The glue to keep us together.”

During the summer of their freshman year, Cutcliffe corralled all the newcomers for workouts. The task? Run 10 110-yard sprints. Among all of the freshmen, only Daniels, who signed as a safety, completed the task.

“You knew — this guy’s got it,” Hollingsworth says.

“I’m looking at this guy, like, he’s different,” Foster says.

“Out of all the guys, it was like, ‘It would be Matt that finishes,’” Butler says.

From left to right: Matt Daniels, Lee Butler, Tony Foster and Jay Hollingsworth. (Courtesy of Lee Butler and Jay Hollingsworth)

Duke’s coaches noticed the way teammates gravitated toward Daniels. They also understood that he could help the team on the field.

Daniels played as a freshman. Late in his first season, the team went on the road to face Virginia Tech. It was frigid. The Blue Devils were overmatched. But that night, Duke’s players flew around the field and pushed the Hokies to the brink. As they shook hands following Duke’s 14-3 loss, Virginia Tech coach Frank Beamer stopped Cutcliffe and said, “I admire the way you guys played.”

“Matt led that night,” Cutcliffe says now. “You knew you had something special.”

Daniels’ intensity showed in the way he darted from his safety spot into the hole. One day, in the film room, coaches highlighted a clip of Daniels at the goal line, knocking a pulling guard off his feet.

“Matt comes into the box and he freaking puts this pulling guard on his ass,” Butler says. “Every coach was like, ‘Oh my God.’”

Another day at practice, Hollingsworth, the running back, beelined toward a hole. Daniels missiled down to make the tackle. As the two collided, Hollingsworth’s facemask bent in toward his face. From then on, his teammates called Daniels “Hat.”

The nickname has stood the test of time, and so has one of Daniels’ many speeches to his teammates. In college, he commanded the room on weeknights in players-only meetings.

The most infamous of them was caught on video. His dreadlocks flowed over the top of his white No. 40 Duke uniform as he gave a pep talk inside the locker room. He pounded his chest and said, “We play for f—ing D-U-K-E, Duke motherf—ing football. Don’t ever forget that.”

GAMEDAY‼️ Let’s get to 4-0 today‼️#BeatKU pic.twitter.com/4MNHvcSw5e

— Blue Devils (@BlueDevils) September 24, 2022

In Daniels’ four years at the school, Duke never won more than five games in a season, a fact that frustrates him to this day.

“It was so devastating man,” he says. “I left the place feeling as though I didn’t accomplish what I truly went there for.”

The program, however, did go on to win 10 games in 2013, including an appearance in the Chick-fil-A Bowl. Derek Jones, who was the team’s defensive backs coach throughout that stretch, observed one of the team’s leaders, Ross Cockrell, who was an underclassman when Daniels played for the Blue Devils.

“You could see him mimicking Matt,” Jones says. “He’d sucked it in, and he became that guy.”

Before Snead offered Daniels a job, he signed him as an undrafted free agent to compete for a special teams role.

Daniels had received a fourth-round grade prior to the draft, but a meniscus injury during his pro day affected his evaluation. Cutcliffe connected him with a staffer in St. Louis, setting up a run of relationships that would set the stage for his post-playing life.

After his injury, he rehabbed with Tyler Williams, now the Vikings’ executive director of player health and performance. Daniels’ own experiences, such as the loneliness associated with working adjacent to the rest of his teammates, shaped his perspective on managing emotions.

He learned special teams play from Rams coordinator John “Bones” Fassel, who delved into the intricacies of kickoffs and punts. Some teaching points? How to listen for a snapper’s cadence, how to install special teams plays and the type of energy necessary to engage a group of players who would prefer to be playing in the other two phases of football.

“Bones has a major, major impact on how I prepare,” Daniels says.

Once the Rams released him, Daniels signed with the Jacksonville Jaguars and later with the San Diego Chargers. In January 2017, he faced a decision: Should he continue pursuing his original dream or transition to his post-playing career?

In choosing the latter, he sent a text message to Snead, explaining that he was now available for hire. At the same time, needing a job, he also expressed interest in a graduate assistant position with his defensive coordinator at Duke, Mike MacIntyre, then the head coach at Colorado.

MacIntyre responded first, saying that he did indeed have a position open. Daniels accepted. A month later, Snead called and offered a scouting job. Daniels stood at another crossroads: go down the front office path or coach. He returned to Duke to talk it through with Cutcliffe and Jones, his former coaches. He also mulled over the decision in conversations with his father.

He stuck with coaching because of what it offers in terms of impact.

“Passion for me is where love and purpose collide,” Daniels says. “I see myself as a servant leader. I want to be able to touch and impact as many people as I can. That’s just how I was raised. How I’ve always been. Leader.”

He set out for Colorado but also wrote handwritten notes to each coach he had come in contact with during his pro career — including Fassel, who floated the idea of working together. A year later, in 2018, Fassel called with a potential opening for Daniels to become the assistant special teams coach with the Rams. Daniels flew out to Los Angeles, laughed when he saw Snead and embraced the opportunity. Two weeks later, networking at a coaches convention in Charlotte, N.C., Fassel called.

“Man, I got bad news,” he said. “I had to tell the other two guys they didn’t get it. You got it.”

That year, Daniels served as the Rams’ assistant special teams coach but also worked heavily with the defensive backs. He wanted to coach defense mostly because he perceived that as the quickest route to becoming a head coach.

“I see myself being a head coach in this league when that time comes,” he says. “You look at how many special teams coordinators get the opportunity. John Harbaugh and Bill Belichick. Outside of those two guys, not really anybody.”

The Rams made the Super Bowl that season but lost. Daniels held the same job the next year, focusing heavily on his work with defensive backs. After that season, Fassel was hired by the Dallas Cowboys. He wanted Daniels to tag along, so he did. After making the move, he decided he would dive more deeply into special teams because he realized how much the unit aligned with his purpose.

Matt Daniels was the assistant special teams coach for the Rams under John Fassel in 2018 and 2019. (Mark J. Rebilas / USA Today)

He began to intrigue other teams around the league. In 2021, the Philadelphia Eagles interviewed him for their special teams coordinator opening. He did not receive an offer, but after the interview, Joe Pannunzio, a longtime coach who has worked with Nick Saban among others, called Jones, Daniels’ college coach, to offer an unprompted thought.

“His exact words to me was, ‘That guy is going to be a superstar in this league,’” Jones says.

This past offseason, after another year in Dallas, Daniels interviewed with six teams for their special teams coordinator jobs. The Vikings and coach Kevin O’Connell were blown away.

“My philosophy has always been, ‘You’ve got to be so good they can’t deny you,’” Daniels says.

Black hats with a purple “ST” logo began to float around the building. A special teams mantra was taped on many of the Vikings players’ lockers. The pride has progressed from the meeting room to the field. Each Sunday offers a new example.

How much does the average fan know about the strategy of special teams?

“Like 5 percent,” says Metellus, a Vikings safety and special teams leader.

What about it don’t people know?

“The scheme,” Metellus says. “Teams run different stuff. It might look the same to the average person watching, but there’s a lot of different stuff going on and unsung heroes who don’t get their names called.”

Each week in his press conference, Daniels provides a window into some of these elements: elite hang time on a punt (4.9 seconds), the distance a punter must stand from the long snapper (14 yards), what direction it’s best to kick the ball off to (outside the numbers). He also discloses the nicknames of some of the core special teamers: Long snapper Andrew DePaola is “Sir Po,” wide receiver Dan Chisena is “Hot Sauce” and kicker Greg Joseph is “G Money.”

The shenanigans have not stopped there. Early in the season, Daniels said he was salivating over Jalen Reagor’s calves. He compared punter Ryan Wright’s leg to that of a stallion. Most coaches stick to the give-nothing-away script. Daniels, meanwhile, chooses to be himself.

"What he offers is an immediate guy that spooks the punt team." – Matt Daniels on @jalenreagor pic.twitter.com/XNaNlqU9Gv

— Minnesota Vikings (@Vikings) September 8, 2022

“He’s not going to steer away from who he is and what he believes in,” Ham says. “It’s not all fun and games. But he makes sure as he’s teaching us and helping us get better, he brings positive energy. It helps us and other guys learn.”

Still sitting outside the TCO Performance Center, speaking about his career arc, Daniels arrives at the present.

“It’s been a wild ride,” he says.

His mother, Swannette, has been a rock along the way. So has his wife, Tiffany. His college teammates cited both as crucial components of Daniels’ rise.

Then there is Daniels’ father, Bruce, who passed away earlier this year due to complications with pulmonary fibrosis.

“I think so much of who Matt is came from him,” Foster, still a close friend of Daniels’, says. “He held Matt to a standard.’

In saying that, Foster is reminded of Bruce’s funeral, and of the speech he considers Matt’s best. At a church in Savannah, Ga., Matt spoke about his father’s insights, his advice and grief.

“At the end of the day, grief is nothing more than the cost of love,” Daniels says. “For me, at that time, I had so much grief built up. Missing my father. Wishing he could come back. But that’s the price you pay for love.”

He shakes his head.

“I’m so thankful for him,” he says. “My father loved football so much. He loved football so much.”

Asking Daniels to describe what he means would not make sense.

The father’s love for the game is evident every time his son speaks.

(Top photo: Stephen Maturen / Getty Images)

ncG1vNJzZmismJqutbTLnquim16YvK57knBscWhmbHxzfJFrZmppX2WAcLnAratmnJGjtqa40matoqOZo7S0edKpnJyhkaF6tbHApqpmm5%2Bkv6W1zZqrqKpf