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It’s in the morning, and Brees just walked into Fitness Quest 10 in San Diego, CA, the gym where he’s trained in the off-season under Todd Durkin for the past nine years, dating back to his days with the Chargers.
If the contract process hangs over his head in any way, he hides it well.
Durkin tapes a piece of paper to the wall and gives the guys a verbal run-through of what’s to come—a two-hour “split-fusion” training session comprising a series of disparate circuits that incorporate about 100 movement variations.
To a layman, the language on the sheet looks like Latin.
Instead, the Saints slapped him with the franchise tag—a one-year deal based on the top five salaries for his position. After the warmup, Durkin, who blends in like another player jumping in and out of the drills, turns and sprints out the back door of the gym.
Lean and muscular at six feet tall and 209 pounds, Brees moves through the workout with cool precision, his posture ramrod straight at all times like a Marine.
He’ll agree to a five-year, 0 million contract with million guaranteed, a certainty unheard of in the NFL. All he knows is that his agent is working around the clock to seal the deal before Monday and avoid all sorts of unpleasant territory like training camp holdouts and the inevitable game of PR chicken that would ensue in the media.