The rest of that piece...
Josh Rosen is straight out of the make-a-quarterback factory. He has perfect size (6-4, 218), accuracy, arm strength and intelligence. If teams only looked at skill and ability, he'd likely be the consensus top pick in the draft.
But Rosen has developed a reputation that he's difficult to get along with and hard to coach. It's a damning assessment of a player who, on April 26th, will become the face of an NFL franchise. It has gotten to the point these off-field red flags come up as much as Rosen's on-field ability.
And Jason Negro believes that's asinine. Rosen, he said, is just misunderstood.
In 2014, in-between his junior and senior seasons at St. John Bosco, Rosen attended Trent Dilfer's Elite 11 football camp. Dilfer sent playbooks and schemes to each of the players beforehand so they could familiarize themselves before arriving.
As soon as Rosen got his, he got to work. He went over every route and every concept on every page. He wanted to master it so he showed up more prepared than the 17 other high school quarterbacks. But in his studies, a few things popped up. So, he took the playbook to Negro.
Dilfer had specific concepts drawn against certain coverages that Rosen didn't understand. He felt other routes would work better. He came up with a few adjustments. Negro, quickly, shot them down … but not because they were wrong.
“'Josh, there may be flaws, but that's not for you to go and tell Trent Dilfer. Don't do it.” Negro recalled telling his young quarterback. “But he couldn't help it.”
At the camp, Rosen started asking Dilfer questions. He began questioning why things were done this way, and not that way? He had to understand. His intentions weren't malicious, he genuinely wanted to know.
After the camp ended, Dilfer said in an interview with “The Opening Drive” that Rosen “has yet to buy into what I'm preaching … he's a guy who keeps telling me how they do it at John Bosco.”
Things spiraled out of control from there. Rosen's intentions were lost in translation.
“He can't just accept something until he understands everything about it,” Negro said. That's led to him getting misunderstood. He's so intelligent, he has to know why things are done a certain way.
“He's a questions guy. He wants to know the 'why' behind everything. What he had to learn, and he has, is that there's a time and a place for that. He needed to mature.”
Jason Negro isn't a stranger to elite quarterback play. St. John Bosco plays in the Trinity League and is part of the California Interscholastic Federation. It's one of the more prestigious high school conferences in the country. Negro's coached or seen the likes of Carson Palmer, Mark Sanchez, Matt Leinart and others. He's had a slew of his own players, in addition to Josh Rosen, play high-level collegiate ball.
Negro knows talent when he sees it. But then again, anyone who watches Rosen throw can, too. Where he separates himself, in his high school coach's eyes, is with his football acumen. It's been there ever since he was a kid.
It takes time to develop a high school quarterback, especially playing against the talent in the Trinity League. But with Rosen, there was no adjustment period. Never. It all just … made sense. Coaches would tell him to do one thing, he'd do it once, and he'd get it. Negro can't recall a situation where they had to rep something, over and over again, to help it make sense for Rosen.
At the end of each practice, Negro's staff would upload film for players to review. It gives them a chance to self-critique when they're home. Rosen was always the first to ask for his. It wasn't long before Negro saw why.
“He'd come back the next day in the meetings and know everything — I mean everything,” Negro said. “He knew the throws he hit, the throws he missed, why he made those mistakes, how he can improve. Everything. All in just a day. He was an incredible learner.
“Typical high school kids don't do that. They're into so many other things because they're kids. But Josh wasn't into that. He was focusing on football, refining his craft, and trying to be the best he can possibly be.”
Negro said Rosen was the best quarterback he ever coached. But what impressed Negro as much as any throw or film study was how Rosen acted off the field. There was never a time Rosen believed he was above the team. He didn't skip workouts or cut in line during team meals. He was also friends with everyone.
St. John Bosco is located southeast of L.A. The school is 40 minutes in either direction from some of the nicer areas in the city and some of the worst. The kids attending the school come from all different social and economic backgrounds.
“He was so generous to everyone,” Negro said. “I'm not saying he gave them money. It's not about that. He was just able to adapt and get along with everybody in our program.”
Jason Negro's phone has rung quite a bit these last few months. Most times it's an NFL team on the other end.
Understandably so. When you've spent more time coaching Josh Rosen than anyone else, you're the one who knows Josh Rosen the best.
Coaches, scouts and personnel executives have dug in on Negro, the head football coach at St. John Bosco High School in Bellflower, Calif., trying to figure out what kind of person Rosen is. Are the rumors of his personality flaws true? Can he be a leader? Was he a leader?
Negro answers each question as honestly as he can. Then he tells a story.
In the summer of 2014, St. John Bosco had an opportunity to play Saint Louis, a high school in Hawaii (and alma mater of Marcus Mariota, who graduated in 2010). To do so, each kid had to raise $1,500. This wasn't an issue for many on the roster. They just had to go home, ask mom and dad for a check, then come back the next day. But for those coming from less privileged backgrounds? It wasn't possible.
And that didn't sit well with Rosen.
The 17-year-old, with some help from the team's operations coordinator Jessie Christensen, designed a discount card on his iPad. The next day, dressed in a suit and tie, he took it to many of the local businesses and restaurants in Bellflower. His pitch: If someone shows you this card, give them some form of a discount. The proceeds of which would go directly to the St. John Bosco football program to help those less-fortunate kids get to Hawaii.
It worked. Rosen's program helped several teammates fund their trips.
Negro had never seen such selfless initiative taken by a student. When he went to Rosen with praise, the teenager met him with a request: Don't tell anybody. Rosen didn't want the credit. He was just helping his teammates out.
“I only talk about it now because he's been gone for three years,” Negro said. “Josh takes a lot of hits in the media with how outspoken he is and some of the things he says. But actions like that? I mean, I think it's a testament to his character and who he is.”