During pregame warmups ahead of the Seattle Seahawks’ preseason matchup against the Kansas City Chiefs, Jake Bobo and Devon Witherspoon met on the Lumen Field turf and tapped helmets. This brief exchange between teammates provided a road map for anyone seeking to identify the spirit of the Seahawks as they enter Year 2 of the Mike Macdonald era.
Just follow Spoon.
“Meet you in the end zone, huh?” Bobo said. Witherspoon replied, “Aight.”
The thinking was that Witherspoon, set to play at least a series with the starting defense, would, somehow, find the end zone, and Bobo would meet him there. Instead, it was the third-year receiver who caught a 12-yard screen pass for a touchdown in the first quarter. More than 60,000 fans screamed as Bobo galloped across the goal line. None was happier than Witherspoon.
“Meet you in the end zone, I got you!” Witherspoon screamed on the sideline while shaking hands and bumping chests with Bobo. “That’s the Bobo I know! That’s the Bobo I know, though!”
Later in the same quarter, Bobo caught another 12-yard touchdown pass, this one a goal-line fade over cornerback Joshua Williams. Again, Witherspoon was elated.
“Do I have to beg for the old Bobo?!” Witherspoon hollered on the sideline while celebrating his teammate. “Do I gotta beg? Do I?”
This is how the 2025 Seattle Seahawks look and sound. Witherspoon was acquired with the fifth pick in the 2023 NFL draft. He’s the highest-drafted player of the John Schneider era. Days later, Bobo signed a rookie free-agent deal with Seattle after going undrafted. Their relationship is emblematic of the energy Macdonald wants flowing throughout the team.
In practice, Bobo and Witherspoon are constantly exchanging barbs. They push each other physically and verbally. Practice reporting rules prohibit the media from revealing the specifics of on-field exchanges, but it’s safe to say Witherspoon has no shortage of colorful ways to inform Bobo he’s not a very good player. Bobo never backs down; he wants the smoke whenever Witherspoon brings it.
The origins of their spats can be traced back to their rookie year. Witherspoon turned heads at multiple positions with his attitude and athleticism. The 6-foot-4, 211-pound Bobo did the same as a crafty route runner with soft hands and solid footwork.
“When we first came in, he was giving everybody some good looks in practice,” Witherspoon recalled. “(He) was doing his thing, though. He was battling.”
As they’ve battled over the years, a bond has formed. Acquired by the previous coaching staff, Witherspoon and Bobo are a throwback to the old mantra that the guy pushing you the hardest in practice is the one you should love the most. The sentiment is applicable under the new regime, too – the wording is just different. If you want an example of the “12 as one” motto Macdonald preaches, just follow Witherspoon.
“We go back and forth, talk a lot of trash to each other,” Witherspoon said. “But one thing about it is when it’s game day, we’re going to cheer each other on.”
For Seattle to reach the promised land, the team’s culture must be crafted in the image of its 38-year-old coach. Macdonald has successfully inserted his slogans into the vocabularies of his coaches and players. Phrases such as “12 as one,” “Go through things, not around them,” “Make it right,” and “Chasing edges” are frequently worn on team-issued gear and uttered in interviews.
But those terms are effectively just coach-speak until players bring them to life. Culture is curated by the coach but carried out by the players. Pete Carroll had guys like Richard Sherman, Doug Baldwin and Marshawn Lynch to personify his preachings and hold others accountable. It’s early in the Macdonald tenure, but it appears he has at least one guy to do the same: Witherspoon.
In an appearance on the “Get Got Pod” with Lynch and former Seahawks fullback Michael Robinson, Macdonald spoke about getting his messaging across and reinforcing standards. The goal, Macdonald said, is to establish a shared idea of what they’re trying to accomplish. Navigating those relationships requires different conversations depending on the individual. Macdonald’s example of a healthy version of that relationship? Witherspoon.
“I can give Spoon crap, and we scrimmage back and forth all the time, and it’s awesome,” Macdonald said. “We love each other. I love him, I know that.”
During this year’s rookie talent show in Green Bay, Wis., defensive back Nick Emmanwori impersonated his position coach, Karl Scott. He specifically mocked the way Scott uses Witherspoon as the gold standard regarding press coverage.
“If your jersey number is not 21 or last name Witherspoon, back up,” Emmanwori said, mimicking Scott. The second-round rookie has already learned what Scott told me last year: Sometimes all he must do to emphasize a point is put Witherspoon’s film on the screen during defensive back meetings. The tape does the talking.
Macdonald has another way of identifying the standard on defense through the acronym HPS, which stands for “high-powered (stuff).” The gist, according to safety Julian Love, is the type of difference-making effort that doesn’t necessarily show up in the stat sheet as a tackle, pass breakup or turnover. To ensure I understood the sentiment, I presented Love with two potential examples from 2024: Witherspoon’s lead block on Coby Bryant’s interception return for a touchdown against the Arizona Cardinals and Witherspoon’s block on Derick Hall’s scoop-and-score touchdown against the Atlanta Falcons.
“You just hit it exactly right,” Love said, later adding: “A lot of it is Spoon-type of plays.”
Witherspoon has undeniable physical talent, which is why he’s entering Year 3 as a two-time Pro Bowler (original ballot both times) and one of two active players to make the Seahawks’ list of the 50 greatest players in franchise history (punter Michael Dickson is the other). But the reason he’s the example for so many other positives inside the building is because he’s notorious for attributes that don’t require elite physical traits.
Witherspoon is always advocating loudly for teammates. He’s always communicating pre-snap and post-snap. He’s always chirping with the opposition. When teammates make big plays, he’s among the first to sprint to them and celebrate. Witherspoon has unlimited battery life. He’s fully juiced up every day. And if he makes an error or gives up a big play, he’s willing to be held accountable.
“I haven’t been around a guy like Spoon, somebody who is as charismatic as he is but also watches film, shows up where he’s supposed to be, plays hard – everything bundled into one,” Love said. “You don’t see that. Sometimes you see a louder guy, a guy who is charismatic, who maybe isn’t accountable. You see that more often than not in this league. But he has all those qualities that I like, packaged into a Florida kid.”
Witherspoon is almost a throwback to Lynch in that way. He’s extremely hard on himself when he surrenders a play, largely because doing so means he let his teammates down. His attitude is infectious in that regard. Offensive players from the previous era were motivated by how hard Beast Mode carried the rock, and it created this culture of not wanting to let him or any one of their teammates down. Seattle’s current defense is wired the same way.
“Spoon is everything,” linebacker Ernest Jones IV said. “He’s everything to this defense, everything to this team. He brings the juice, brings the energy. When a guy like that is giving his all every play, you want to do the same for him.”
Witherspoon is arguably the best player on a defense that aspires to be the NFL’s best in its second year with Macdonald. His twitchiness and aggressiveness at the top of routes allow him to be a high-level slot defender. He has the long speed to be an outside corner. He can blitz like a linebacker and, despite being 185 pounds, tackle like an MMA fighter.
“He plays big,” defensive tackle Leonard Williams said. “I tell him all the time that he acts like a D-lineman. I have a connection with him because of that. The physicality.”
Although it’s not the most significant piece, Witherspoon’s talent does influence his standing on the team. It’d be difficult to be such a spark plug if he weren’t also an all-world talent. Witherspoon has been on a star trajectory since the first month of his rookie season. He played like a star last year, even when the stats didn’t show it. He quickly felt comfortable enough with his new coach to call out flaws in the game plan during installs.
As the Seahawks try to re-enter the national consciousness and become a Super Bowl contender, they’ll need someone to become the face of the defense. Witherspoon, along with Williams, is a prime candidate.
Witherspoon is also admired for his mind, the final element of the “HPS” he brings to the table. As a rookie, Love said, Witherspoon would talk in meetings like a seasoned veteran. His ability to anticipate plays was uncanny, even though he was sidelined with a hamstring for most of 2023 training camp. The same trait that prompted Carroll to liken Witherspoon to Troy Polamalu was evident when he was in street clothes. Love had never encountered a rookie so confident. So, naturally, he was skeptical.
Then he saw Witherspoon practice.
“His first padded practice, he flushed somebody,” said Love, who thought to himself, “This guy, he’s different.”
This, too, is why Witherspoon is the ideal man to represent the culture being established by Macdonald, who is known around the league as a defensive mastermind. As with any proficient play caller, Macdonald needs someone to be an extension of him on the field. Seattle sees this annually in its own division, where the Los Angeles Rams’ Sean McVay and San Francisco 49ers’ Kyle Shanahan have represented the NFC in four Super Bowls with four quarterbacks since becoming head coaches in 2017. They make the QB an extension of their offensive mind.
Macdonald was hired to put an end to that and get Seattle back to the mountaintop for the first time since the 2014 season. No one player is bigger than the program, but one player can be integral in implementing it. For Macdonald, that player is Witherspoon.