NFL training camp is a force to be reckoned with.
In a sport that prides itself on a year-round calendar and an absence of lulls, training camp is the perfect tool to reel back in fans from baseball and the NBA offseason and build up excitement for upcoming NFL action. The practices don’t count in the standings, but enough is on the line, from starting jobs to undrafted rookies aiming for spots on the 53-man roster, that practice sessions offer reasons to tune in beyond the simple fact that football has returned.
Not to say training camp is easy. Like football itself, training camp is gritty, physical and unrelenting. In most camps, heat is a major factor, and fights between players on the same teams, or on different teams in two-team scrimmages, are a natural byproduct. It’s a pressure cooker and a series of high school athletics hell weeks, all in one. Even members of the media share in the collective fatigue by the final days, and the transition from training camp’s finale, the 53-man roster announcements, to Week 1 of the regular season feels well-earned and triumphant.
Training camp might also be the most accessible component of the NFL calendar, especially for younger fans. Like baseball’s spring training, every team thinks it still has a shot at making the postseason and running the table, but instead of sharpening up for the season in Arizona or Florida like MLB teams, most NFL teams hold training camp in front of their fans in their home markets. In many cases, it’s free — a tremendous value move compared to the exceedingly pricey cost of a regular season game ticket.
In my own experience, training camp’s focus on younger fans creates foundational memories. Allow me to share a couple memories. Right before the 2009 season, I attended Ravens training camp at McDaniel College, just hoping to see some football and get a glimpse of players I’d watched tear through the AFC playoff bracket the winter before. At that time, I was so green to the sport that I wore an NBA jersey, a Celtics Kevin Garnett replica, and rode on my dad’s shoulders to watch legends like Ed Reed and Ray Lewis scamper around the practice fields.
That proved to be the second-coolest part. After the practice ended, Ravens employees ushered me into a pen with other kids my age, and pretty soon I realized what was about to come: player autographs. I knew plenty of Ravens players, but Reed and Lewis captured my imagination as two of the best defenders of my generation.
When Reed’s golf cart headed in our direction, my pulse spiked. And sure enough, Reed, wearing a skull cap and his practice gear, came right up to me, complimented me on my taste in NBA teams, and signed the left shoulder (which immediately washed off). Lewis was less complimentary but in on the fun, too, rubbing my head noogie-style and teasing me for wearing a Celtics jersey to a Ravens practice. Those interactions exponentially increased my interest in the Ravens and the NFL as a whole and gave me a sense of pride whenever I saw them run out of the M&T Bank Stadium tunnel on game days.
Over a decade later, I returned to Ravens training camp, this time flanked by two of my brothers, my sister and my dad, at their performance facility in Owings Mills, Maryland. Coming off a spring in which I reported on the Atlanta Falcons for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, I was much more of a “ball-knower” this time and was less in awe of the athleticism and size of the players, but I brought years of investment and interest to the sideline and enjoyed introducing my siblings to the energy of training camp. Since this camp came the year after the pandemic-influenced season, the Ravens took extra precautions with the autograph portion of camp but still made it a priority to include younger fans in the post-practice fun.
At the end of practice, I gently prodded my sister toward the fence at the front of the stands and explained to her what was about to come. But even I couldn’t predict what was next. In a perfect turn of events, NFL MVP Lamar Jackson came over to our section, signed a football in a tub and pointed to my sister while instructing a Ravens employee to bring the autographed football over to her. Those are the types of moments that rarely happen in the heat and do-or-die urgency of the regular season and that make training camp meaningful for both casual and in-the-weeds fans.
Experiencing training camp from the team side confirmed its value to me. As an intern with the Denver Broncos, I learned a lot from training camp, from the names of all 90 players on the Broncos’ roster to the importance of sunscreen, but my favorite part was seeing the enthusiasm on the sideline in the open-seating fan section. There’s a lot to romanticize about training camp when the brutal winter months come — the frequent whistles, the early-morning wakeups, the abundance of Gatorade, the freshly-cut grass, the laid-back stretching and position drill periods, the excitement over 7-on-7 action — but the fan involvement tops the list.
NFL training camp sets the foundation of a team’s season, and as I’ve learned, it can set the foundation for a lifelong interest in football, too. Training camp will never be as consequential or entertaining as games themselves, but open practices deserve their due as one of the best products NFL has to offer.
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