Harrison Smith plays mind games before practice most days. He searches for any source of motivation, something to stoke his inner fire, whether it is real or imagined.
Maybe it is an image in his mind of getting beat on a pass the previous day. Or listening to a particular song. Occasionally, he'll concoct a slight directed at him, knowing it's a lie but still allows him to "pretend to be mad about something."
"The more you play," he said, "the more you have to dig."
Smith is preparing for his 11th season in the NFL, and though he has accomplished enough individually to garner Hall of Fame discussion, the Vikings safety never sounds like a player satisfied with his standing.
Ask him about his motivation at age 33 and he doesn't pause long enough to take a breath.
"Winning," he said. "That's what I'm chasing."
He's chasing something else too, a vital tentacle to his team's success: Showing that he remains an elite safety.
Smith knows the conversation that follows a player with his longevity and pedigree — See, he's on the wrong side of 30 and slipping.
That's where pride takes over. Smith still burns to play at an All-Pro level. He refuses to bend to the notion of physical decline.
As a young player, he used to find motivation in criticism of him on social media. That doesn't bother him now. He knows his own standards and doesn't need to be reminded if he falls below them.
"It's more inner, more personal like … I should make that play all day every day," he said. "And if I don't, that's going to infuriate me."
He has never been a big talker. He's always preferred action over words, which he traces to his childhood when he was terrified to speak in front of groups.
"Sometimes I think words don't mean everything to me," he said.
He had no interest in social media until someone made a fake Twitter account pretending to be Smith early in his NFL career. One of the first posts was something along the lines of "Minnesota, welcome me!"
"I'm like, yeah, that doesn't really sound like something I would say," Smith said, laughing.
He created his own account to keep things real.
That's how he treats every part of his craft, with blunt honesty. If he or the Vikings defense plays poorly, he owns it and admits it. The defense was terrible last season, which undoubtedly bothered Smith because he refuses to waver from his personal standard.
His reputation has evolved from being a seek-and-destroy tackler to a brainiac who fools quarterbacks, though he still packs a wallop when he hits. His cat-and-mouse battles with Aaron Rodgers led to effusive praise from the Packers quarterback last season.
"He was probably embellishing a smidge," Smith said.
Smith has become a master at disguising his intentions, creating uncertainty about whether he will blitz or drop into coverage. He said different factors contribute to that deception, but his intelligence, experience and overall versatility allow him to be used in that manner. He's constantly moving and juking right before the snap.
"I'm sure there are times when I'm doing stuff and [Rodgers] is looking at me like, that's not doing anything to me," he said with a smile.
Training camp No. 11 has felt a little like the first day of school for Smith under a new coaching staff. He describes learning coordinator Ed Donatell's scheme and new ideas from the coaching staff as "fun."
"The big thing is, yeah, I played 10 years before Ed got here," he said. "But what does he want out of the safeties and how I can I adapt my game to fit into that?"
It would be wrong to call him rejuvenated by the change because that implies that he lost something in the dreariness of last season. Smith's expectations for himself and desire to remain a premier safety have not changed. His competitive pride won't allow it.
