When you imagine a middle linebacker in the year 2024, that linebacker is Fred Warner. Since being drafted 70th overall in 2018, Warner has architected a fundamental change of how the position is played.
The three-time All-Pro fulfills the traditional linebacker responsibilities of reading runs, hitting the hole without fear, and clobbering ball carriers. But he’s also a polyglot of defensive coverages, with the understanding and ability to play anywhere on the field.
That’s not hyperbole. He can flash an A-gap blitz over the ball, then drop into coverage and carry a seam from a slot receiver or tight end like a safety. He has, on occasion, literally played as an outside corner. He can blitz, tackle, read and cover, all while carrying the green dot on his helmet, making him responsible for orchestrating the entire defense.
I talked to Warner, who became a first-time father in March, about his aspirations heading into a defining season following turnover and another tragic Super Bowl loss.
Getting defense back to ‘how it’s supposed to look’ amidst turnover
The 49ers fired defensive coordinator Steve Wilks after their defense had an inconsistent, albeit still impressive season following another whiff at another Super Bowl.
The group allowed 17.1 points per game, the third-fewest in the league. But they struggled against the run and screens at times, and never felt like the perpetually dominant force that they had been in years prior. They openly talked about a disconnect between pass rush and coverage calls after the season. The connection never felt right with Wilks, so they moved onto Nick Sorenson and brought in Brandon Staley as an assistant head coach.
Amidst that defensive regime change, and with the absence of key players at training camp, Warner remains one of the few guys to consistently charge up this team. He’s led a defense that has made life very hard on a Trent Williams- and Brandon Aiyuk-less offense.
Warner admits Aiyuk – who he targeted specifically, to the point of fighting last training camp – “is missed out there.” He acknowledged that he hasn’t singled any one player out in the same way he did with Aiyuk and that lack of healthy friction has been apparent.
The only player Warner misses more than Aiyuk on the field is Dre Greenlaw, a man he shares “an unspoken language” with. He’s worked alongside De’Vondre Campbell and Dee Winters, who he praised earnestly. But there’s no replacing Greenlaw.
“Man, do we miss him,” Warner said. He quickly returned to an optimism for the season, whether or not Greenlaw is part of it on the field, but those scars are apparent.
Looking back to that moment Greenlaw tore his Achilles on the sideline, and Warner’s agonizing scream, puts the whole season in focus. The fallout of a failed climb is not a feeling easily remedied.
“We had moments of, for real greatness, dominance,” Warner told me. “They talked about that Dallas Cowboys game, how dominant we were, and then we went on a three-game losing streak. Then we came back and had a dominant performance against Jacksonville.
“I've always known just being dominant every week in and week out and this being an organization built on defense. So when it's not looking the way it's supposed to look, that almost hurts me inside. Because I'm like, shoot. I know what it's supposed to look like, and it's not looking like that.
“I kind of hold myself accountable for that, even though it's a team game, everybody's got to do their new job. But when you know what it looks like, man, you got to hold guys accountable. You got to uphold the standard, and that's what we're looking to do going forward this season.”
What separates Warner
Warner is quite literally the standard bearer for the 49ers’ defense. In order to do that, there’s a certain level of relentlessness he has to operate with.
Sorenson, who has seen and worked with Warner for the last two seasons, likened Warner, essentially, to the Terminator when I asked what makes him unique.
“What makes Fred unique is he's a machine,” Sorenson said Wednesday. “I think he's the best linebacker in the NFL. He does it every single day. He's so consistent. He's a leader. He plays fast. He plays physical. He attacks the ball. He is a good tackler. He is good in coverage. To me, he's complete.
“But what he does is he practices like that every single day. That's why, I referenced that he's kind of like a machine. It's just an every single day thing with him and he's trained and it's very serious. I don't think any player I ever played with or have coached, it's never an accident. It's never a coincidence. A lot of times they are extremely dedicated. They have a clear plan, and they probably work the hardest.”
That shows up whenever you talk to Warner. It’s that inescapable, exhausting reality of NFL life. Do it again. And again. And again. And trick yourself into liking how exhausting it is.
Warner was asked earlier in training camp just how painful it is to fail in the Super Bowl and have to start from scratch earlier in training camp. He leaned into that pain.
“I mean, it's brutal,” Warner said. “I'll be honest. Just complete honesty, it's brutal. Because you know in order to get to where you want to go, this part right here that we're in, has got to suck. That's point blank, period. Like, it's got to hurt, it's got to suck. If it doesn't, that means you're not doing it hard enough. You're not doing it right. Especially the way that we do it here with the 49ers. It's gotta be physical. You're gonna be tired. And you do that every single day for a long period of time and you build a callous.”
Converting old criticism into confidence
Embracing that pain is also met with a desire to dole it out.
Warner is rightly recognized for his elite coverage ability. But make no mistake, he approaches his position with a traditional linebacker mentality, a la his mentor, DeMeco Ryans.
“The game has got to be played a certain way, but especially at the linebacker position, you got to be relentless,” Warner said. “You got to play with a chip on your shoulder, some sort of tenacity. And you're being asked to do a lot in terms of run game, pass game, pass rush, so you got to find somebody who can do all those things. And that's hard. That's a hard ask.
"So, at the end of the day, the style of play, they try to make rules to make the game softer and softer. You got to continue to bring the physicality, bring the violence to the game. And that's where you clean a lot of stuff up.”
Part of the drive for Warner is the perception from when he was drafted. He had been used as a safety and outside linebacker at BYU in a "star" role and was critiqued as being something of a tweener, not clearly a linebacker or a safety. There were questions about his tackling form, and whether he would be physical or comfortable enough to play as a true inside linebacker.
Warner admitted that playing in the box and hitting from that position weren’t always a “comfortability,” for him as a rookie, because he’d never truly played in that role.
He came in – like George Kittle – with much shorter hair, wearing the aura-less number 48 and being a bit shy about using his voice. Linebacker coaches Ryans and Johnny Holland, and the “legendary” Kwon Alexander helped change that. He still says it took until about year three or four to fully find it.
“From year one, I had the confidence of, I knew what I was doing, from giving the calls and checks and everything standpoint, being able to still do my job,” Warner said. “It just wasn't as effective. It was kind of like I was treading water, but I could do it.
“So that's why they trusted me with those keys, which, looking back, I'm like, ‘Y'all let a rookie play Mike? That's a little hairy.’ But those were different days.”
Now, Warner is someone you cannot get to stop talking on the practice field. He lets you hear it all day long. And he'll hit you a bit harder in practice than you might be comfortable with.
That's all so when it gets to be game time, he can "lay a big hit in the box," rejecting those criticisms of his college self. He carries with him those old perceptions of his limitations as ammunition.
“Growing into that and being that dominant force in the trenches, I take a lot of pride in that,” Warner said. “But also being able to do everything in terms of pass rush and pass coverage ability, I want to make sure there's literally no holes in my game. I want to be elite at all levels, and then that's when they can't deny you at that point.”
That feeling of being undeniably great is something you can sense is on Warner’s mind. He wants his record to be unimpeachable.
That confidence, that desire to be the greatest, was always a part of him. But Warner says he had to bring it out of himself. He drew back to the journey he took to even end up at BYU.
“It's developed,” Warner said. “It has developed. It's grown. It's always been in me. I've always wanted it. But you don't always have that confidence when you're young. I had to figure everything out from high school, single mom. I didn't see any NFL players come out of my high school. Me and my mom trying to figure out the whole college recruiting process, going Division I, playing at BYU, being doubted, coming out. It's something that's for sure been developed over time.”
The difference, among many, from Warner’s rookie season, is that he sees the game quicker. He can, as he put it, “surgeon diagnose” what the offense is doing and relay that to the rest of the defense. That pre-snap assessment allows him to trigger instinctively.
“That's why I feel like I play at a different speed now,” Warner said. “Even though I'm not necessarily faster, I'm seeing things differently in space.”
The aspiration
This all comes back to what Warner aspires to be. Yes, obviously, he, and the rest of the 49ers’ corps are voracious in their hunger for that elusive Super Bowl win. But within his own control is only what he can accomplish. What he can achieve, and where he stands in the league, matters too.
He was ranked No. 11 on the NFL’s Top 100 earlier in August, with two of his 49ers teammates – Christian McCaffrey (No. 3) and Trent Williams (No. 7) – ahead of him.
What did he think about that ranking?
“I'm not satisfied until they knock one of those ones off,” Warner said. “Until it's just clear cut, number one. And there's obviously still work to do. But even then, you got to go back and do it again even if you are number one. Tyreek [Hill]'s gotta come back and get number one again this year.”
Off the field, Warner has a new perspective. He and his wife, Sydney, welcomed their son, Beau Anthony in March. He’s made a couple adorable appearances on the 49ers’ TikTok.
On being a father, Warner’s face lights up with the sort of smile that’s impossible not to smile back at. He called it a “dream come true,” reflecting on being able to have his son interacting with Deebo Samuel’s son, Deebo Jr.
“It's been so good, I can't explain it,” Warner said. “Every time I go home I see him, I'm like, damn. I can't believe it... It's been the biggest blessing for me and my wife.”
He said he didn’t need the extra motivation that comes with fatherhood, but he’ll happily take it. For Warner, it comes back to a very simple, very difficult premise.
For Warner, it all comes back to a very simple, very difficult premise.
“It's not a secret that I want to be the best,” Warner said. “We break down every single day. We talk about it as a linebacker group, best in the world, but like, that's the mindset. That's got to be the mindset. And when you’re continually speaking those things, the work has got to match whatever you're speaking. So people might look at it and be like, 'Man, you're adding extra pressure on yourself.' But to me, that's when you're able to really rise to the occasion, when you do put yourself in that mindset. So that's how I am every single day. That's what my mindset is.”
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