60
some fat around his midsection, and his father found
him “lazy” and less than attentive to his chores. That’s
when Archie Sr. began training his sons at 4:30 each
morning. They reported to the basement they referred
to as The Dungeon for two-hour workouts. How great
you are started then, when Aaron was 11.
The Donalds lived in the Lincoln-Lemington-Belmar
section of northeast Pittsburgh, and the people in that
place—gritty, resolved, making due with what they
had—shaped Aaron, too. Eventually, he could bench
press more than 400 pounds as a teenager. After one
year of Dungeon toiling, the roles reversed. Aaron would
wake his father up for training sessions. He loved the
routine so much that Archie had to remind him, “You’re
not a bodybuilder; you’re a football player.” Archie
insists he noticed Aaron’s greatness the first time the
boy tugged on shoulder pads and de-cleated linemen
who were three and four years older than him.
During the NFL offseason, Donald would go back
home. He’d train at Pitt every day—his alma materleaders for total pressures over the past five seasons.
Donald, naturally, ranks first on the list with 501. And
while that is a staggering total, what’s more staggering
about it is the gap between him and Cameron Jordan,
the Saints defensive end who ranks second on that list
with 360 pressures.
In a text message exchange, Jordan said he wasn’t
aware of the statistic PFF unearthed. He figured
Donald had the most and called him a “different breed,”
then noted just how different, because, unlike Jordan,
Donald rushes quarterbacks from the interior of the
line mostly, rather than from the edge. “Legendary,
for sure,” Jordan wrote. W hen he received a screenshot
of the pressures tally, he responded instantly, with
two crying emoji, “he’s got 141 more pressures than
me,” and three more crying emoji. Jordan registered
30 more pressures over the past five seasons than
the Chargers’ Joey Bosa, 35 more than the Chiefs’
Chris Jones and 38 more than Khalil Mack of the Bears.
The gap between the best sack artists of a generation
and the very best is that vast.T
HE HAVOC THAT Donald creates on football
f ields ever y season is grounded in a counter-
intuitive notion: organization. He maps out
his days to the minute, works out almost year
round and eats cheat meals or hangs out with his friends
only when the schedule calls for a rare indulgence. He
once told his pass-rush coach, Chuck Smith, that he
trained six days a week, almost every week, every year.
Donald views his routines as his foundation. To play
freely, without thinking, he must follow them. That con-
cept was drilled into Donald almost from birth.
Sometimes, he’ll text his father the same message: You
created a monster. That’s true. In 1991, the year Aaron
was born, Archie spent $1,300 on a weight set. In the
ensuing years, he put the dumbbells and barbells to good
use. At first, he told his sons, Aaron and Archie Jr. (who
is three years older and played collegiately at Toledo),
to watch him closely as he lifted. He wanted to make
them “alpha males, exceptional workers.” Aaron was
still in diapers when that started. As he grew, he added2022 SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONSAARON DONALDTO
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HE MAPS OUT HIS DAYS TO THE MINUTE, WORKS OUT ALMOST
YEAR ROUND AND EATS CHEAT MEALS OR HANGS OUT WITH FRIENDS
ONLY WHEN THE SCHEDULE CALLS FOR A RARE INDULGENCE.