JUST IN: Colin Simmons Turns Confidence into Calculated Chaos as Texas Linebacker Plans Unusual Self-Evaluation Tour
As Texas Longhorns linebacker Colin Simmons looks to continue proving himself as a collegiate star, he has decided to conduct somewhat of a unique, unexpected, and downright bold campaign of self-assessment that is making waves not just in Austin, but across the college football landscape. In an era where athletes carefully curate their image, where social media controls the message, and where coaching staffs often gatekeep access, Simmons is flipping the script. He’s taking control of his own narrative, not through press releases or flashy edits, but through action—a self-initiated journey of proof, presence, and purpose.
While many rising sophomores are settling into the comfort of system familiarity and locker room routines, Simmons is doing something radically different. He’s reportedly setting out to put himself in front of the best, compete against the best, and challenge himself to be better than he was yesterday—not just in the safety of practice fields at DKR-Texas Memorial Stadium, but in other programs’ shadows, among other high-level players, and under different kinds of spotlights. What exactly this tour entails remains somewhat cryptic, as Simmons and those around him keep details under wraps. But the intention is clear: he wants to be known not just as a Texas Longhorn, but as the linebacker to watch in college football.
This isn’t just about ego. It’s about evidence. Simmons, a five-star talent and one of the highest-rated defensive signees for Texas in recent memory, already made a splash as a freshman. His speed off the edge, football IQ, and playmaking ability drew praise from coaches, teammates, and opponents alike. But Simmons doesn’t seem satisfied with being “promising.” He wants to be dominant. He wants to lead. And most importantly, he wants to ensure no one forgets his name once the season kicks off.
The idea of a self-conducted evaluation tour might sound strange in a sport so structured by coaching hierarchies, but Simmons’ plan reflects the changing nature of college football. NIL has empowered players, social media has given them platforms, and the transfer portal has shifted the leverage. Simmons is choosing to use his leverage differently—not to transfer, but to transform. He’s reaching out to trainers across the country, visiting former NFL players turned coaches, dropping in on programs that run different defensive schemes, and soaking up everything he can. He wants to see how others prepare, how others play, and how he stacks up when the pads are off and it’s just raw work, raw knowledge, raw competition.
It’s a gutsy move. Not every coach would love the idea of one of their star players leaving the familiar cocoon of the offseason training program. But the Texas staff, led by Steve Sarkisian and defensive coordinator Pete Kwiatkowski, reportedly gave Simmons their blessing. And why not? A player hungry enough to challenge himself beyond the norm is a player worth investing in. They know Simmons isn’t chasing exposure—he’s chasing excellence.
There’s also an old-school vibe to what Simmons is doing, ironically enough. It echoes the days when hungry players hit the pavement in the offseason, training at parks, showing up unannounced at camps, or popping into film sessions just to listen. Simmons may be a Gen Z star with access to modern training facilities and media tools, but his mentality is more blue-collar than brand-conscious. It’s less about likes and more about legacy.
And fans are noticing. Longhorn Nation, already abuzz about a defense that seems poised to take another leap, has rallied around Simmons’ offseason commitment. Message boards light up with every sighting, every nugget of information about his travels. Was he really working out with former Pro Bowlers in Florida? Did he actually do linebacker drills with a Big Ten staff during a private session? The rumors are part of the mystique, but they’re rooted in a broader truth: Simmons is doing the work. Relentlessly. Obsessively. Quietly, and loudly all at once.
His journey also serves as a signal to NFL scouts. They already know who Colin Simmons is. They watched his high school tape, saw his quick burst, noted his elite motor. They scouted him as a true freshman and logged every snap he played. But what they’ll see now is a player taking accountability for his own development. A player not content to ride the wave of reputation. A player willing to look uncomfortable in order to grow. That’s rare. And that’s valuable.
In the locker room, Simmons’ approach is having an effect too. Younger players view him as a blueprint. Veterans respect the grind. He’s setting a tone that isn’t loud or performative, but infectious nonetheless. It’s the kind of internal leadership that programs crave—someone who doesn’t need to talk about the standard, because he is the standard.
As the 2025 season approaches, expectations for Simmons will be high, and deservedly so. He’s not flying under the radar. He’s not trying to. Every quarterback in the Big 12 knows he’s coming. Every offensive coordinator is circling his name on the scouting report. And Simmons? He welcomes it. Because for all the unconventional steps he’s taking now, his mission is singular and simple: to dominate when the lights come on.
And don’t mistake this as a distraction. Simmons isn’t skipping workouts. He’s not going rogue. He’s not rebelling against the system. He’s enhancing it. The idea of a “tour” or extended self-driven training campaign doesn’t mean Simmons is leaving Texas behind—it means he’s bringing what he learns back to Texas. Every tip, every technique, every ounce of knowledge absorbed will be applied in burnt orange come September. That’s the endgame. Not attention. Not clout. Wins.
There’s also something refreshingly honest about how Simmons is handling his rising stardom. He’s not pretending he has it all figured out. He’s acknowledging the gaps. The questions. The need to learn. The desire to improve. That kind of humility, when mixed with elite athletic ability, often yields greatness. The players who keep growing, year over year, are the ones who rise above the rest. Simmons appears determined to be one of them.
And perhaps the most powerful part of his self-made journey is the message it sends to the next generation of players. In an era where hype often outpaces performance, where players sometimes treat college as a brand-building layover, Simmons is reminding everyone what it means to want it. Not just the glory, but the grind. Not just the status, but the substance. He’s making work cool again.
This December, when bowl season hits and the nation debates playoff snubs and draft declarations, remember that somewhere along the way—quietly, methodically—Colin Simmons built something. Not just his body, not just his resume, but his identity as a leader, a worker, and a star in the making. What he’s doing now may not show up in the box score. But it will show up when it matters most—on third and long, when the crowd’s on its feet, the quarterback drops back, and Simmons bursts off the edge with purpose.
That moment is coming. And thanks to the offseason he’s crafting for himself, he’ll be ready.
