You ever read something, and it hits you — not because it’s sharp, but because it’s sloppy? That’s the Tyler Dunne article. Blasting Caleb Williams as some spoiled, insubordinate, rookie meltdown sounds sexy — until you peel back the layers. Let’s go claim-by-claim, give the kid a fair shake, and see who’s really at fault. Spoiler: Unless you believe rookie QBs should be flawless, you’re gonna see who really failed here — and it wasn’t just Caleb.
Before we even dive into the individual claims, let’s be clear: this story isn't just about what Caleb Williams did or didn’t do. It’s about the full picture Tyler Dunne chose not to paint — the timing of the article, the tone, the sourcing, and the glaring omission of systemic dysfunction around the Bears organization. Dunne’s piece makes big accusations but offers little accountability for the crumbling infrastructure around the rookie QB. So let's tackle this piece step-by-step — not just to defend Caleb, but to expose the full context missing from Dunne’s one-sided narrative.
Claim 1: “Williams regularly walked away from coaches… disrespected, insubordinate”
Dunne’s Spin: Williams turned his back on coaches during instruction. The big moment? December 26, 2024, when interim HC Thomas Brown allegedly screamed, “Get your ass back here right now!” over the headset.
Counter Reality: The Bears were exploding midseason: firing Matt Eberflus, bench-shuffling the offense, internal chaos all around. The offensive playbook was a disaster under Shane Waldron, players were calling out coaches publicly, and the locker room was leaking like a sieve. When you ask a 22-year-old rookie to walk into that mess and act like a 10-year vet, you're setting him up to fail. Defensive posture in that environment isn’t arrogance — it’s survival instinct. That reported December 26 incident? Williams not only apologized, but multiple insiders later confirmed he was reacting to inconsistent sideline communication and conflicting instructions from a fractured coaching staff.
Let’s not forget: Thomas Brown, the guy allegedly screaming at Williams, was an interim coach trying to hold together a house of cards. And now? Under Ben Johnson’s clear, no-BS leadership, not a single whisper of attitude issues or sideline drama. The same player, different structure — and suddenly everything clicks. If Williams was the problem, those patterns would follow him. They haven’t. The problem wasn’t Caleb — it was the circus around him, the kind that eats promising QBs alive if left unchecked.
Claim 2: “William’s fundamentals were… sloppy — huddle calls, forgot motions, wristband confusion”
Dunne’s Spin: “It’s like the wristband’s in a foreign language,” says someone—or, you know, a fired coach frustrated it wasn’t working.
Counter Reality: Rookie QBs struggle. Every damn year. Josh Allen couldn’t even break 60% completion rate out of the gate. Peyton Manning led the league in interceptions his rookie year. Trevor Lawrence’s first year was a mess under Urban Meyer. This is a brutal league for young quarterbacks, especially when they’re parachuted into organizations with more dysfunction than direction.
Let’s add some context here: Caleb Williams had to digest Shane Waldron’s convoluted playbook while being coached by a staff on its last legs. According to multiple reports from in-house media and even beat reporters, Waldron’s offense was not only poorly implemented, it lacked cohesion week to week. That instability trickled down into the quarterback room. Yet despite this, Williams still managed to throw for 3,541 yards — 5th all-time for a Bears QB — and added a 20:6 TD to INT ratio. That’s not just solid for a rookie, that’s impressive given the context.
And let’s be honest about this wristband drama. Tons of rookies have used a damn wristband. It’s NFL standard when you’re adjusting from a spread-heavy college offense to a full-blown pro-style scheme. Patrick Mahomes wore one early. Lamar Jackson relied on one deep into his second year. If anything, Williams showing up and grinding through the process despite a busted infrastructure is a credit to his adaptability, not a black mark on his fundamentals.
Claim 3: “Poor work ethic, didn’t pay attention, skipped film and weight rooms”
Dunne’s Spin: Williams was quiet in meetings, on the wrong page, and skipping film sessions.
Counter Reality: The kid’s private QB coach, Will Hewlett, has known him since 7th grade. He’s been working with elite-level talent for over a decade and says Caleb is among the most committed athletes he's coached. Hewlett has emphasized that Williams doesn’t just watch film — he breaks it down like a coach. He’s known for logging extra hours, doing walkthroughs on his own time, and even asking Hewlett to simulate opposing defenses during the offseason so he can prep his reads in real time. That’s not laziness — that’s obsessive competitiveness.
Williams has also said in multiple interviews, including with The Athletic and Bleacher Report, that he prefers to do independent study because he absorbs information better when he’s not being spoon-fed. That doesn’t mean he’s disengaged; it means he’s wired differently. In fact, this learning style mirrors guys like Aaron Rodgers and Justin Herbert, who are both known for deep, self-directed preparation.
During his time at USC, coaches often cited his hunger to understand every layer of the game, from protections to receiver reads to defensive coverages. Lincoln Riley said Williams “sees the game like a coach” and “wants answers to everything.” That same mentality has carried into the NFL. Players like DJ Moore and Cole Kmet have publicly praised his leadership and attention to detail in film study. Even strength and conditioning coaches have noted that Williams rarely misses lifts and often sticks around afterward to throw routes or work on footwork.
So this whole “slacker” claim? It’s not just a misread — it’s straight fiction propped up by anonymous sources with questionable motives. Every shred of verifiable evidence says Williams is exactly the kind of QB who lives in the film room and thrives in structure. The issue was never his effort — it was the dysfunctional setup around him.
Claim 4: “Demanded Bears change snap count to ‘Ready, set, go!’—like JV”
Dunne’s Spin: Williams insisted on a watered-down cadence.
Counter Reality: Coaching adaptation, not diva demands. Simplifying cadence is rookie-friendly and widely used to reduce mental load. Coaches across the league routinely modify cadence, verbiage, and play structure to ease the transition for rookie quarterbacks adjusting from college ball. Joe Burrow, Justin Fields, and even C.J. Stroud had their systems tailored in Year 1 — nobody called it special treatment.
Shane Waldron and the Bears offensive staff weren’t reinventing the wheel by simplifying things. They were doing what any competent staff would do — trying to set up a struggling unit for success. Multiple insiders from the team confirmed the decision to move toward "Ready, set, go!" cadence came from the coaching staff in collaboration with the QB room, not some rookie demand meeting gone wild. Even Matt Hasselbeck has publicly said simplified cadences are often a net positive when a quarterback is dealing with overload from poor protection and excessive reads.
Besides, we’re talking about a quarterback who got sacked 68 times behind one of the most porous offensive lines in football. Streamlining his cadence to improve communication and speed things up isn’t a concession — it’s smart strategy. If a veteran asked for the same, it would’ve been praised as leadership. The fact it came from a rookie doesn’t change its legitimacy.
This whole accusation sounds less like an indictment of Williams and more like bitterness from coaches whose scheme fell apart. Simplifying cadence doesn’t mean a player is soft — it means the coaches are adjusting to help their player succeed. That’s literally what coaching is supposed to be.
Claim 5: “Wrong verbal call half the time… players all over the field”
Dunne’s Spin: “The kid was wrong half the time” calling plays, according to sources.
Counter Reality: You’re telling me that this team had a QB who was supposedly wrong half of the time on play calls, yet he still broke Bears rookie records? That doesn’t pass the sniff test — it’s flat-out unbelievable. To me that claim is not just sloppy — it’s catastrophic, and it would be evident in every offensive snap. There’s no hiding that level of dysfunction. If Williams was truly miscalling half the plays, you’d see busted protections, blown alignments, illegal formations, and procedural penalties every other drive. The tape doesn’t show that. In fact, the Bears' pre-snap efficiency actually improved as the season went on, particularly in no-huddle and two-minute drills.
By season’s close, Williams was executing like a grown-ass leader — running tempo, managing clock, and getting the offense lined up with command. His two-minute numbers were among the most efficient for rookie QBs in 2024, and Bears insiders credited his ability to process under pressure as a key reason why the offense started to stabilize. ESPN’s advanced metrics ranked him in the top half of the league in fourth-quarter passer rating — something that wouldn’t be remotely possible if he were butchering half the huddle calls.
What this sounds like is classic damage control from coaches who failed to teach a system effectively and needed a scapegoat when the offense cratered. The reality is, there’s no credible evidence Williams was that inaccurate with play calls — because if he was, the team would’ve imploded long before January.
Claim 6: “Williams has dyslexia, hidden from coaches, GM knew”
Dunne’s Spin: Sources suggest Poles knew of Williams’ dyslexia pre-draft but withheld it from the coaching staff until late.
Counter Reality: If that's true, I'm finding it hard to believe that Dyslexia had a negative impact on last season. To start off, it doesn’t have to block greatness — but it can show a testament to his mental endurance. Just look at players like Rashan Gary, Frank Gore, and Mark Schlereth, who not only thrived in the NFL but credited their learning differences with giving them a unique edge in processing and preparation. We have seen Williams manage an NFL playbook, weekly installs, and post-snap reads and he has not demonstrated being a liability if under these circumstances — it’s impressive.
Let’s not forget, dyslexia isn’t a cognitive deficiency — it’s a difference in processing, and often a signal of heightened visual-spatial awareness and creativity, traits that actually benefit quarterbacks. Coaches from USC noted how Williams often preferred to see plays drawn out or walked through instead of just read from the board — classic visual learner behavior. That doesn’t make him less intelligent, it means he needs a system tailored to how his brain works — and good coaching does exactly that.
More importantly, Ben Johnson’s staff has reportedly adjusted their install meetings, shifting toward more hands-on and scenario-based learning formats, and the results have been obvious. Williams has flourished under Johnson’s simplified terminology, clean play designs, and visual learning integrations — an approach that mirrors how teams successfully coached guys like Malcolm Jenkins and Chris Borland, both of whom have dealt with similar learning differences.
If anything, the fact that Williams potentially dealt with dyslexia and still processed high-level schemes while being sacked nearly 70 times proves his capacity to adapt under fire. The narrative should be one of resilience, not ridicule. The NFL’s future belongs to teams that adapt to how players learn — not the ones stuck judging intelligence by how someone reads off of a whiteboard.
Claim 7: “He was telling veteran receivers how to run routes before taking reps himself”
Dunne’s Spin: Williams was apparently instructing veterans on route timing — like he’s the guy.
Counter Reality: Real quarterbacks communicate. If he’s in there talking timing to veteran receivers, that’s leadership, not arrogance. Quarterbacks are expected to be the hub of offensive communication, and the best ones — rookies or not — take initiative early. Peyton Manning and Russell Wilson were known for taking over huddles early in their careers, directing veterans, and getting everyone on the same page. It wasn’t arrogance — it was ownership.
This isn’t some guy barking orders for ego’s sake. By all accounts, Williams was asking questions, clarifying timing, and ensuring routes were synced with what he was seeing in the film room. That’s how chemistry gets built in the NFL, and it’s especially important for rookies who are trying to compress years of experience into a few months. You don’t build timing without talking. Coaches at USC praised his habit of pulling receivers aside for route discussions, and Bears receivers like DJ Moore and Rome Odunze have both publicly stated they appreciate Williams' attention to detail and communication in practices.
Leadership isn’t about waiting until you’re a ten-year vet to speak up. It’s about earning trust through prep, communication, and results. Williams stepping up to talk through routes is evidence of command — not entitlement. And veterans who take issue with that? Maybe they're not the leaders they think they are.
Claim 8: “The Bears dumbed down the offense to suit his “demands””
Dunne’s Spin: Playbook trimmed, huddle minimized, to fit Williams’ robin‑egg needs.
Counter Reality: The offense wasn’t dumbed down for one person — it was shredded for everyone. Shane Waldron’s system was falling apart before Caleb even stepped into the huddle. Multiple Bears players voiced their frustration with the overly complicated scheme that didn’t fit their personnel or play style. Execution was poor, communication was worse, and Waldron was ultimately fired midseason because his offense failed to do the most basic thing: score points.
Simplifying an offensive system isn’t some patronizing move to accommodate a rookie’s feelings — it’s Coaching 101 when your unit is underperforming. Go watch film from other rookie QB seasons —Justin Herbert, C.J. Stroud, even Trevor Lawrence — all had their systems trimmed and clarified to build confidence and speed up development. It’s what smart coaches do.
And let’s not act like the change didn’t yield results. As soon as the offense was simplified, tempo improved, protection calls became clearer, and Williams was able to play faster and more instinctively. That’s not coddling — that’s removing self-inflicted obstacles. Ben Johnson’s success with Williams in OTAs and preseason only reinforces this: with a coherent scheme and clear verbiage, he is thriving. The issue wasn’t the depth of the playbook — it was the lack of clarity and alignment from the coaching staff. Simplification wasn’t surrender — it was salvation.
The Stuff Dunne Didn’t Touch — But Should’ve
Let’s zoom out a minute. Even beyond Dunne’s shaky claims, there’s a mountain of context he conveniently skips. First: those 32 anonymous sources? They're almost entirely presumably fired coaches, personnel guys, and front-office leftovers trying to save face. It reads like an ex-employee group chat got dumped into an article. Credibility here is suspect — not because anonymous sourcing is bad journalism, but because it’s obvious the motives are murky.
And second, let’s stop pretending Caleb didn’t perform. He set the Bears' rookie total yardage record, protected the football (only 6 INTs on 500+ attempts), and did it all while getting sacked a league-leading 68 times. That’s not dysfunction — that’s production in the face of chaos.
The broader picture here is one of institutional failure. Chicago has butchered quarterback development for over a decade. Fields, Trubisky, Cutler — it’s a graveyard. That doesn’t magically become Caleb’s fault. If anything, his early production and improvement under a functional coach like Ben Johnson proves the opposite: we have the right pick, the culture around him just needed a reset.
So when Dunne paints a portrait of a QB who can’t lead, won’t work, and doesn’t get it — he’s not revealing hard truths. He’s recycling bitterness. Williams isn’t just surviving a broken culture — he’s the first guy in years who might finally break it.
Final Verdict
Let’s call this what it is: a fire-breathing narrative cooked up by displaced staff, backed by anonymous sources, meant to deflect blame — and sell clicks. It’s not investigative journalism — it’s defensive venting.
Do I think Tyler Dunne has a history of being a good journalist? Sure, that’s fair. But I do have issues with this Bears article. The timing is odd — dropping days before the season kicks off — and words like “sashayed” and “glitzy gazelle” aren’t just cringeworthy, they border on coded language that undermines the tone of serious reporting. It’s not quoted, not sourced, and it reads more like editorial flair than factual journalism. That kind of language muddies credibility and risks crossing into unnecessary character-shading with homophobic undertones.
Were Dunne’s sources reliable? Sure — maybe in the sense that they exist. But were they biased? There’s no doubt about that. I’m not saying Dunne’s process was flawed, but when the bulk of your quotes more than likely come from fired staffers with every reason to cover their own asses, maybe don’t treat it as gospel.
The real Caleb Williams? A Heisman champ, a competitive leader, a rookie overwhelmed by a rotten organizational culture — and who, when put in a stable system, has already started demonstrating real growth.
Dunne’s portrayal? A mismatch between a rookie’s coping behavior and professional breakdown. When you strip away the rage-laden quotes and look at performance, talent, and recent progression — Caleb Williams isn’t the sole problem. Football is a complex game full of variables that tie into success or failure. Coaching, culture, protection, play-calling — it all matters. To fully pin the disaster that was last year on a 22-year-old kid feels very... odd. The problem was more nuanced— and Williams might be the one they’ll still be thankful for down the road.
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