Even though there’s still plenty of football left to be played this season, performance coaches and draft prep specialists across the country already have their eyes on what’s next: combine prep season.
For football performance specialists, it’s both the most rewarding and the most stressful time of the year. Months of preparation come down to seconds, inches, and pounds. Then, in one weekend, athletes you’ve poured into for years put it all on the line: versus the stopwatch, the measuring tape, the Vertec, and the barbell. And when one of your guys hears his name called on Draft Day? That moment makes every early morning and late-night session worth it. It’s the culmination of years of work, theirs and yours, that provides immense gratification.
Having athletes trust you to prepare them for the biggest job interview of their lives is a privilege reserved for the best in the business. Entire facilities build their reputations around Combine prep. But here’s the thing, even the best coaches in the world would agree that the way we evaluate football talent is… incomplete. The current Combine system does a great job of measuring who’s good at preparing for the Combine. But does it really identify who’s best suited to play on Sundays?
With another round of Combine prep looming, this is the moment to finally say what everyone else is thinking, yet avoiding. The goal is simple: to spark a conversation about how we can evolve our testing methods to reflect what actually matters on the field.
The good news? We can fix what’s outdated without throwing the baby out with the bathwater. We should reflect upon what’s still valuable, what’s due for an upgrade, and how we can redefine the metrics that truly matter.
Keep or Kill: What Still Matters (and What Needs a Rethink)
Before diving into what should change, let’s be clear: this isn’t about scrapping tradition. The Combine has served its purpose of standardizing testing; it creates competition, provides data points and assists coaches, scouts, and agents in understanding player (or physical) potential. That said, it’s time to evolve. We’ll keep what still matters, overhaul what doesn’t, and update the classics to fit the modern game.
The Jumps
The vertical and broad jump have long been cornerstones of Combine testing. While they’re clean expressions of lower-body power, they are also limited in what they may reveal.
A 40-inch vertical looks great on paper (and in reality, to be fair), but it doesn’t tell us how they got there. Was it elastic, reactive, or driven by raw strength? Was there an imbalance between concentric and eccentric output? Was there a large inter-limb imbalance?
That’s where the addition of tools like force decks can help provide further context into athletic performance and allow us to “take a look under the hood,” so-to-speak. Systems like VALD have established strong normative data for both the countermovement jump (CMJ) and squat jump (SJ), allowing coaches to identify not just how high an athlete jumps, but how efficiently they generate and absorb force.
Better yet, these insights can be tailored to positional demands. A receiver’s jump profile shouldn’t necessarily look like a lineman’s. For example, the Squat Jump and its associated metrics (such as Peak Power relative to Body Mass and Time to Takeoff) may be more predictive of performance in the trenches, whereas perimeter players’ performance may be better captured by measures like Countermovement Jump Height and RSI-Mod. Understanding strength deficits and reactive strength indexes (RSI) by position gives us much more actionable information.
The best part is, it’s no longer hypothetical. Leagues like the OHL and CFL have begun using force decks in their combine testing batteries. The evolution is underway; the NFL just needs to catch up.
Bench Press
Let’s call it what it is — the 225-rep bench press test has run its course. Originally meant to measure upper-body strength and endurance, it’s now more of a performance art. After all, we must realize the typical duration of an average football play. In doing so, it should be come pretty evident why a set of bench press that last 45 seconds has little-to-no correlation to optimal performance.
As Sean Hayes of the UFL and others have argued, it’s time to replace or at least complement this test with something more meaningful: velocity-based profiling or isometric strength assessments that actually connect to football performance.
Upper body power matters, but the traditional bench press doesn’t measure it. If we care about how force translates to the field, whether that’s a lineman striking or a receiver shedding a tackle, we need data that reflects usable strength and rate of force development: not just grit through 30 reps. As Coach Hayes has begun doing with his unique UFL combine, we could look to standardize Barbell weights based on position (e.g. 225 for skill positions, 275 for combo guys, and 315 for trench players) and have the athletes hit 3 reps with the aforementioned loads, measuring metrics like power output in wattage which would likely correlate better to on-field performance.
Speed
The 40-yard dash is the Combine’s crown jewel: and maybe its biggest illusion. Yes, top-end speed is exciting and relevant, but it rarely reflects or represents how the game is played. GPS data now lets us see max velocity in context, along with acceleration patterns and positional speed profiles. A linebacker or lineman’s first three steps may be more predictive of success than their 40 time. A receiver’s in-game max velocity under fatigue might tell us more about readiness and resilience.
We as football preparation specialists also know that a large portion of 40-yard-dash performance can be attributed simply to a better three-point stance. The question isn’t just how fast an athlete runs in a straight line with perfect technique, but how quickly they reach top speed and how that speed translates to actual gameplay. We’re finally at a point technologically where we can measure this while removing technical aspects like the start stance, so why are we still timing sprints with hand clocks and lasers? We can do better.
Change of Direction (COD) vs. Agility
By now, it should be common knowledge: the classic “agility” tests (namely, the 5-10-5 shuttle and the L-Drill) are misnamed. These are change-of-direction tests, not agility tests. True agility involves reactivity and decision-making, not predetermined movement patterns. That doesn’t make COD tests useless per se, they’re just incomplete. What’s more valuable are positional movement assessments that reflect the demands of real play: how efficiently an athlete brakes, re-accelerates, and changes direction in a football context.
If we really want to assess agility, we need to turn on the film because context matters. The ability to read, react, and make movement decisions under pressure is what separates practice heroes from game-day performers. It’s often said that the players who post the fastest 40-yard dash times look slow on the field during their first years in the NFL, and that as they gain experience, the game “slows down” for them. That idea alone should make it clear that true football speed is about much more than running from point A to point B; it’s about doing so while reading, reacting, deciding, and executing in real time.
Evolving the Game — and the Testing
Games evolve. Schemes change. Positions adapt. The way we test and prepare athletes should too. The Combine, as it currently stands, measures preparation for the Combine, not necessarily readiness for the NFL. But with the advancements in sport science, force diagnostics, and data interpretation, we now have the tools to redefine what “ready” really means. Coaches owe it to their athletes to evolve with the game. Because just as players are in constant pursuit of better, more efficient performance, so should we be.
Closing Thoughts
The goal isn’t to replace the Combine: it’s to refine it. The better our testing reflects the realities of the game, the better we serve the athletes who dedicate their lives to playing it. The Combine should measure football ability, not test-taking skill. It’s time we stop rewarding guys for mastering the test and start rewarding those who master the game.