The annual ESPN survey of league executives, coaches, and scouts has once again dropped its definitive list, purporting to tell America who the best defensive tackles in the National Football League are right now. I have watched this game, *this brutal, beautiful game*, for more than four decades. I have seen the legends. I have seen the pretenders. I have watched game-wreckers carve out legacies with their bare hands, and I have witnessed the slow, agonizing decline of those who simply couldn’t sustain the unparalleled level of dominance this position demands. So, when I see the results of this survey, particularly at the very pinnacle of the list, I am compelled to ask a question, a fundamental question that I believe many of these so-called “experts” have failed to truly consider: Are we truly ranking the best defensive tackle, or are we simply crowning the beneficiary of a perfectly timed narrative?
Let me tell you something, because I have seen it play out time and time again in this league. The narrative, the shiny new object, the player who caught fire at the exact right moment on the biggest stage – it can blind even the most seasoned observer. And when I look at Leonard Williams, listed as the No. 1 defensive tackle in the entire National Football League heading into the 2026 training camps, I see a narrative that has, in my humble and utterly correct estimation, run away with the truth.
Now, do not misunderstand me. I am not here to diminish what Leonard Williams accomplished last season. I saw the tape. I watched the Seattle Seahawks make their run, and I saw Williams, a man who has always possessed immense talent, finally put together a truly formidable season in Mike Macdonald’s defense. A 38.0% run stop win rate, 7.0 sacks, second-team All-Pro honors – these are not numbers to scoff at. I watched him line up across from offensive linemen, and I saw the confusion, the frustration, the sheer inability to contain him. An NFL coordinator even declared, and I quote, “He was the most important player on that Super Bowl team. He’s the total package.” Another veteran NFC defensive coach echoed this sentiment, stating, “You can line him up in front of the right tackle, the right guard, the center, the left guard, the left tackle — he can beat them all. He’s always had game-changing ability, and he’s putting it all together now.”
But let’s pause for a moment, America. Let’s peel back the layers of this narrative, shall we? “He’s always had game-changing ability.” Yes, he *always has*. Leonard Williams was the sixth overall pick in the 2015 NFL Draft. A can’t-miss prospect, a man-child with the physique and raw power to reshape offenses. I remember the buzz around him coming out of USC. I remember the Jets drafting him, the hope, the expectation. And for years, I watched a player who was *good*, often very good, but never quite the transcendent, game-wrecker his talent promised. He cracked the top five of this very ranking *never* before this year, despite being a consistent starter for a decade. Now, at 32 years old, after a career of flashes and solid play, he suddenly ascends to the undisputed No. 1? A “mild upset,” ESPN calls it. I call it a mild delusion.
This is not to say he hasn’t earned his due. His 120 run-stop wins when double-teamed over the past three seasons, tied for the most in the NFL, are a testament to his sheer will. His 24 tackles on pass plays in 2025 were six more than any other interior lineman. But what I see here is a player who finally found the perfect storm: a brilliant defensive coordinator in Mike Macdonald, a system that maximized his specific skill set, and a team that rose to the occasion around him. He thrived *within* a structure. And while that is commendable, and indeed, essential for team success, it begs the question: Is he the *best* individual force, the most unblockable, game-altering interior defensive lineman in the league, regardless of system, regardless of surrounding talent?
I submit to you, America, he is not. And the proof, the undeniable, irrefutable proof, is standing right there at No. 2 on that very same list: Jeffery Simmons.
Let me tell you something about Jeffery Simmons. This is a man who entered the 2025 campaign, and I watched him do it, shedding 20 pounds not because he was soft, but because he was OBSESSED with enhancing his quickness. Strength was never a question for Simmons. He has been a force of nature since he stepped onto an NFL field. And what were the results of that unparalleled dedication? His best season yet, with 11 sacks, a 16.3% total pass rush win rate – second among all defensive tackles – and 17 tackles for loss, leading all interior linemen. He did this while facing double-teams more than 65% of the time! That win rate, against that level of attention, is nothing short of extraordinary. He forced three fumbles. He recorded 21 quarterback hits. He won 20 pass-rush snaps against double-teams. This man, this absolute MONSTER, earned a first-team All-Pro selection.
And here’s the kicker, the undeniable, glaring piece of evidence that exposes the flaw in this entire ranking: Jeffery Simmons did this on a *three-win team*. A veteran NFL defensive coach, someone whose opinion I trust implicitly because they see the trenches every single Sunday, said it best: “His tape was phenomenal. And it’s even more impressive doing it on a three-win team and getting little help around him.”
Let that sink in, America. Let it truly marinate in your mind. Leonard Williams, on a Super Bowl-contending team, benefiting from a brilliant scheme and talented players around him, including an elite edge rush and a secondary that allows coverage sacks, has a career year at 32. And he is crowned king. Jeffery Simmons, at 28, in the absolute prime of his career, on a team that, frankly, was an unmitigated disaster around him, still put up numbers that scream INDIVIDUAL DOMINANCE. He was a beacon of light in a sea of despair for the Tennessee Titans. He was, and I will argue this until my voice gives out, the *true* game-wrecker, the player who offenses had to account for on every single snap, knowing full well that he was coming, and there was little anyone else on that defense could do to help.
This is not a slight against Williams. He is a phenomenal player. But the difference, the profound, categorical difference, is context. Williams elevated a great defense to elite status. Simmons *was* the defense. He was the one man drawing the double teams, the triple teams, the slide protections, the chip blocks, simply because if you didn’t, he would single-handedly blow up the play. When I think of a player who “can beat them all,” as the NFC coach said, I think of the man who does it when everyone else on the field is struggling. That is Jeffery Simmons.
I have seen this phenomenon before. I remember when Patrick Willis was forced to carry the load for lesser 49ers teams, still putting up All-Pro seasons. I remember watching Aaron Donald, a man I consider the greatest defensive tackle of all time, dominate when the Rams were a laughingstock, before they built a contender around him. The true measure of a game-wrecker, the kind of player who defines the position for a generation, is their ability to transcend their circumstances. To impose their will, regardless of the talent surrounding them, regardless of the scheme, regardless of the record.
Leonard Williams is benefiting from the “Super Bowl bump.” He is benefiting from the “Macdonald magic.” He is benefiting from a career resurgence at the perfect time. All of that is commendable. But it does not make him the best *individual* defensive tackle in the National Football League. It makes him the most impactful defensive tackle *on a great team*. And there is a monumental, legacy-defining difference between those two statements.
This ranking, while attempting to be “right now,” has fallen prey to recency bias and a misinterpretation of what makes a player truly elite. It has elevated a fantastic season within a superb system over consistent, undeniable, and utterly transcendent individual dominance in the face of adversity. This is not a slight on Williams’ talent; it is an indictment of the voters’ inability to look past the shiny new trophy and see the enduring, relentless, self-made force of nature that is Jeffery Simmons.
When you are the unquestioned leader, the focal point of every opponent’s game plan, the man who commands double teams even when your team is losing by 30 points, *that* is the definition of a game-wrecker. That is the true measure of a defensive tackle. And I am telling you, America, when I look at the tape, when I look at the numbers, when I look at the sheer, unadulterated will to dominate, Jeffery Simmons is the gold standard. He is the man who should be at the top of that list. His individual impact, his ability to bend games to his will, even when the rest of the world around him is crumbling, is unparalleled.
I SAID THIS IN MARCH, and I will say it again now: The true measure of a player is not just what they accomplish, but *how* they accomplish it. And Jeffery Simmons, through sheer force of will and unyielding dedication, has proven, without a shadow of a doubt, that he is the most dominant, the most impactful, and yes, the BEST defensive tackle in the National Football League. To suggest otherwise is not just wrong; IT IS AN AFFRONT TO THE VERY ESSENCE OF WHAT WE DEMAND FROM THE ELITE! You can have your narratives. I’LL TAKE THE TRUTH.
