GLENDALE, Ariz. -- Minkah Fitzpatrick might have mulled it over for, oh, a millisecond or two.
He'd been texting as I approached his stall late this week back home at the Rooney Complex, but he politely put down the phone upon seeing my own phone elevated for a possible interview. This wouldn't be any extended thing, I told him right away. Just a single, simple question, and wherever it went, it went. Because everything else I'd need would be culled from those around him.
The question: What's resonated with him the most about being part of the Steelers?
"Easy," came the post-millisecond response. "It's the closeness. No question, the closeness. It's the closeness between the players. It's between the players and the coaches. It's all the way up, really. It's everybody. It's how everybody supports each other. There are no individuals in here. A lot of places have that. You know, all the egos. That doesn't exist here."
He paused a moment, looked down, then reset eye contact and added, "Everything just fits. You know what I'm saying?"
Oh, yeah. All good.
And oh, man, I thought next, I can't even recall what it was like before this guy showed up and started picking off passes, pouncing on fumbles, putting up points and making us all gush about Troy Polamalu, Rod Woodson and any other historical reference to a defensive prodigy who'd come to mind.
We weren't alone, either.
"That player," as Vince Williams presciently told me in the immediate aftermath of Fitzpatrick's debut, Sept. 22 in Santa Clara, Calif., "is special."
And all Fitzpatrick had produced that day, after three whole practices and just as many long nights of playbook-cramming, was an interception and a forced fumble in the 24-20 loss to the 49ers. After which he'd never let up, week after week, now with five total interceptions, two forced fumbles, three fumble recoveries, nine passes defended and two touchdowns heading into the game here today, 4:25 p.m., against the Cardinals at State Farm Stadium.
It's been the trade of the year in the NFL, if not all of professional sports.
It's been the trade of a generation for the franchise.
It's been, with all due respect to Mike Tomlin, his other 52 players and everyone else involved, what's saved a season that should've been long-lost by now.
But we know all that now. We've come to expect it and, even amid a defense that's got another NFL Player of the Year candidate in T.J. Watt and several other breakouts and standouts, we've come to appreciate it.
The less expected, less appreciated element of Fitzpatrick's arrival, has been the uplifting effect on the individuals closest to him on the field, and that's what I'd most hoped to explore further. It couldn't be clearer that he's had an immense impact on the defense as a whole, including statistically, since the Steelers were picked apart across the middle by Tom Brady and Russell Wilson in Weeks 1 and 2 before the trade. But that also had to apply to individuals.
And it has.
Chiefly, that's been on Terrell Edmunds.
Anyone still recall when he was being branded -- very unfairly -- an imminent first-round bust because of his lack of splash?
Well, he's still seeking his first interception or takeaway of any sort, but he's also been a solid presence closer to the line of scrimmage with 67 tackles, and his three passes defended included a gorgeous game-saver against the Rams. Which, if reviewing the record, was precisely the type of safety the Steelers thought they'd drafted.
"I think we both help each other, really," Edmunds told me when asked of Fitzpatrick's effect on him. "That's one of the reasons, I think, he embraced us the way he did when he got here, because he wanted to play deep, he wanted to play free roam, and I could just go down in the box and play where I'm most comfortable."
That's an accurate, if delicately worded assessment, of Fitzpatrick's stance before the trade he forced because the Dolphins kept bouncing him all over their backfield and put him into positions where, basically, he was being asked to serve as an extra linebacker to compensate for how bad they were up front. He hated it, he wanted out, and he got out.
It took no more than a day or two before Fitzpatrick and Edmunds became friends.
"That's how we roll," Edmunds said. "We play hand in hand with each other. We hope to be doing it for a long time."
Edmunds is 22, Fitzpatrick 23.
It doesn't stop there, though. I could cite Cam Sutton as having almost silently emerged as one of the league's highest-graded slot corners in coverage. Or Bud Dupree erupting into an elite pass-rusher in part because he isn't required to drop into coverage nearly as often. Or Devin Bush getting a break through some mid-season blues because Edmunds can stay closer to the line.
There are so many more players to mention, as well as corresponding schemes. But here's how Keith Butler applies it in its most foundational form: Fitzpatrick's the one -- every time -- assigned to roles where there are multiple scenarios to cover. Meaning he might might have a zone assignment but still be trusted to read the play and react accordingly if a zone doesn't apply. That's why you'll see him occasionally isolate a single target right away, abandoning the zone concept almost from the snap.
"It's an instinct for that," as Butler said. "It's something we haven't had in a while."
In turn, Edmunds and Sutton benefit the most. Edmunds can be the prototypical strong safety, supporting the run, covering a single assigned target and even going for the big hit. Sutton can just be a slot corner, rather than being exposed as he was on the edges in 2018.
That, of course, also helps both starting corners, Joe Haden and Steven Nelson, in knowing there's a ballhawk at their back and maybe taking a gamble or two of their own toward a dynamic play.
Watch this, from the Browns' final drive a week ago:
The Steelers are in a Cover 3. Fitzpatrick's aware of what's left open, as well as Jarvis Landry being Baker Mayfield's preferred target. So, even though Fitzpatrick's assigned to a zone with an aim of preventing the big play, he hangs near midfield and jumps Landry in what should've been a soft seam, forcing Mayfield to throw high and allowing Haden to be the hero.
Seriously, what's the free safety doing closer to the line than the corners with a touchdown lead to protect?
That's the answer.
To everything.
"He changes everything," Kam Kelly, one of the safeties who's now primarily on special teams was telling me of Fitzpatrick. "It's how quarterbacks are looking at our defense -- all our guys -- in the right place and wondering if they should throw the ball. That gets our big guys up front that extra time to get after him. It's all one process."
Dupree essentially echoed that.
"What those guys in the back are able to do, the way Minkah's taken charge in the middle, we just pin the ears back and go," he told me. "That's the way we like it, too."
So did Watt.
"It feels like we're not even thinking out there sometimes," he told. "We're just getting after it. And that's when football's fun."
All of them pointed to Fitzpatrick. No exceptions. No hesitation.
Williams is among the locker room's most thoughtful, candid players. He's cautious with excessive praise, and he'll go out of his way to tamper it upon hearing. So take the following in precisely that context.
"It's Minkah. Whatever you want to write about," he'd tell me, "your answer is Minkah."