‘A rush of adrenaline’: As his son fights for a job with Ravens, Qadry Ismail watches — and winces

After a muggy Saturday afternoon practice, Ravens coach John Harbaugh came up to Qadry Ismail with a question. Ismail, the former Ravens wide receiver, was at training camp in his capacity as both an analyst for WJZ and a football dad; his son Qadir, a tight end, had signed with Baltimore in May. Now he was trying to make the team.

“John don’t waste his time for nobody,” Qadry recalled recently. “So he didn’t have to come back. He came back over; he was like, ‘You know, I want to say this about Qadir: Where’d he get his toughness from? ... He’s a football player.’”

A football player. Ismail couldn’t imagine many higher compliments from Harbaugh. The Ravens were less than a week away from Friday’s preseason opener at M&T Bank Stadium against the Philadelphia Eagles, and Harbaugh wanted to know more about the undrafted rookie wide receiver turned tight end.

“Is the moment going to be too big for him?” Qadry recalled Harbaugh asking him. Qadir had impressed in offseason practices and over the first two weeks of camp, but his future in Baltimore could depend on his preseason performance. A few days later, Qadry almost scoffed thinking about the question. “We’ve been doing this our whole life. This ain’t nothing new. This is the next progression. What, did we come up here just to be, ‘Hey, look, we did two days in camp and we had a nice camp. Aw, isn’t that cute’?”

There is no rarer perspective at this Ravens training camp than Qadry’s. He is a proud father of three. He’s a de facto agent and self-proclaimed consigliere for Qadir. He’s also a Super Bowl winner well attuned to the promise and peril of the profession. On an eventful Tuesday afternoon in Owings Mills, The Baltimore Banner shadowed Qadry as he watched his son at practice.

1:26 p.m.: “I know my shit,” Qadry says for the first time, and certainly not the last time, over the course of a two-hour practice. Of course he does. Qadir, who starred at The John Carroll School, started his college career as a quarterback at Villanova and finished it as a lightly targeted wide receiver at Samford, probably wouldn’t be here if his dad didn’t know his you-know-what.

But this month, as the Ravens whittle their roster from 91 players to 53 and fill out a 16-man practice squad, the most salient wisdom Qadry can impart to his son might be about loss. He knows what it feels like to be on football’s fringes, adrift in what he calls his “wilderness experience.” In the two seasons before Qadry arrived in Baltimore in 1999 and racked up 68 catches for 1,105 yards, he played in 13 combined games for the Miami Dolphins and New Orleans Saints and had zero catches.

The 6-foot-6 Qadir does not have his dad’s blazing speed. He does not even have much of a college resume: 26 catches for 321 yards over the past three seasons at Villanova and Samford. His lone college touchdown came at quarterback six years ago. A job in Baltimore will have to be earned partly, if not entirely, on his special teams work. When inside linebacker Chris Board, a special teams leader, bests Qadir easily on one repetition early in practice, Qadry almost winces.

“Knowing my shit, every little detail matters with everything that he does,” he says. “The moment he walks out of the room into a meeting room from the cafeteria, to the way he greets people, to the way he comes out here, the way he performs, the way he interacts with teammates, the way he interacts with coaches, it all matters.”

1:41 p.m.: The Ravens transition into positional work. Qadir jogs to the corner of an adjacent field, where tight ends coach George Godsey is overseeing drills. Passersby shout out to the players they recognize: Mark Andrews, Isaiah Likely, Patrick Ricard.

The rest toil in relative anonymity. Among them, only Charlie Kolar has caught a pass in his NFL career. Scotty Washington has played for four practice squads, including the Ravens’. Rookies Riley Sharp and Mike Rigerman, like Qadir, were undrafted. Unlike Qadir, they didn’t have to wait until weeks after the draft for an NFL deal.

There’s much to learn. Qadir didn’t start working with the team’s tight ends until near the end of the Ravens’ offseason program, in June. Qadry urges him to look to Andrews and Likely as exemplars. “OK, what are they doing?” he says. “Because, whatever they’re doing, it’s effective and working. So you’ve got to glean off of guys.”

Qadir’s receiving ability has translated well. It’s the newer parts of the position that are more challenging. Qadir never had to worry about in-line blocking at Villanova or Samford, Qadry says. One day, Qadir asked Ricard for advice.

“Pat was, like, the man,” Qadry says. “I had no idea. There’s, like, little things that Pat did with his footwork that I would have had no clue about. And yet, at the same time, Pat could’ve been like, ‘I’m a vet. I don’t need to tell you shit.’ Man, he asked, and he was like, ‘Boom.’ Just gave him a whole big-time tutorial.”

Qadir has been one of the Ravens’ most improved players since organized team activities. The staff’s level of instruction has helped significantly; Qadry called Godsey a “godsend” for Qadir. At Villanova, Qadry lamented, there was detail and understanding among the team’s coaches but little effective communication. At Samford, he says, some of the coaching was “awful.” Qadir loved the sport, Qadry says, but too often lacked the mentors to harness his passion.

“You should be loving it as a coach, so you can help me help myself and help my team,” Qadry says, explaining his son’s frustrations. “And that’s one of the things that really chaps my ass. It’s not the numbers that he didn’t get because of those statements I just made. It’s the fact that, well, that’s what you’re supposed to do. All the times that I had people help me, I thrived.”

Qadry points to Godsey, fine-tuning Qadir’s technique during a run-blocking drill. “He’s coaching this group — not just my son — but this group to thrive. Sometimes other coaches coach their group to keep a job. I’ve been on that side, and it sucks, because then all you do is acquiesce to the star player, and the star player don’t get no better, either.”

2:14 p.m.: Qadir gets his first 11-on-11 reps of the day. One of his first plays is an inside run. “If ever there was a play that sucked,” Qadry had said, half-jokingly, about 20 minutes earlier, “it’s inside run.”

Qadir lines up outside the left tackle, across from undrafted rookie defensive end C.J. Ravenell. The size disparity is apparent; Ravenell is listed at 6-5 and 292 pounds. Qadir weighs 245 pounds, according to Qadry, and even that weight class is unfamiliar. In college, he weighed about 220.

At the snap, Qadir comes off the line to engage Ravenell. He does not occupy him for long. Ravenell swims past Qadir and enters the backfield for a would-be tackle for loss.

“In my mind,” Qadry says, “that wasn’t good.”

2:21 p.m.: Qadir tries to separate over the middle from cornerback Damarion “Pepe” Williams, who gets his hands on the rookie as he stems his route. No flag is thrown. No target is earned.

“I’m going to tell him after practice, ‘Hey, when you’ve got the NFL guys like [referee] Clete Blakeman and his crew, you might want to just look at the back judge and give the holding sign and then just jog back,’” Qadry says. “Like, ‘Make a mental note, dude. Don’t let him get away with that.’ They’ve been doing that a lot. It’s all fun and games in practice, but it ain’t when it’s third-and-18 and you ain’t off the field because it’s an automatic first down because of holding. So it ain’t helping Qadir out, but it sure ain’t helping you out.”

2:22 p.m.: Qadir runs a deep crossing route and catches a touchdown pass over safety Daryl Worley. Qadry’s eyes bulge.

“If I had a heart rate monitor on me right now, you would feel the dub-dub-dub-dub-dub,” he jokes, the thrumming of his heartbeat sounding like the whirring blades of a helicopter. “There was a rush of adrenaline.”

This is still new to him. For years, Qadry had watched Ravens touchdowns in training camp almost dispassionately. Now it’s his son scoring. It’s his son, who seven months ago was taking meticulous notes on the Ravens’ Week 17 blowout of the Miami Dolphins from his seat at M&T Bank Stadium, to prove to his father that he was serious about his NFL dreams. It’s his son, the one with the same name on the back of the jersey now in the end zone.

Qadry takes a deep breath. “I’ve got to come down to homeostasis, because there’s more practice left. That’s shit’s real, man. That’s no joke.”

2:37 p.m.: Qadir dives for a pass from undrafted rookie quarterback Emory Jones but loses control of the ball as he crashes to the ground. He’s slow to get up. Two athletic trainers tend to Qadir’s upper body as he walks off the field gingerly.

Qadry watches. He hums a faint tune. (Usually, he says, it’s Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror.”) He cradles a Gyro Ball, an exercise tool he uses to strengthen his wrist and forearm — and to pass the time at camp. When Qadir jogs over to join the tight ends in offense-only work, Qadry finally speaks out: “Hallelujah.” Undrafted rookies can’t afford to miss practice for long.

“What happened was, when he was going down, he caught it, and then [made] contact to the ground — oooh! Gets the wind knocked out of you,” he says. “Now my mind goes to recovery mode, and what do I need to do to help him, make him feel better.”

A few minutes later, Qadir’s back on the field. A few minutes after that, he scores another touchdown.

3:07 p.m.: Qadir lines up for another run-blocking rep. This time, his mark is more appropriately sized: starting inside linebacker Trenton Simpson. The play’s design calls for Qadir to set the edge against Simpson, listed at 6-2 and 235 pounds. But the matchup is a mismatch: As Qadir’s arms lock out, Simpson tosses him aside and crashes into the backfield for a stop on rookie running back Rasheen Ali.

Qadir did not enter training camp with modest ambitions, Qadry explains. Making the practice squad was only a tertiary goal. He wanted to make the 53-man roster. He wanted to contribute on special teams as a rookie.

“One of the things I think people make a mistake on is, they set the bar too low for themselves and then they act accordingly,” Qadry says. “That’s what some of the young guys don’t get.”

Qadry, who founded and operates the Missile Training facility in Whiteford, recalls a former client of his, a cornerback whose family celebrated him signing with the Washington Commanders as if it were a Super Bowl berth. “They threw a party. They had a personal cake made for him. They had all the backdrop.” Not long after, Qadry says, the cornerback was cut.

When Qadir signed with the Ravens, Qadry reminded him it guaranteed nothing. “I’m telling you right now, we will never do this,” he remembers telling his son, referring to his former client’s celebrations. “None of this shit. You ain’t getting no pension, you ain’t getting no severance, you ain’t getting no signing bonus, you ain’t getting shit until you’re on that active roster.”

Nothing? Not even for a practice squad spot? Qadry smiles. “I’m gonna cry. That’s all I’m gonna do.”

3:24 p.m.: Harbaugh sets the stage for the practice’s final play in the low red zone: With a touchdown, the offense wins. With a stop, the defense wins.

Offensive coordinator Todd Monken calls for a pick play. Qadir is the intended target. Jones finds him. Qadir catches his pass. But rookie safety Sanoussi Kane knocks him out of bounds before he can break the plane. The defense celebrates wildly.

“So long as he made the catch, I don’t really give a [expletive] about anything else,” Qadry says. That Qadir was the first read in Jones’ progression matters more to him than the play’s success. “That’s huge. That’s more than huge. But, see, that’s also John saying, ‘Is the moment too big for him? Let me see.’ …

“It’s critical because, again, the game is a game of leverage. Psychological leverage. And, again, they put him in there. They could’ve put any other guy in there. They put him in there. He caught the ball. ... I’ll never forget this: My one receiver coach said, ‘Make the referee make a decision.’ He can’t make a decision if the ball’s incomplete.”

3:40 p.m.: Qadir, soaked in sweat and hosed down by veteran teammates during a fumble recovery drill, heads for the Jugs machine. At Qadry’s urging, he’d connected with the Ravens’ head equipment manager, Kenico Hines, who’d told him about Devin Duvernay. The former Ravens wide receiver, according to Qadry’s retelling, had caught 10,000 balls off the Jugs machine during one training camp.

“Oh, I can do that,” Qadir told his dad, and so he shoots for about 500 catches after every practice, time permitting. He practices catching balls aimed in front of him, behind him and right at him. He practices catching balls aimed at his chest, at his head and below his waist.

“Opportunities are few and far between,” Qadry says. “Got to take what you can get.”

4:03 p.m.: After an on-field interview with WMAR’s Shawn Stepner, Qadir embraces Qadry before heading into the team facility. “All right, brother,” Qadry tells him. “Love you.”