TAMPA, Fla. — Before settling into a serviceable rhythm Sunday night, Josh Wells fell out of sync for one regrettable snap.
Tom Brady’s cadence still was echoing when Cowboys edge-rush extraordinaire Micah Parsons burst around Wells’ left side and hooked Wells’ outstretched left arm, seemingly carrying the Bucs’ veteran with him as he churned toward Brady and wrapped his arms around the quarterback’s midsection for a third-down sack at the Dallas 11.
At that moment, Wells surely felt shame, anger, frustration, and even a dose of empathy. Which is to say, he knew exactly how Brady felt.
In a previous football life, Wells — the Bucs’ 6-foot-6, 306-pound backup swing tackle — wasn’t protecting blind sides. He was the blind side.
“A hundred pounds ago,” he said.
The Tampa Bay locker room teems with stories of staggering transformations. Some have segued from hoops prospect to Hall of Fame-caliber receiver (see Mike Evans). Others have risen from small-school obscurity to Pro Bowl revelry (see Ryan Jensen).
But none have undergone an evolution quite like Wells, a rangy, rugged high school pocket passer who transitioned from quarterback to backup NFL tackle in a half-dozen years.
“Quarterback until college,” said Wells, 31. “I walked on (at James Madison) as a tight end, they moved me to (defensive) line, back to tight end, then (offensive) line.”
From dual threat to down lineman
Aside from footwork, a prerequisite for both a passer and protector, no obvious correlation exists between the position Wells played at Hanover High in Mechanicsville, Virginia, and his current craft. He’s not even the Bucs’ emergency quarterback on game days, a title held by tight end Cameron Brate.
If anything, he might possess a greater inherent appreciation for a clean pocket than his peers.
Turns out, he also knew how to escape a collapsing one with adequate nimbleness. A starter nearly all of his four seasons at Hanover, nestled in the Richmond suburbs, Wells passed for roughly 4,000 yards and ran for 900 more.
“He did a great job running the ball,” said Josh Just, Wells’ coach at Hanover.
“Now, was he juking a ton of people out? No, but he could pull the ball and run, and he would always get yards. He was quick enough to get that burst enough for 5 yards, and sometimes he’d break it, but he was so big. Kids had a tough time tackling him.”
Just took over the Hanover program two weeks before the start of Wells’ freshman season, only to realize he had no quarterback. Upon assessing his available arms, Just realized that Wells “was the only kid I thought could throw a football half-decent.”
By the midpoint of that season, Wells — then around 6-foot, 190 pounds — was starting for a Hawks team that finished 0-10. Not that the season was a total wash; Just said Wells began learning how to lead a group and earning the trust of teammates, most of whom hailed from a rival middle school.
The following season, Hanover finished 5-5, with Wells the cornerstone of a simple spread-zone offense typically featuring three receivers, a tight end and tailback.
“I was more of a pocket guy,” he said. “We’d run, run, run to usually start the game to get me to settle down that way. But yeah, we’d run and throw a little bit.”
In Wells’ junior year, when he first was elected a team captain, Hanover went 9-4, winning a region title in Division 5 (one of Virginia’s highest classifications). His senior year, when he had sprouted physically (6-5, 230), the Hawks went 8-4. Wells played the region championship, a 34-17 loss to Dinwiddie, on a sprained ankle.
His totals over his final two seasons: 2,269 passing yards, 736 rushing yards, 20 touchdown passes.
“And no one would recruit him,” said Just, now a high school principal in a neighboring county. “I have never seen anything like it. No one seriously recruited him. My whole staff fought and argued with the (college) coaches. Everyone was like, ‘Just take a chance on this kid or something,’ and they just didn’t.”
His destiny arrived via detour.
Growing into his role
J.C. Price, then an assistant at Football Championship Subdivision power James Madison, was assessing another Hanover player when Just begged him to simply talk with Wells. After one look and one conversation, Price forwarded Wells’ name to then-JMU coach Mickey Matthews.
Bereft of a single Division I-A offer, Wells joined the Dukes program as a walk-on. After redshirting in 2009, he shifted from tight end to defensive line the following season to provide depth to an injury-besieged unit, and appeared in 11 games.
By 2011, he was a starting right tackle. “I gain weight pretty quick,” Wells said. “Their lifting program, just kind of naturally a bigger frame, I think it just came on naturally. And as I moved positions, I just kept eating and ended up where I am now.”
One decade and eight NFL seasons later, Wells has one of the most unenviable and unforgiving gigs on the roster: coming in cold off the sideline at right or left tackle should the need arise.
The need has arisen in two of Tampa Bay’s last three games. Wells was inserted in the first quarter of January’s playoff game against the Eagles when All-Pro right tackle Tristan Wirfs injured his ankle, and entered in the second quarter Sunday against Dallas when left tackle Donovan Smith hyperextended his elbow. If Smith can’t play Sunday in New Orleans, Wells will start.
“Technique-wise, no (difference between left and right tackle),” Wirfs said. “It’s the exact same thing, it’s just flipped.
“I’ve said multiple times it’s like wiping your (butt) with the other hand. Josh says it’s like driving your car on the other side of the road. You can do it, you’ve just got to get used to it. So for him, being our swing guy throughout the week, he flips back and forth. It’s nuts.”
The key, Wells said, is remaining engaged, and staying in communication with the linemen who are playing.
“So if you do happen to go in, you kind of have a feel for what they’re saying,” added Wells, who initially signed with the Jaguars as an undrafted free agent in 2014. “But when you go in, you kind of just have to fight to get in a rhythm, and once things kind of settle down, it’s kind of a different ball game.”
From a completely different vantage point than the one he had a lifetime ago.
“He’s awesome, I love him to death,” Wirfs said. “I think he’s great when he comes in. He works his tail off, it’s awesome.”
