INGLEWOOD, Calif.––The phone rang at 6:20 p.m. Pacific, a California number.

Ty Simpson looked down, picked it up, and broke down.

Right there, backstage at the draft, before the cameras could find him. His father, Jason, had to hold him up, not because of joy. That came later, but because of everything that led to this single ring.

Three months prior, Simpson stood in the Rose Bowl tunnel, head down, helmet in hand.

His stat line: 11-for-24, 98 yards, one interception.

He played like a man carrying a piano on his back. Because he was.

Alabama's offense had no second gear. No safety valve. Just Ty Simpson trying to will a flawed team past a better one.

The Rose Bowl chewed him up. He told a friend after the game, "I've never felt more alone."

The same city. A different stadium. A different kind of alone.

Sean McVay walked into the press conference room about an hour after the selection.

He talks a mile a minute, hands waving, eyes dancing.

Thursday night, he sat down with his hands in his pockets. He didn't smile. He looked like a man who had just been told his flight was delayed six hours.

Les Snead sat next to him, noticeably more energetic.

Snead has a relationship with Simpson's father. They go back to SEC playing days. Snead advised the family on draft decisions. McVay?

Simpson said in his introductory press conference, "I had never met him."

Sarah Barshop asked McVay if he had spoken to Matthew Stafford before the pick.

"I'll keep that between us," McVay stated.

Another reporter asked: "Do you expect Ty to back up Matthew this year?"

"We'll see. He's going to compete with Stetson Bennett," McVay said.

The man with 11 career NFL pass attempts. That's the competition McVay volunteered before Simpson even flew to LA.