How boxing helps Falcons’ Chris Lindstrom: ‘There’s so much carryover’

FLOWERY BRANCH — Chris Lindstrom eyes his target, fires his hands and connects.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Matty Ryan, a Boston police officer and former professional boxer, wears these punches every day. He’s held mitts for world champions, for Olympic heavyweights, and for too many professionals to count in 30-something years of boxing.

Rarely do they feel quite like this.

When Lindstrom strikes, a shock wave starts in Ryan’s hand, travels up his arm and stops only once it reaches his neck.

“His power is electrocuting,” Ryan told The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. “If he hits somebody on the helmet in the NFL with a clothed fist, they’re going to be wobbled.”

For around 10 weeks each offseason, split between the winter and summer, Lindstrom spends an hour on Wednesdays and Saturdays at Waymaker Boxing back home in the Boston suburbs. It’s a nonprofit for inner-city youth, a gritty gym in an area full of flash. It is, if nothing else, the epitome of Lindstrom. And it’s where he unlocks new levels of his inner being.

After he finishes lifting, he boxes for cardio purposes. The 6-foot-4, 310-pounder finds it an ideal alternative to the fan bike or running. He enjoys it. He pushes himself harder than he once thought possible — and more than nearly anyone else Ryan has ever seen.

Lindstrom trains alongside elite boxers. One is ranked as high as the top five in the world. Another is in the top 20. Lindstrom does everything they do. He often trains with former Boston College teammates, but they’ll take vacations and miss days. Lindstrom never does. He’s the first in, last out. Every time.

After a light warmup, Lindstrom transitions into mitt workouts. He wears 16-ounce gloves, traditional for sparring. For three minutes, he relentlessly attacks Ryan’s mitts. His break lasts only 30 seconds. He never asks for extra time. He merely stands up and goes again — twice with 3-pound dumbbells in hand, eight times with no weights — and the cycle repeats.

“That is unbelievable for a guy that’s not a professional boxer,” Ryan said. “His heart rate is touching the red zone throughout the three minutes, and he sustains. He sustains and sustains and sustains, and we don’t slow down. We just get cracking.”

Ryan has trained NFL, NBA and NHL players. Nobody except Lindstrom and Keith Yandle, the NHL’s ironman and owner of the longest streak of consecutive games played in league history, have finished that cardio circuit.

And aside from Yandle, none of Ryan’s other athletes put on a show quite the way Lindstrom does.

“Chris is very good,” Ryan said. “He is by far the best football player that I’ve ever trained. Chris is special, and I tell him all the time he’s different.”

Professional boxers approach Ryan every time Lindstrom is in the gym, carrying a certain curiosity about the big guy with fast, violent hands. In another life, a life where he doesn’t uproot defensive linemen, pave gaping holes for running back Bijan Robinson and protect quarterback Michael Penix Jr., Lindstrom could’ve been one of their competitors.

If Lindstrom quit football now and committed to boxing — “He’s not going to,” Falcons coach Kevin Stefanski quipped — Ryan said he could win the Golden Gloves, the top honor for amateurs, in New England by next year.

Yes, Ryan says, he’s that good.

“Chris is right up there with the best of the best as far as power, speed, especially for his size,” Ryan said. “He does the exact same thing that I have my professional fighters do, and he does it just as well as them. His conditioning is A-plus, just like all the professional fighters.

“The kid is special, man.”

How boxing translates to football

Lindstrom enjoys the challenge of doing something new. It’s fun, he says, being a beginner at something. So in the spring of 2020, fresh off his rookie year and entering an offseason marred by the COVID-19 pandemic, he jumped at the opportunity to work out at Edge Performance Systems in Foxboro, Massachusetts.

Working alongside longtime Patriots center David Andrews, Lindstrom lifted four times a week, and for his post-lift cardio, he’d either swim or box. He particularly enjoyed the latter, and he proved a quick study.

Now, Lindstrom has become passionate about boxing — he’s training, not sparring, so he’s not taking hits. He’ll do it once his playing career ends to lose weight and keep getting better.

Lindstrom is infatuated by the chase for progress. Last summer, before he earned his fourth consecutive second-team All-Pro nod, he pondered the question of how, exactly, to elevate his game. He’s found that boxing is part of the answer.

“For me, it’s really hand-eye coordination, hand speed and conditioning,” Lindstrom told the AJC. “And so, a lot of it translates in terms of balance in your footwork, striking with good posture, which we always talk about with offensive line play. There’s so much carryover between the two.”

Consider the NFL scouting combine, where length often dominates conversations surrounding offensive linemen. Lindstrom, with 34⅛-inch arms, has more length than most guards. He’s grown better at using it as a result of being in the ring.

So much of boxing, Lindstrom said, is finding one’s range, balancing the body and being able to move and change direction. Playing right guard involves all of it.

“There’s such an emphasis on winning the first punch — it’s like, you want to get your hands on them first, and there’s really not a better correlation,” Lindstrom said. “So, there’s that aspect. It’s fun. You’re learning a skill, and pushing yourself, conditioning. So, for me, it just hits so many different things.”

Boxing has also helped Lindstrom’s instincts. When he goes through his combinations with Ryan and fellow trainer Mark DeLuca, he’s stacking 10-15 movements within a single drill. He’s tired, but he’s thinking and performing.

It’s a similar equation, Lindstrom said, to how NFL defenses change the picture from before the snap to after the snap. Linebackers move around to various alignments. Sometimes, they creep down toward the line of scrimmage. Maybe a defensive lineman is in a different spot than usual.

“It’s being able to think and process when you’re exhausted and being comfortable with that,” Lindstrom said. “So one, pushing your boundaries, but then also being able to function in that space. And so, that is a huge part of it. We always kind of talk about that.”

Boxing gives Lindstrom an outlet to let his competing mindset come out of its offseason hibernation. He challenges himself. He challenges his Boston College teammates. Maybe someday, he’ll even challenge some of those professional boxers-turned-friends, the same ones whose fights he’ll attend and watch ringside.

Well, actually, maybe he’ll refrain from ever trading gloves with them.

“We’ll go in there, we’ll be dying and then we’ll watch those guys and they go for 2½ hours, barely sweating,” Lindstrom said, laughing. “It’s just like, ‘Yep, I’m going to chalk it up to being 300 pounds.’ But those guys are so mentally tough. Like, it’s cool to see them work.”

Teammates, coaches marvel at the payoff

Lindstrom’s offseason excursions to the boxing ring are hardly unknown by his Falcons teammates.

“He lets everyone know,” left tackle Jake Matthews said.

“Yeah, he’s proud of it,” left guard Matthew Bergeron said. “As he should.”

Falcons coach Kevin Stefanski was entirely unaware. He knew several NFL players trained with boxers in the offseason, but he didn’t know Lindstrom was among them. He was entirely unsurprised to learn of it.

“Chris has as fast of hands as I’ve seen at that position in the NFL,” Stefanski said. “That helps you in the run and the pass game. But his ability to move — you can see that in a boxer, your ability to move laterally and then ability then to throw hands and be the person that gets the first touch.

“Because that’s such a big deal in run game and pass game, get your hands where you want them before they get their hands where they want.”

Bill Callahan recommends all his players train martial arts during their offseason. The Falcons’ 70-year-old offensive line coach said boxing builds hand speed and power with players’ punches and strikes.

Callahan saw it work firsthand from 2015-19 with 12-time Pro Bowl offensive tackle Trent Williams. He’s seeing it work once more with Lindstrom, who hadn’t allowed a sack or quarterback hit in the first four games this season.

“There’s such a carryover from boxing into pass protection, because we love to throw hands. We do,” Callahan told the AJC. “And a part of that is having that mindset of striking and also being precise of where you’re landing your hands in terms of placement and leverage.

“So, he’s got elite hands and he’s fun to watch, because he’s quick (and) he has explosiveness, not only in his body, but the hands, they’re lightning quick. And so, if you can build that through boxing and training of that nature, it just enhances your ability to be an effective pass protector.”

Lindstrom trains alongside Ravens guard Kyle Hergel, Eagles center Drew Kendall and Bears tackle Ozzy Trapilo. The other three, Ryan said, all look up to Lindstrom. So does Ryan’s son, whom Lindstrom gifted an All-Pro jersey this spring. “My kid looks at him like he’s God,” Ryan said. Every time Lindstrom visits, he asks Ryan about his family.

‘He’s made it’

The 29-year-old Lindstrom has become a popular face in Waymaker Boxing. When he walks in, professional boxers stop their workout and hug him. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. When they walk in, they approach him. He’s earned their respect — not only for his accolades, but his character — and he’s often the first athlete in the building when he’s there.

“He’s made it. He’s a four-time Pro Bowler, one of the top guards in the NFL. But he still comes in and outworks everybody,” Ryan said. “Nobody touches the output he puts in every time he’s in the gym, and he’s already at the top.”

Few coaches in NFL history has been around more great players than Callahan, who has strength in numbers from a lifetime in coaching. All of them, Callahan said, are unbelievably humble despite their stature. Lindstrom fits the bill.

Callahan feels Lindstrom sets an example in the Falcons’ locker room. Teams want their players to carry a genuine respect for each other. Lindstrom personifies it, having been named a captain for the third time in four years, and teammates follow his lead.

That includes Matthews. They’ve become close friends across eight years playing together, and Matthews said they’ll be lifelong friends after their careers close. Before then, Matthews, the NFL’s ironman who made his 200th consecutive start Sunday night, may even join Lindstrom in the boxing ring as a means to elongate his career.

“I see how it makes sense,” Matthews said. “We use our hands so much. You’ve got to be so quick with them and precise. He raves about it.”

But if Matthews or any other Falcon takes up boxing, know they’ll almost certainly pale in comparison to Lindstrom.

Remember Lindstrom’s humility? He’ll tell you he isn’t good. Then, he steps in the ring, and for three minutes, he punches, and punches, and punches.

Quick break. Three more minutes. Quick break. Three more minutes. Again and again.

Rapid hands. Quick feet. Immense power.

Pop.

Feel that? It’s the shock wave climbing through your arm. You might need that arm to catch yourself if you’re still wobbling from the weight of his punch.

No, Lindstrom isn’t a professional, though Ryan says there “no question” he could’ve been if he chose boxing in his youth. Instead, he merely drops in, wows every bystander and makes Ryan’s arm hurt.

There’s no doubt Lindstrom made the right career choice. And after all, he’s not yet a boxing “What if?” He still has many more days of hitting mitts — and maybe more — waiting in his future.