Sleeping Giant: Kain Medrano as Washington's Defensive Chess Piece

In the meat grinder of NFL roster construction, sixth-round picks rarely move the needle. They're lottery tickets, developmental projects, special teams fodder. But every so often, a player slips through the cracks not because of a lack of talent, but because NFL evaluators prize polish over raw materials.

Enter Kain Medrano.

The Washington Commanders' second-year linebacker possesses the kind of physical profile that defensive coordinators dream about. At 6-foot-3 and 230 pounds with a 4.46-second 40-yard dash—the fastest among linebackers at the combine—Medrano isn't just athletic. He's a genetic anomaly operating at a position where speed kills.

Medrano's 4.46 forty didn't just lead all linebackers at the combine—it would have ranked in the top tier among safeties and slot corners. Pair that blazing speed with top-five finishes in both the broad jump and vertical leap, and you're looking at an explosiveness profile that belongs in the 99th percentile for the position.

This isn't manufactured athleticism. Medrano was a decorated track and field star in high school before ever strapping on shoulder pads as a wide receiver. That background shows up in his movement patterns—the fluidity in his hips, the burst out of breaks, the ability to close ground in a heartbeat. These are the traits you can't coach, the genetic gifts that separate the physically capable from the truly elite.

Medrano fell to the sixth round not because of athletic deficiencies, but because of technical ones. After transitioning from receiver to linebacker at UCLA, he was essentially learning a new language while everyone else was writing dissertations. His tape showed a player still figuring out gap responsibility, occasionally caught flat-footed in zone coverage, and sometimes overpursuing.

But here's the critical distinction veteran evaluators understand: you can teach a fast player to read offenses. You cannot teach a slow player to run a sub-4.5. Reading defensive keys, improving tackling technique, and developing ball skills—these are all learnable skills that improve with quality coaching and repetition. Speed? That's either in your DNA or it isn't.

The real catalyst for a potential Medrano breakout isn't just his physical tools—it's the arrival of new defensive coordinator Dorante Jones.

Jones has made a career out of deploying big, fast, versatile defenders in ways that create chaos for opposing offenses. His philosophy centers on disguise, multiple looks, and putting athletes in space where their physical advantages can overwhelm the scheme. It's the same blueprint Brian Flores used to turn Andrew Van Ginkel—one of Medrano's closest athletic comps—from a special teams contributor into a legitimate defensive weapon with double-digit sacks.

Jones will almost certainly deploy Medrano in similar situations: showing edge pressure before dropping into coverage against tight ends and running backs, jumping underneath routes in the flat, using that track speed to chase down screens. In today's NFL, where offensive coordinators weaponize the passing game to running backs and athletic tight ends, having a linebacker who can legitimately run with those targets is gold.

Medrano checks every box you want in a developmental success story: elite athleticism that can't be taught, a clear scheme fit with a coordinator who knows how to maximize similar players, and coachable technical deficiencies that should improve with proper development.

In year two, with a full offseason in Jones's system, don't be surprised if Medrano emerges as a genuine chess piece in Washington's defense. The tools are there. The opportunity is there. The scheme is there. Sometimes, the lottery ticket hits.