Terrance Orr II worried over his younger brother’s state of mind. Zach Orr had been at the height of his powers as a Ravens linebacker when a doctor told him the devastating news: His spine was a ticking time bomb because of a rare congenital abnormality. There he was on their parents’ couch in DeSoto, Texas — 24 years old, strong, fast and smart as he had ever been, but all he could do was sit and watch old highlights, thinking about what was supposed to be. Terrance II reacted to this dismaying sight like the football coach he is.

“I just told him, ‘Look, man, you can’t physically play, but the love is still there,‘” he recalled. “So I said, ‘Why not go into coaching and have the same output and input you did on the field, but just do it at a different level?’ ”

It was the type of “what’s next” message the four Orr brothers — Zach is the second oldest — had heard again and again from the exacting, caring coaches who’d helped them transcend physical limitations to play college and professional football. Though their father, Terry, had played tight end in the NFL, they always saw themselves as underdogs who needed to prepare harder and smarter than the blue-chip prospects (future All-Pro Von Miller was one DeSoto contemporary) around them.

Why couldn’t Zach Orr, who has a tattoo that reads “Hard Work Pays Off” on his left leg, apply that same mentality to the unwanted transition in front of him?

It has been seven years now since those gloomy days on the couch, and Orr is, at age 32, the Ravens’ new defensive coordinator, a coaching prodigy already touted as a candidate to run his own team in the not-distant future. He will enter this season as the subject of intense scrutiny because he’s stepping in for his friend and mentor Mike Macdonald, who transformed the team’s defense into the NFL’s best and most innovative.

A vocal contingent of fans thought so highly of Macdonald that they wanted him to succeed John Harbaugh after the Ravens’ loss in the AFC championship game. Instead, he left to coach the Seattle Seahawks and tried to take Orr with him.

Orr opted to stay and put his own imprint on the defense he helped Macdonald build.

“Zach’s going to do an awesome job,” Macdonald said. “What I would say is, ‘Trust your vision for how you want it to be.’ And the thing I know about Zach is he’s going to pursue that relentlessly until it’s the way he envisions it. That’s the jump.”

Macdonald doesn’t believe Orr’s climb will stop with running one of the league’s top defenses: “He’s going to be a head coach. It’s just going to happen. He’s that special of a guy.”

Players cheered Orr’s promotion, noting his gift for bonding with each of them and the aggressive spirit he’ll preach in keeping with the franchise’s vaunted defensive tradition.

“As a rookie, coming in every day, you don’t know what to expect, and [Zach] was always that guy that was a little touchpoint for me; like, ‘Hey, I’ve been through it. I know what’s going on,'” All-Pro safety Kyle Hamilton said. “It’s cool to see both of us have grown these past couple years. Probably nobody here was even thinking of him as a [defensive coordinator] two years ago, and now look at him.”

From a football family

The speed of Orr’s ascent was improbable — many of his contemporaries are still playing — but the seeds were apparent to those who watched him climb that first mountain to become a starting NFL linebacker.

Terry Orr did not push his boys to follow in his footsteps. In fact, he stopped watching the NFL altogether after his career as a tight end concluded in 1993, in part because he broke four bones in his back. When he coached Zach’s youth team in Virginia, he declined to participate in the preseason draft, content to take his son and all the kids no one else wanted. Just have the most fun, he told them, even as Zach bristled at the team’s winless record.

Terry would have felt just fine if his boys never played past that level. But he moved the family back to Texas, where football was as essential as air, water and daily prayers. A visiting family friend once asked Terry why there were so many hulking college stadiums in his community. “Those are for the high schools,” he said.

The kids dug out old VHS tapes of his games. They went at it tooth and nail in the backyard, in pee-wee, anywhere they could find competition.

“Being a coach now, I’m grateful our father didn’t push us,” Orr’s older brother said. “Kids who are self-motivated end up more successful. It was something we decided to do, and because of that, we gave it everything we’ve got.”

Brian Stansberry was an early influence on all four Orr brothers, spotting their promise in junior high physical education class and nurturing the nose-to-nose feistiness that made them naturals on defense at DeSoto High, where he coached the linebackers.

“Good priorities and good habits,” Stansberry said when asked what distinguished sixth grade Zach Orr. “He was about being the best version of himself every day. When you’re a winner, you never think you’re doing enough.”

He soaked up the daily 6:30 a.m. film sessions before the first school bell.

Meanwhile, Rita Orr — the most assertive family member — shaped her sons’ communication skills, insisting they stand up to speak in church and go out for school plays.

The Orr brothers never struggled to command respect. If Terry was away, Terrance II or Zach thought nothing of stepping in to coach one of their younger brothers’ rec league teams.

“Zach’s always right,” his father said, laughing. “No matter what the topic is, it’s gonna be real hard to convince him he’s wrong.”

‘He’s still that undrafted player’

Orr called the signals for coach Claude Mathis’ defense at DeSoto High. After the big college programs ignored him, he stayed close to home to become a three-year captain and all-conference linebacker at North Texas. After NFL evaluators turned up their noses at his sub-optimal height, he needed just three seasons to go from undrafted free agent to leading the 2016 Ravens with 133 tackles. Then, it all evaporated with the devastating news about his neck.

He could have stayed on his parents’ couch cursing his fate far longer than he did, but his brother’s urging worked on him. Then came a serendipitous phone call from Ravens general manager Ozzie Newsome, Harbaugh and owner Steve Bisciotti. “You’re coming right back up here and getting ready to work with us,” they told him.

Orr was a coach.

The hours were longer, the pay and notoriety less, but he recognized that so much of his life preparation also applied to this new vocation, way back to hearing his father talk about how Hall of Fame coach Joe Gibbs was a teacher at heart.

“It’s not an easy thing going from playing to coaching. It’s a different perspective,” Macdonald said. “He was so smart as a player that I wasn’t surprised by his acumen, but it was just so seamless. He could connect with players and people so well. He could give our perspective to the players, because he still had those relationships from playing with the guys, but he also could draw the line and provide the same perspective to us.”

Terry Orr was not surprised his son became a star apprentice to Macdonald, who’s also sharp and confident beyond his years. “They’re like the same person,” he said.

When Macdonald came back to Baltimore to take over the defense after a year at Michigan, he asked the Ravens to get Orr, who’d spent the 2021 season with the Jacksonville Jaguars.

To those who know Orr best, the challenge of replacing Macdonald feels like just another on the pile. He was never the biggest or fastest player on any team. High-major recruiters and NFL scouts didn’t pay him much mind. None of that stopped him from starting for the Ravens in the spot once occupied by Ray Lewis.

So why would anything stop him from becoming a stellar defensive coordinator?

“Zach is right now one of the youngest [coordinators] in the NFL, so people are going to doubt him, say he doesn’t have any play-calling experience,” Terrance II said. “But he’s always been the underdog. To me, that’s his core identity. That’s where we get our coaching identity from. In his mind, he’s still that undrafted player.”

Orr’s defense wasted no time putting its punishing stamp on training camp practices. “Those guys look like the throwback Ravens defense,” quarterback Lamar Jackson said. “Bloodshed, a lot of smack talk and a lot of big hits.”

Orr coached the linebackers for Macdonald, building deep rapport with Roquan Smith and Patrick Queen, but players from other position groups also felt he was “their guy” because of his natural gregariousness. He “has no poker face” in Macdonald’s words, so his enthusiasm for the art and violence of defense brims over at every turn.

That part was a given. But would he feel out of sorts when it was finally his turn to make final play decisions from the sideline in the Ravens’ first preseason game?

“Actually,” Orr said, “it felt pretty natural.”