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Trevor Lawrence’s honest perspective is refreshing, not troubling

I was sitting at the bar at Hotel Derek in Houston, having just spent the entire day with Myles Garrett, who was only weeks away from being the slam-dunk, no-brainer No. 1 overall pick in the 2016 NFL draft.

“He’s gonna go No. 1, dominate for 8-10 years, and then go study dinosaurs for the rest of his life.”

That was my genuine projection for Garrett, after I had spent hours hearing about his affinity for all creatures prehistoric. He told me he almost picked Ohio State just because of their impressive paleontology program, and said he planned to go back for that degree after football is over.

We talked about his love of music, from Queen and Journey to Marvin Gaye and the Jackson 5, to Tupac and Adele.

He told me where to find the best steak in Texas (Coach Terry Price’s backyard), and about the unbreakable bond of his three closest friends, whom he had brought along for the day.

Garrett was about to be the center of the football world, and it felt like the gridiron was an afterthought.

Scott R. Galvin-USA TODAY Sports

It didn’t take long for me to wonder whether or not some folks in the NFL would bristle at Garrett’s widely varying interests, or the fact that football clearly didn’t consume his every waking thought.

Does he love the game enough?

I don’t know if anybody said that, but I’m sure more than a few may have thought it.

The impact Garrett has had since entering the league proves how hilarious that concern would have been, having racked up 42.5 sacks in four seasons for the Cleveland Browns. Only four players (Aaron Donald, Chandler Jones, T.J. Watt and Cameron Jordan) have more over that stretch.

These thoughts came rushing back to me as I watched many respond to the words of Clemson quarterback Trevor Lawrence in a recent cover story for Sports Illustrated:

“It’s hard to explain that because I want people to know that I’m passionate about what I do and it’s really important to me, but . . . I don’t have this huge chip on my shoulder, that everyone’s out to get me and I’m trying to prove everybody wrong,” he says. “I just don’t have that. I can’t manufacture that. I don’t want to.”

Oh, boy.

For a league that has long romanticized the underdog story of every oft-doubted prospect turned superstar overcomer, those words were unlikely to sit well with those who want their quarterbacks to eat, sleep and breathe the pigskin.

But Lawrence’s perspective on this is encouraging and refreshing, not troubling.

(Photo by Chris Graythen/Getty Images)

A highly decorated recruit coming out of high school, Lawrence was etched in stone as the No. 1 overall pick in this draft three years ago, when he dominated Alabama in the national title game. He’s lived up to the hype ever since, and he’ll check another expectation off the list when the Jacksonville Jaguars make Roger Goodell call his name in a couple of weeks.

Lawrence is exhibiting a quality that’s all too rare: The ability to be honest with one’s self.

He’s been at the top of his game for a long time, and he’s right . . . he can’t manifest that chip on his shoulder out of thin air, just because it makes for a better story.

Lawrence also seems to understand that contrary to the “24/7/365” narrative, there is much more to life than football, even for those who are the best at it.

Still, thanks to all of the negative responses to his comments, Lawrence felt the need to clarify his position on the internal motivation that drives him to be great:

The fact that Lawrence felt he had to qualify his remarks is just more proof that we’ve lost the plot, both on the field and off.

Understanding that your job doesn’t define the whole of your humanity is a lesson we should all take to heart. Being honest with ourselves about our experiences and our motivations is another.

The fact that Lawrence seems to have a strong handle on both should make the NFL universe more impressed with him, not less.