Their conversations went beyond X's and O's. They talked about coaching philosophy — about the kind of leaders they wanted to become, what really mattered to them about the game and how to inspire players to believe in something bigger.
Early on, they landed on a guiding question that would shape their approach for years to come.
"What does the casual fan who doesn't know a thing about football, what does he leave our game saying about us?" Ulbrich recalls he and Ghobrial asking themselves as they sat across from each other on a sofa in Manhattan Beach. "What impression did we make on him?"
The duo found themselves still asking those same questions a decade later, perhaps in some ways, even a lifetime later. This time they were doing so on a completely different coast, in a new time zone and with a slate of players that make up 1% of the world's greatest athletes. The stakes had changed, but Ulbrich's need to define his philosophy had not.
He didn't want a slogan — a marketing line to slap on a T-shirt — or a rotating list of clichés to toss out in team meetings. Those approaches frustrated him.
"That is just not real. It isn't," he said. "In the heat of a moment in a game, are you really going to reflect on that slogan? It's going to mean shit to you, and it's going to decide whether we win or lose this game? I don't think so."
So if not slogans, what would define Ulbrich's defense? What words could express his identity as a coach, and the soul of his approach to the game?
After some time, experimentation and discussion, he and Ghobrial finally landed on three words. Three words that took decades to develop. Three words that mean everything to Ulbrich. Three words that cleanly articulate what Ulbrich wants the lifeblood of a defense to be.