Darrin Simmons, 24 seasons in Cincinnati, is believed to be the longest-tenured coach in the NFL and has worn the Bengals logo at the league's scouting combine before the birth of A) "Dexter," B) the NFL Network and C) Shemar Stewart, the team's first-round pick last year.

As Zac Taylor’s assistant head coach and special teams coordinator, Simmons knows when the work starts Monday in Indianapolis that he'll be able to count on his fingers the number of kicks that won't reach the end zone. He also knows that John Harbaugh won't get a hand from his fellow coaches when he walks into Lucas Oil Stadium as the new head coach of the New York Football Giants.

For Simmons, it shows how the business of the combine is much more efficient these days, which he likes. No longer is he the only coach running the specialists' drills or waiting to speak to California wide receiver/returner DeSean Jackson longer than it took to interview him.

But efficiency also turns quaint into corporate. As Simmons reflects on how the combine has morphed, he misses the quaint.

Before the combine allowed fans into the workouts, flocks of scouts and coaches from around the league migrated to the same sections every year. Back in 2008, Harbaugh, one of their own as the Eagles' long-time special teams coordinator, arrived at his perch to an ovation after he was named head coach of the Ravens.

Now, in one of his first official acts for the Giants, Harbaugh probably heads right to their suite, where he'll be greeted only by a couch and TV monitors.

"There are a few who sit out in the stands. Not like it used to be," Simmons says. "I enjoyed sitting out in the bleachers with 10 to 15 guys taking notes. Now everybody is pretty much in the suites."

Don't get Simmons wrong.

He understands the NFL is a big business and how he's benefited from it. But he also knows his main task in Indy is to evaluate, and now it's harder than it was when there were no highlights flashing on the scoreboards and the prospects were called to the 40-yard dash start with a bullhorn. Instead of mingling with a player after an impressive drill, the NFL Network cameras swarm.

"It was a good opportunity to get to know players on a personal level," Simmons says. "There are fans. That's not something I enjoy. It limits our accessibility and visibility to the players. It's more efficient in many ways, but it's also harder to evaluate."

You have to remember that before Simmons, 52, joined the Bengals in 2003, he broke in with the Ray Lewis Ravens and was in Carolina when they drafted Steve Smith. He watches all positions but the offensive line, so he saw Bengals all-time receiver Chad Johnson turn to the scouts and coaches on the floor of the RCA Dome and declare, "Draft me." He watched Delaware quarterback Joe Flacco sizzle into the first round throwing, "rockets." He documented Heisman Trophy quarterback Joe Burrow’s stunning recall of singular down-and-distances from his final year at LSU.

"I'm watching the quarterbacks because I'm watching the receivers," Simmons says. "But the only time I really notice them is, 'Wow, there's a bad throw.' So Flacco was noticeable."

The biggest change in the combine during that span, he says, is the specialization of the drills that fit the changing style of play. For instance, no one used to talk about drafting nickel cornerbacks. Only cornerbacks. Now, Simmons says, in a 4-3 defense the nickel has made the SAM backer nearly obsolete.

"I'm sure the combine in 2003 was different in 1983 as the game evolved," Simmons says. "I think the drills

that they use are all very position specific to the game now, as opposed to what it may have been back then. The drills that the coaches do are specific to the pattern of the game now. Every drill, I think, ends with a DB catching a ball.

"I think there's obviously an emphasis on seeing those guys backpedal and change directions. I think it's more up to date in terms of the quarterbacks and the routes that they throw are more similar to the routes they run today."

One of the biggest changes is in Simmons' specialty of specialists. When Simmons emerged two decades ago as the man running those combine drills, it was just him and another coach in charge of punters, kickers, and long snappers. Of course, back then, probably only four punters and four kickers, along with a long snapper, were invited.

"That made it tough on players, and it was very costly for the teams," Simmons says. "When guys were identified as prospects but weren't invited, teams scheduled trips to go work them out, and then the prospect had to set up ten different workouts."

The combine now hosts a specialists' showcase with players streaming in from all over the nation. Simmons, the old Kansas punter, is in charge of the punters while other coaches watch over the kickers and snappers. It's how Simmons got his first hard look at Bengals' record-breaking punter Ryan Rehkow two years ago. It also reflects how far and good the specialists have come and become.

"I feel like every specialist there has a kicking coach or a specialist coach that they rely on, that they go

to," Simmons says. "I feel like routines and the way

they prepare in the offseason, and during the season, become very streamlined because they consult with those specialists. It's just become much, much, much more specialized. Over at the RCA Dome, even when we were kicking off from the 30-yard line, I could count the number of kickoffs that went into the end zone on one hand. Now, you can count the number of kickoffs that don't. It's all become specialized in training and preparation."

That's an example of the modern efficiency Simmons loves. All the prospects in one place so coaches are able to judge them against each other. The efficiency shows up in the interview process, too, now that each team must choose 60 players to interview at scheduled 18-minute intervals. In their suites.

Before then, it was the Wild, Wild West at the players' hotel, where teams had their headquarters in the single rooms ringing an indoor pool. There were no appointments, only lines waiting to snag players at any moment. Teams had to assign one staffer (the Bengals' man was then-equipment manager Jeff Brickner), to wait out players and basically kidnap them to their room. "Like herding cats," Simmons says. The better the prospect, the longer the line and shorter the tempers.

Simmons saw someone accused of jumping the line, and the two ended up pushing each other into the pool. Simmons had a long wait for DeSean Jackson, the smallish yet spry returner from Cal who was drafted in the 2008 second round by the Eagles. But it was worth it.

Since there were no rules, there were no constraints, either, and Simmons figures he had Jackson by himself for maybe a half-hour. He found an out-of-the-way set of stairs where the two sat and talked more personality than football in what Simmons recalls as "a really, really," good conversation."

He certainly loves the organization of the current interview system. Like Simmons says of the modern combine, "You know what to expect, and you see the things you have to see." But it doesn't give you a lot of time for what many feel is the most important category of the week.

(There is another shorter interview period broken up by position groups that begins and ends with an air horn that Simmons calls "speed dating.")

"(The interviews are) a big one, especially as coaches, because it's our first exposure to listening to them talk and converse," Simmons says. "Can they communicate? On and off the field? So sometimes you've got to make a read on somebody. Can they or can't they?"

Because he has been in at least a thousand combine interviews, Simmons is confident his wealth of experience allows him to make a fairly quick call if a prospect is coachable and fits into the Bengals' locker-room culture. He can fall back to Jackson talking on the stairs to Burrow's 18 suite minutes that were "over-the-top. It wasn't normal."

Four years ago, Simmons starred the 18 minutes of Alabama safety Jordan Battle, a future Bengals' third-round pick and current starter.

"His recall, his ability to talk and understand what they did in Alabama, coming from a very complex defense, being able to regurgitate what everyone's responsibility was. Very impressive," Simmons says. "(Current Lions running back) Jahmyr Gibbs was the same way. Another Alabama guy who transferred from Georgia Tech, a school that's not easy to go to."

Simmons has seen the combine change with America. There are questions not asked and subjects not broached that were routine in 2003. Same as in 1963 and 1983. Along the same lines, out of what seems to be respect for the current generation, the weigh-in doesn't seem to have the high profile or the access it had not so long ago.

Simmons says 2006 tight end Vernon Davis and 2017 edge rusher Myles Garrett, the draft's first pick that year, had the most memorable weigh-ins. But he says the Garrett weigh-in is one of the last he saw.

"They limit the number of people who can view the weigh-ins," Simmons says. "There's a lot of negative publicity. A lot of conclusions are being taken from a bunch of people seeing guys body type and size and commenting on it publicly. and probably didn't need to be."

Back in the day, if a player transferred, more red flags sprouted than a day on the golf course. "Now, Simmons says, "you pretty much know why. Compensation."

He thinks NIL is going to lead to more players on the fringe of the higher rounds staying in school. Good for maturation, but he also notes a downward trend in combine participation, and that's bad news for evaluators.

What's good news is that despite the cameras and the fans and the suites, it's still the combine and football and that means Simmons packs what he always packs for the combine.

Two AX Pro stopwatches. (You always need an extra.) And a clear plastic baggie stuffed with about 20 pens ranging from markers to ballpoints. It turns out the most tenured coach in the NFL resembles the combine prospects he interviews.

"Zebras don't change their stripes," says Simmons, heading to Indy once again.