It is a carefully applied veneer, one that predated Tyler’s death but has taken on additional importance since. Ryan is discerning about whom he lets in. Behind closed doors, Kelly said, “everyone kind of knows him as this squirrelly, goofy kid,” one who lives to play Fortnite and scarf down McDonald’s and beg Kym to do his laundry. Out in the world, Ryan is the star quarterback, the school figurehead and, now, the most visible representative of an increasingly public-facing family. He believes he no longer has the luxury of acting his age.

“After Tyler passed, it’s kind of been like, ‘O.K., now I’m an adult,’” Ryan said. “I’ve got to grow up kind of in a hurry.”

The Hilinski boys were always together, always in lock step. Wherever Kelly, 24, went, Tyler, 18 months his junior, would follow. And whenever his older brothers competed in something, Ryan tried to outdo them both. Their parents took to calling them “The Brothers,” not as a statement of fact but as a proper name for an indivisible unit. Before long, they referred to themselves that way, too.

So when Kelly quit baseball before his freshman year of high school to play quarterback full time, his brothers inevitably followed suit. Ryan was so young that he cannot recall the first time he put on a helmet, only that it was to help his brothers practice running over a defender.

For years , he toiled in their shadows, watching as Kelly left home to play football at Columbia — he would eventually transfer to Weber State — and later when Tyler set off for the Pac-12. Ryan vowed to climb higher and did so by trying to grow into an amalgamation of his brothers’ best qualities. On the field, he has Kelly’s cannon arm and Tyler’s moxie. Away from it, when he is at his best, he blends Kelly’s charisma with what everyone once saw as Tyler’s even keel.

“The perfect mix of all of us,” Kelly said.

Ryan was the one who tended to Kym when they got the news of Tyler’s death, staying with her as she hyperventilated and ultimately calling an ambulance to take her to a hospital. When Presley, Ryan’s coach, arrived to check on them, he found Ryan in the waiting room, “standing there like a brave warrior while everyone around is emotional.”