Stephon Gilmore and his iPad are practically inseparable.

Without the tablet, he can’t log the five hours per day of film study he likes to watch. Without those five hours, he probably wouldn’t be able to record the pass breakups and interceptions that have gone hand in hand with his shutdown performances in 2018.

During film study, he’ll study himself. If one foot or one hand is out of place, he’ll notice. Then he’ll pour over tape of his assignment, generally one receiver, generally the opponent’s best receiver. He’ll take notes in the notebook he’s got for that receiver — and he’s got a notebook on every receiver he’s ever faced. Once he’s done with his receiver, he’ll also look at the quarterback to get a sense of his tendencies and technique.

That’s why, when the cornerbacks show up early to meetings to compare notes, Gilmore’s notebook is rarely lacking.

“He don’t miss much. He sees everything,” rookie cornerback Keion Crossen said.

Gilmore is looking for flaws in himself, his teammates and his opponents. He’s looking for ways to leverage his physical abilities and the Patriots’ defensive system against the opponent.

“He’ll have a good idea of some of my tendencies and try to exploit them,” Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes said on a conference call before his matchup against the Patriots in Week 6.

And so quarterbacks don’t target Gilmore often. When they do, Gilmore seems to make a point of making that throw a dangerous one. Just ask Bears quarterback Mitchell Trubisky, whom Gilmore baited into an end zone throw which Gilmore dropped. Or Colts quarterback Andrew Luck, who Gilmore baited into a throw to tight end Eric Ebron which Gilmore nearly intercepted. Or Texans quarterback Deshaun Watson, who Gilmore intercepted by flying across the field for Watson’s deep pass.

Gilmore’s athleticism was a major factor during those plays. Film study was huge, too. Gilmore anticipated what the quarterback wanted to do before he did it. With that split-second headstart, he capitalized.

The cornerback wasn’t always like this. At South Carolina, his former defensive coordinator Ellis Johnson said he remembered Gilmore being a gym rat. As for film study, Gilmore would get to meetings early and stay late with some teammates to log extra time.

But a film junky? Not exactly.

With the Patriots, Gilmore has transformed. Gilmore said he has “for sure” increased the amount of game tape he watches since joining New England.

“A lot of stuff I didn’t know that the coaches here have taught me that I didn’t know in Buffalo,” Gilmore said. “We’ve got a lot of smart coaches here that allow me to make plays and put me in the best position to make plays.”

Generally, Gilmore has found himself logging far more hours for Bill Belichick than he has for any coach. Johnson complained that he never sees Gilmore in the offseason anymore because the cornerback’s work schedule is endless with the Patriots.

“Yeah, it has increased a lot here, but it puts you in a position to be successful,” Gilmore said. “I don’t know if I would be as successful or would have get more out myself if I wouldn’t have come here, because of how the coaches push you, try to make each and every player better.”

His curiosity and work ethic extends beyond his assignment.

“He’s always studying,” safety Patrick Chung said. “He’s always asking me, ‘Hey what does the tight end do on this set?’ He’s always asking questions, even if it’s not about a receiver. He just likes to know all of the concepts.”

Once Gilmore identifies a weakness, he’ll communicate it to the rest of his defensive backfield. Chung, Duron Harmon and Devin McCourty, in particular, will be on the same page as Gilmore, so that if Gilmore takes a risk for a big play, the safeties can cover up for him if the risk goes awry.

Cornerback Jason McCourty, a 10-year veteran, said Gilmore’s work ethic in studying film is among the best he’s seen by a cornerback among the biggest film junkie he’s ever seen in Browns cornerback Jamal Taylor.

“He’s right up there,” McCourty said of Gilmore. “Between meeting, he always has his iPad on him. He’s always watching film, going over his matchup.”

That level of commitment isn’t unique for Gilmore. In college, he was deeply committed to the weight room and on the practice field. In fact, Johnson couldn’t help but tell stories of epic practice battles between Gilmore and then-Gamecocks receiver Alshon Jeffery, who now plays for the Philadelphia Eagles. Because they were so talented and so competitive, the two players would fight at almost every practice. No one bothered breaking up these daily melees, because they had become routine and because Jeffrey and Gilmore were best friends. They’d break things up on their own, and move on.

“I hated when he caught balls on me, and he hated when I was on him,” Gilmore said.

It showed in the Super Bowl when Gilmore said he had “little flashbacks” from his days in South Carolina with Jeffery. In the second half, Gilmore took over coverage of Jeffery, who’d beaten Eric Rowe a few times in the first half. Jeffery disappeared from the game. But of course, Jeffery and the Eagles got the upper hand with the Super Bowl win.

“He talked a little trash, but it’s all love,” Gilmore said.

Gilmore’s love for practice showed up early in New England when Gilmore was intercepting Tom Brady during walkthrough practices in the spring. No one played at full speed except for Gilmore, who’d break on the ball for an interception, an irregularity when players were supposed to play at half speed. But he couldn’t help himself. It was like that in Buffalo, too.

“I just remember how much he wanted to be the best, like all the little things, and really wanted to know everything inside and out – the way he practiced and the way he played and how competitive he was,” former Buffalo Bills coach and current Jacksonville Jaguars coach Doug Marrone said on a conference call in January. “I mean, shoot, when we played with him, he had one hand basically. He had hurt his wrist and he wound up out there and he was playing his butt off and just a really competitive kid.”

Even though Gilmore is a quiet guy – sometimes so quiet that he’s inaudible – he makes sure his love for the game is contagious. Crossen, for example, has played beneficiary to Gilmore’s relentless love for football and his ability to absorb endless hours of film.

“He constantly critiques himself. Even with the young guys, he constantly tells us what we can do better, or from his experience, how he thinks it’ll play out — plays or anything,” Crossen said. “He constantly keeps a high standard for himself and he plays at a high standard.”

Gilmore will hound himself for dropping passes. He’ll take the blame for blown coverages and miscommunications. He’s quick to admit he could have done better. That’s largely because Gilmore seems to be a perfectionist, who dives wholly into whatever seems necessary for him to be the best.

Whether he’s in the gym, on the practice field, in the meeting room or on his iPad, Gilmore is going to dive wholly into perfecting his craft.