Two weeks ago, as the hours ticked away on a decision that’d shape his NFL future, Dre Greenlaw’s adopted father, Brian Early, reminded him of the first time he brought him to a water park.

It was a year or two after the Earlys took in Greenlaw from a foster home in Fayetteville, Ark., and the young man was still getting used to the concept of structure. He was wild back then, as old high school coach Daryl Patton recalled. And on that summer day, the boy climbed up to ride the slides at White Water in Branson, Mo., screaming bloody murder as the current rushed him down.

The screaming wore him out. On the two-hour drive back home, Greenlaw conked out in the backseat. Early’s kids, Avery and Cameron, fell asleep on Greenlaw’s shoulders.

And Greenlaw, dozing happily, was wearing a Denver Broncos jersey.

“Do you remember that?” Early asked him about 12 years later.

“Dude,” grown-up Greenlaw responded, “I do remember that.”

Greenlaw had called Early for advice shortly after NFL free agency erupted in March, two situations in front of him. The San Francisco 49ers wanted him to return after a standout six-year run at linebacker. General manager John Lynch and head coach Kyle Shanahan, in fact, had flown to Greenlaw’s home in Texas to check in with him, multiple sources with knowledge of the situation told The Denver Post.

San Francisco, eventually, had outbid the Broncos, who’d honed in on Greenlaw to revamp the heart of their defense. But the 49ers’ brass only flew out — and their offer only increased — after the Broncos had already come after Greenlaw, sources said.

“That was, like, a last-ditch effort,” Early told The Post.

The Earlys adopted a kid, way back when, who was slow to trust, caught in a foster system that left him in a constant state of flux. That never quite changed. Greenlaw, Early said, has always been fiercely loyal to his teammates and those loyal to him, harboring deep bonds with Shanahan and fellow linebacker Fred Warner in San Francisco.

But he was close, too, with 49ers-turned-Broncos Talanoa Hufanga and D.J. Jones. And as the 49ers parted ways with a slew of pieces in free agency, Greenlaw sensed an opportunity for a “fresh start” with a stacked defense in Denver, agent J.R. Carroll told The Post.

As Early reminded Greenlaw of that serendipitous day at the water park, torn between home in San Francisco and a future in Denver, the linebacker sent his adopted dad a picture of himself at 7 years old. His Little League team was the Broncos. And there Greenlaw was in the photo, even younger, wearing another Broncos jersey.

“He’s like, ‘Man,’” Early recalled, “‘I feel like it’s destiny.’”

•••

Football always brought release. In the days before Greenlaw moved in, Early — then a defensive coordinator at Fayetteville High — regularly picked him up from the group home and took him to Sunday church with the family. Often, when they’d return to drop Greenlaw off, police cars surrounded the facility. Someone had stolen something. Everyone was put on lockdown.

He was hyper, high school coach Patton recalled. He buzzed, with no direction. Greenlaw found it, eventually, between the hashes. He was a different cat, as Warner put it, the 27-year-old Greenlaw long maturing but always the one at the heart of the storm in the 49ers’ pregame linebacker huddle. Slapping helmets. Chanting.

Twelve plays into Super Bowl XVII, in February 2024, Greenlaw was buzzing again. He hopped on the sidelines, once, twice, preparing to take the field in the second quarter against Kansas City. He skipped forward onto turf, one step with his right leg, landing awkwardly.

And he collapsed, holding his leg, in a moment Warner will never forget.

“That was such a traumatic experience for him,” Warner recalled to The Post, “and for everybody involved in the Super Bowl.”

It was a torn Achilles tendon, a potential death knell for a young linebacker’s career. He played all of two games, and a total of 34 snaps, in 2024. Though a complete fluke, it was another strike on a rough bill of health: Greenlaw amassed back-to-back 120-tackle seasons in 2022 and 2023 but has played in just 51% of San Francisco’s possible games across the last four seasons.

Optically, then, a three-year, $31.5 million deal from the Broncos looks like a risk. But for a brief sliver in a Week 15 return against the Los Angeles Rams, before he was shut down amid a lost 49ers season, Greenlaw came out and looked like he “hadn’t lost a step,” Warner remembered. He racked up nine tackles in 30 snaps. He flew, again.

Free-agent suitors were curious, Greenlaw’s agent Carroll recalled, as to why he wasn’t doing offseason rehab. He’d already completed it. And the Broncos did “one of the most extensive medicals a team can do” on Greenlaw before signing him, Carroll asserted.

“In my opinion, he’s just getting started,” Warner told The Post. “He’s still so young in this game. And unfortunately for us (the Broncos) got him at the perfect time, man, where you can expect a lot of great things from him going forward in Denver.”

The odds were stacked firmly against him, back at Arkansas. Before Greenlaw’s freshman season, head coach Bret Bielema told Patton the Razorbacks would probably redshirt him. They didn’t. He had 95 tackles his freshman year.

The odds were stacked firmly against him, back in his first year in San Francisco. The 49ers had just signed linebacker Kwon Alexander to a four-year, $54 million contract. But Alexander endured a rash of injuries, and Greenlaw had 92 tackles his rookie year.

The odds were stacked firmly against him, since nights in that foster home in Fayetteville. The odds have never won, so far.

“You tell him he can’t do it,” Patton said, “you better put money on the opposite.”

•••

At some point, before Greenlaw put pen to paper with the Broncos, Warner called him to talk.

Selfishly, Warner admits, he wanted Greenlaw to stay in the Bay. They’d formed one of the best linebacker duos in the NFL since Greenlaw’s arrival in 2019, a natural complement to four-time All-Pro Warner. They both loved the hunt, Warner emphasized. And they were connected deeper than ball, Warner repeatedly referring to Greenlaw as a “brother of mine.”

“It just looked different when him and I were going after other teams from the second level, and just trying to erase space on the middle of the field,” Warner reminisced to The Post. “He’s, by far, one of the greatest athletes and football players I’ve ever played with, and it was truly an honor to play alongside him.

“I even told him, and I always say, that I would not be the player that I am today without playing alongside Dre Greenlaw.”

Still, Warner didn’t quite oversell Greenlaw on staying. He told him he wanted the best for him, and he had to make his own decision for he and his family — whatever that meant.

“We’ll always be brothers, man,” Warner said. “And I love him to death, and I know he’s going to ball out in Denver for sure.”

San Francisco was home. Greenlaw had spent six years there. Had spent six years with Warner, wreaking havoc.

But he wanted to be a captain, as Early said. And Early, the man who’d watched a wild 15-year-old boy grow into a self-assured man, encouraged Greenlaw to spread his wings.

“Hey, man, you stay in San Francisco, you’re Scottie Pippen,” Early recalled telling Greenlaw. “And Fred Warner is MJ.”

“Go be frickin’ MJ.”