A Message for Green Bay

It’s funny how so much of life is just about people seeing you or not. Growing up, and wanting to make it as a football player, I had all these people basically telling me I wasn’t anything special. Coming out of high school I only had two college offers. Going into the draft I waited almost 200 picks for my name to be called. So when I finally did get drafted, I think there’s a part of me that figured it’s about to be the same in the NFL: more people who just see right past me, or who see me as nothing worth investing in.

Then I became a Green Bay Packer.

I remember this one moment early on in camp my rookie season. The Packers had drafted three running backs in 2017, and the receivers started taking “bets” on which of us was going to come out on top. Obviously a lot of guys had Jamaal since he was drafted the highest. Then one day in camp, Davante walks up to me. He’s the No. 1 receiver, right? Fourth year and about to make a Pro Bowl. He’s the dude in that room — and he comes over to me on the sideline, I don’t even know why, and he says, “I got you as my dog in this race.” I can’t even tell you what that did for me, honestly. It was like, OK, Davante Adams believes in me?? It meant a lot.

I also remember the very first time I played an offensive snap — it was Week 4 at home against Chicago. Both our main running backs had gone down, so it’s only me and our fullback left. I run onto the field, and when I get into the huddle it’s crazy: A-Rod, he just looks at me and he says, “Hey. I am one of your biggest fans in this entire organization. It’s your time. Yours, right now.” I ended up scoring and we won that game. 

The next few weeks, both main backs were still out and I played really well. Pretty soon they got healthy though and I went back to not being out there as much. In my head I’m thinking, I had a nice moment. Maybe it’s over. But then I’ll never forget there was this one drive, later in the season — and out of nowhere, A-Rod calls timeout, turns to the sideline and yells: “I WANT 33 IN THE GAME!!! I WANT 33 IN THE GAME!!! 33!!! NOW!!!” I’m standing there, I’m looking down at my jersey … and suddenly I’m like, Oh wait. I’m 33. That’s ME. I don’t even remember what the play was, or what happened on it, but I just know how good that felt. It was this reminder that I was there for a reason, you know what I mean? One of the best QBs who’s ever lived is actually seeing something in me.

It wasn’t just my teammates who made me feel seen in Green Bay — it was our fans, too. Especially in those first few years when I was trying to make my name in the league, I think people started to notice that good things would happen when I had the ball, and they wanted me to be more involved. So they started tweeting with the hashtag #FREEAARONJONES. I know it’s just a hashtag, but I won’t lie, that was cool. Every time I saw it in my mentions, it reassured me I wasn’t going unnoticed. Our fans understood how hard I was working to make things happen, and I fed off of that.

I’m also very grateful for the Packers organization, and the way they had faith in me as a person. One of the biggest mistakes I ever made was as a rookie: I got cited for driving with marijuana in my system, and suspended by the league for the start of my second year. I was so embarrassed after it happened. They say you represent the G at all times, and I hadn’t held up my part of that. I felt like I’d let everyone down who gave me a chance as a fifth-round pick — and for a guy like me who wasn’t established yet, a lot of teams might’ve said “let’s just cut him.” It definitely could have gone either way … but the Packers had my back. Their mentality was, This mistake isn’t you. It’s only you if you don’t learn from it. They made sure I walked around our building with my head held high, even when I was feeling really low.

Then in the spring of 2021, two very different events happened — and they both changed my life forever. 

The first one happened on March 26th: I signed a second contract with the Packers. Four years for $48 million. I’d been on my rookie contract until then, and I hadn’t grown up with money, so it was a big moment. It was the feeling of security for my family, and knowing they’ll always be taken care of. It was also the feeling of validation for the work I’d put in — that all those people who’d doubted me had been proven wrong. 

At the center of both of those feelings was my dad. He was the single biggest influence in my life, by far, in terms of who I became both as a football player and as a man. He was the one who made me fall in love with football, he was my coach, my trainer, my biggest supporter, my best friend, and of course he was also just my dad. He was a diehard Cowboys fan (you know the kind) ... but as soon as I got drafted by Green Bay, none of that mattered. You weren’t going to see a Cowboys color in our house ever again. It was dark green, cheese gold, Packers everything. He came to every game — every single one. During pregame, he’d make sure he was in the end zone where we were warming up. I’d go find him before kickoff and shake his hand, then he’d kiss me on the forehead and tell me how proud he was. “Go rip it up, go have a day.” That’s how he’d leave it.

So it’s hard to put into words the emotions I was going through when, less than two weeks after I signed my new deal, my dad passed away. It pretty much came out of nowhere: He got COVID, and there were complications, and it just happened very fast. One day I was with my family in El Paso to celebrate that the contract terms had been agreed to … and by the time I was in Green Bay to actually sign, he was at the hospital. Eleven days later, on April 6th, he was gone. 

He passed away at home, which is what he wanted and something I took a lot of comfort in. My parents both served in the military, and they’d been off to war multiple times. Whenever my dad would be away, he’d know that Alvin, Chelsirae and I were worried about him — so he’d tell us, “I’m coming home to you guys. I’m coming home.” I’m glad he could come home for us one last time.

I guess that’s a heavy story to put in a letter like this…… Maybe it’s too heavy, I don’t know. I wanted to share it with you all though. Because when I think about my seven years in Green Bay, the thing that probably will stay with me most is the way that the Packers were there for me when I lost my dad. 

That’s the toughest thing I’ve been through in my whole life, and I went through it while we were preparing for a season where the goal was the Super Bowl. I knew that everyone was counting on me to be at my best — which is a lot to carry when you’re grieving a loved one. The Packers helped me carry that grief as much as they could. So many of my teammates reached out, and made me feel that fraternity. At the funeral, I honestly couldn’t believe it, Coach LaFleur flew all the way down to Texas. Brian Gutekunst (our GM) and Ben Sirmans (our running backs coach) also flew down. To say they didn’t have to do that is an understatement … and I know I could never repay them on a football field. So I’ll just say, “Thank you.”

That’s the biggest thing I want to write here, not just to the Packers organization but really to all of Green Bay. Thank you. It’s going to feel strange being on that visiting sideline for the first time, and being on the other side of this NFC North thing in general — but it’s ALL love, and it’s so much gratitude. Thanks for “betting” on me, riding with me, hashtagging for me, and everything else.

Thanks for SEEING me.

No G on the helmet Sunday, always one in my heart.

-Aaron