Justin Jefferson arrived unannounced.
It was the NFL offseason, a few years ago, and Destrehan High School was playing its spring football game. Jefferson, already a stud wide receiver for the Minnesota Vikings, had returned home to St. Rose, La., about a half-hour from New Orleans’ French Quarter. He and his father, John, thought it’d be fun to watch some football, like the good old days. They didn’t tell anyone they were coming.
For a while, Jefferson, wearing a cherry red bucket hat, blended in. He said some hellos. Snapped a few photos. Scribbled the occasional autograph. But he was mostly unimpeded, unbothered, able to roam around freely like the kid he’d always been.
He eventually made his way down to the sideline to chat with the school’s athletic director, George McGovern. McGovern was standing with his son, Quinn, whose eyes bulged when he realized who his dad was talking to. Jefferson asked Quinn to do the Griddy dance for him. They tossed some passes back and forth.
Perhaps the best part is the picture they took. In the foreground is Jefferson, looking as happy as ever. In the background is a man with his back turned, another product of Destrehan: Pro Football Hall of Famer Ed Reed.
“My son did not know who Ed was,” McGovern said recently. “That was the moment for me. Growing up, it was, ‘Ed! Ed! Ed!’ Then Justin came on the map.”
It wasn’t merely Jefferson’s popularity that McGovern began to appreciate when other children began to flock toward them on the sideline. It was the way they looked at Jefferson — and the way he looked at them. There was a sense of connection, a magnetism. Something different.
McGovern thinks he knows why.
Justin Jefferson with Quinn McGovern — oh, and Pro Football Hall of Famer Ed Reed (with his back turned). (Courtesy of George McGovern)
Have you seen Jefferson lately? Not in person, but on television or social media? The odds are high that you have.
You might have seen him staring into a Little Caesars stuffed-crust pizza. Or maybe he was dancing in a pair of Oakley sunglasses. He’s played the role of a gladiator for Pepsi alongside Travis Kelce and Megan Thee Stallion. He screamed, “Will you protect this house?” for an Under Armour commercial. His face was recently featured on a box of Cheerios.
Attending the NBA Finals in Indianapolis? Check. Wearing a three-piece ensemble at the Met Gala? Naturally. Holding a press conference next to NFL commissioner Roger Goodell at the league’s spring meetings on behalf of flag football’s introduction to the Olympics? He filled that role, too.
This is what happens when you become a brand, an ambassador, an icon.
“It’s only, like, the LeBrons and (Steph) Currys who become faces like this,” said JR Blood, one of Jefferson’s high school quarterbacks, who went on to play at Southern University and Missouri. “Seeing that happen in real time, to Justin, is insane.”
To be clear, on-field dominance is the essential precursor.
At age 26, Jefferson — who missed most of training camp with a mild left hamstring strain but is expected to be a full go for Week 1 — already owns multiple NFL records. He was the youngest player ever to lead the league in both receptions (128) and receiving yards (1,809) in 2022. He recorded the most catches and receiving yards in a player’s first three seasons in league history. (He set the same standards through four seasons, as well.) He was the fastest player in NFL history to reach 30 career 100-yard receiving games, doing so in just 62 games. He surpassed 7,000 receiving yards faster than any player ever. Entering the season, he holds the all-time record for receiving yards per game (96.5). Almost every time he trots onto the field, he’s doing something to inscribe his name in the record books alongside legends like Randy Moss, Marvin Harrison and Julio Jones.
Of course, the smoothness of his game doesn’t hurt. Jefferson slithers as a route runner. His body angles one way, then changes course, almost as if he’s gliding — not on land, but water. Years ago, All-Pro safety Tyrann Mathieu compared him to a piece of silk, floating and rippling in the wind.
“We can’t let 18 get loose.”
Good freaking luck.@JJettas2
📺: @NFLNetwork pic.twitter.com/tbc4oW6ej1
— Minnesota Vikings (@Vikings) August 29, 2022
Jefferson doesn’t drop the ball. He absorbs contact. He can line up outside and in the slot. He blocks willingly. Looking for a flaw in his game? You’d have a better chance of finding a four-leaf clover.
He’s a superstar on and off the field, and superstars command attention. He could be a recluse, a hero unwilling to play the part, and companies would still seek his endorsement.
So what separates Jefferson from all the others? What makes him so cool and popular, especially among kids? It’s how mindful he is about his position as a role model. It’s the value he and those around him place on what he does and says when he’s not the larger-than-life figure down on the field wearing No. 18.
“I take a lot of pride in it,” Jefferson said a few months ago. “I take a lot of pride in everything that I do. Because I know who’s watching.”
He knows because he was once on the other side of the equation. It’s a testament to his family that he hasn’t lost that perspective, according to many of Jefferson’s former teachers, coaches and childhood friends we spoke with for this story.
John and Elaine, Justin’s mother, remain present. This summer, Jefferson hosted his camp, “JJets Flight School,” and both mom and dad attended. His two brothers, Jordan and Rickey, did, too. John often attends nondescript training camp practices, staying far from the cameras but always watching. Jordan acts almost like a marketing arm to alleviate the number of nagging requests of Justin.
“I guess the best way to put it is I don’t think he’s changed that much,” said Greg Boyne, Jefferson’s offensive coordinator at Destrehan. “He still laughs goofily the same way he always laughed. He tells the same bad jokes. He’s still got that megawatt smile.”
Jefferson’s college recruitment process was fascinating. Only three Division I schools offered him a scholarship: Northwestern, Tulane and Nicholls State.
“I remember we were running track together his senior year,” Blood said. “I was, like, ‘What’s going on?’ He told me that he was doing all of this stuff to make grades.”
Ask anyone from those days, and they’ll tell you Jefferson never loved school. His grades limited his college options as much as anything else.
Jefferson may have been skinny, but even then, his talent was undeniable. He palmed one-handed catches on the sideline. He ran crisp routes.
And he knew he could hold his own among a group of future college receivers. Michael Young played at Notre Dame. Pop Williams played at Memphis. Kirk Merritt starred at Arkansas State. Alfred Smith played at Louisiana Tech. Jefferson didn’t lack for self-confidence, and his coaches and teammates sensed it.
But it didn’t bleed over into arrogance. Jefferson and the starters would finish their practice reps, then the coaches would call for the backups. Jefferson refused to leave the field.
“I think it was that competitive part of it for him,” Boyne said. “Like, ‘If I come out, I might not get my reps back.’”
Destrehan’s head coach, Steve Robicheaux, ran a tight ship. “There ain’t gonna be no crap on the field,” Robicheaux said. “There ain’t gonna be no dancing. It was just old school. That’s how I was.”
But Jefferson inched toward the line. The team would practice punt returns, and when Robicheaux turned his back, Jefferson would tap-dance back and forth. Robicheaux wanted postgame bus rides to be quiet. Blood recalled the aftermath of one victory when Jefferson, seated near the middle, hollered, “We turning this b—- up!”
“He was extremely himself,” said Kohen Granier, another of Jefferson’s high school quarterbacks. “I have videos on my phone of him just singing. He was just a very outgoing personality.”
The teachers noticed. Jefferson took a web-design class with Jaime Jo Lee, who fondly remembered his positive energy. The bounce in his step as he entered the classroom. The tone of his voice when he’d shout at her in the hallways.
In Boyne’s mind, Jefferson’s joy made the teachers want to help him qualify academically. But he often wonders: What if they hadn’t? What if Jefferson had gone the junior college route? Would he have committed enough to academics to find his way to a Division I program? And more broadly, how many talented kids with warm hearts aren’t able to find their way to a program loaded with resources like LSU? How many don’t have the chance to impact others the way that Jefferson ultimately has?
Why did LSU hold a walk-on spot for him, after all?
“Everybody at the school loved him,” said former LSU coach Ed Orgeron. “I knew coach Robicheaux. He talked about the character, the integrity. He said I’d fall in love with him.”
Jefferson executed a double move in LSU’s first spring practice. “God, almighty,” Orgeron said. “We hadn’t seen nothing that good in a while.”
Orgeron then received reports from longtime NFL receivers coach Jerry Sullivan, whom Orgeron had hired as a consultant. Sullivan raved about Jefferson’s route-running ability and his willingness to learn. Above all, though, he said something to Orgeron that he still believes today: “Of all the guys we have, he has everything that it takes to be the quintessential role model.”
A few days before last February’s Super Bowl in New Orleans, Jefferson returned to Destrehan High. This time, he was flanked by a more robust security detail. Such is life as an NFL superstar.
McGovern informed Ms. Lee that Jefferson would be there to film another commercial. He asked her to come out to the field to catch up with her former student. She hemmed and hawed. What if he didn’t remember her? What if he blew her off? She didn’t want the beaming light in which she saw Jefferson to fade.
“I was kinda nervous,” Lee said. “Because you’re saying in your mind, ‘How are people when they hit celebrity status?’”
She eventually made her way to the field. Jefferson was at the 50-yard line. McGovern approached him and pointed over at Lee. He spotted her, shrieked and immediately came skipping over for a hug.
“My eyes are watering, and I’m like, ‘I didn’t think you would remember me,’” she said.
“Of course I remember you, Ms. Lee!” Jefferson blurted.
Jefferson with his former web-design teacher, Jaime Jo Lee, at Destrehan (La.) High School. (Courtesy of George McGovern)
The intent in this interaction wasn’t a one-off. As Jefferson has evolved from walk-on to national champion at LSU, from first-round pick to All-Pro, and as his laundry list of off-field responsibilities continues to grow, he still approaches life the same way he did before he became … what he has become.
One of Jefferson’s Destrehan teammates shared that the receiver flew to New Orleans to celebrate the engagement of another teammate, Dakota Torbert. The night before the Met Gala, at Jefferson’s fitting at a swanky New York City hotel, Jefferson watched as stylist Ron Burton III first revealed his outfit. “He was everything I perceived of him,” Burton said. “The energy was infectious. He was so excited, super kind and respectful.”
This summer, Jefferson hosted his camp at IMG Academy in Bradenton, Fla., and invited some of the nation’s top high schoolers to participate. Former NFL wide receiver Torrey Smith also attended the event. Smith was curious: Was Jefferson playing a front-facing role in the camp? He wanted to know mainly because his oldest son constantly wears Jefferson’s jersey.
“I don’t take it lightly, my kids wanting to look up to somebody,” Smith said. “I know the person means more than the player. I think there are some people who wear masks. All of a sudden, they achieve success, fame and popularity, and the real them comes out. Justin comes off as different because he’s real.”
Even as he has nursed a hamstring strain this summer, Jefferson has attended every training camp practice for the Vikings. Some days, he’s shoulder-bumping with head coach Kevin O’Connell. Others, he’s jawing at defenders on the sideline while chomping on candy. Between drills, he throws the football around like he’s hanging out in the backyard.
This isn’t some cosplay, and therein lies the secret sauce. This is a man who, despite his multitude of achievements on the football field, still has the spirit of a child, who knows what it’s like to view the world with wide eyes and dreams of becoming something few ever have.
(Top illustration: Demetrius Robinson / The Athletic; top photos: Adam Bettcher, Savion Washington, Stephen Maturen, Sean Gardner, David Berding / Getty Images)
