aloyouis
at least generally aware
5/5
Jones warms up before the Rose Bowl game against Notre Dame in Arlington, Texas on Jan. 1, 2021. (AP Photo/Roger Steinman)
Come September, Jones delivered his first touchdown pass while staring down a barrel at Missouri. Linebacker Nick Bolton, a future second-rounder, crushed Jones as he lofted a perfect throw to Waddle on an 18-yard crosser. His pocket presence slowly began reminding scouts of Brady.
“Their strengths are similar,” Nagy said, “especially in terms of pocket feel and in-pocket movement, accuracy and field vision.”
Later, Jones’ quick release strengthened the comparisons. He routinely trusted his eyes and fired, eventually finishing with the 38th-fastest release in college football, per Pro Football Focus.
“Through his front recognition and study of body language, Mac could anticipate things that were coming,” Sarkisian said. “And that allowed him to play a really fast brand of football.”
Jones’ film study became so detailed he could foretell when a linebacker would drop into coverage or blitz pre-snap based on whether he was resting his hands lightly on his thigh pads (drop) or heavily on his knees (blitz).
Ahead of a showdown with third-ranked Georgia, the coaching staff uncovered a vital tell that allowed Jones to nullify a tactic the Bulldogs used to confuse opponents’ blocking rules. Senior linebacker Monty Rice, Georgia’s defensive leader, always held his mouthpiece before calling for all defensive linemen to shift laterally or “stem” moments before the snap. If Rice’s mouthpiece was in place, Jones could trust Georgia’s defensive front would be, too.
But any time Rice held his mouthpiece, Jones would execute a hard count and wait out the linebacker until he made his stem call.
“Mac was wired into it from the first snap of the game,” Sarkisian said. “He said, ‘I got it. He’s doing the exact same thing off the tape. We got him.'”
Mind you, Jones monitored this tell while deciphering Georgia’s defensive disguises, setting protections and occasionally signaling for new routes. It took Alabama three quarters to create distance from Georgia, but eventually Jones pulled away, going 24-of-32 for 417 yards and four touchdowns in a double-digit win.
Inside the facility, Jones pulled everyone closer to him.
“He was a guy that, for whatever reason was able to connect with everybody on the team in his own way,” said Huff. “He wasn’t trying to be cool with certain guys. He was just going to be Mac Jones.”
Though it wasn’t all fist bumps and belly laughs.
“He was never afraid to tell the left tackle in practice, ‘Hey, shut the (expletive) up and slide left,'” Huff said. “And it wasn’t in a disrespectful manner. But he was saying, I might be wrong, but I’m not going to get hit from behind if I’m wrong.”
Saving his ultimate Brady cliché for last, Jones absolutely shined under a championship spotlight. In the College Football Playoff, he completed better than 80% of his passes for more than 750 yards, nine touchdowns and zero picks.
By season’s end, he posted the highest adjusted completion percentage in the country, per PFF, at 84.2%. He was the most accurate passer within 10 yards of the line of scrimmage, and led the nation in deep passing yards.
The most natural comparison was the most uncomfortable. It required a qualifier at every opportunity.
He looks like, throws like, moves like, but obviously isn’t, Brady.
Welcome to New England
A final picture.
Jones stands atop a small makeshift stage at Gillette Stadium, wearing a ballcap and navy suit. Dozens of masked reporters are arranged in a semi-circle before him. They snap pictures and ask questions. Behind Jones, the north end video board says it all: Welcome to New England.
Jones holds a microphone in his right hand, ready to unwind another team-friendly, albeit genuine, answer about putting the team first and living in the present. Except in this moment, Jones’ gaze has escaped to the past. His eyes have settled on the six Super Bowl banners hanging high above the opposite end zone.
There’s room for a seventh. That’s why he’s here.
Soon enough, the future of the franchise is escorted back into the safety of his stadium. He sits for an interview inside the team’s media studio, the only place in Foxboro where drama needs to be manufactured. Within a few minutes, he’s asked to retell the story of draft night, what it felt like waiting for a moment to materialize.
Jones smiles. It’s the same story of his recruitment, and college career.
“Secretly, I knew,” he said. “Deep down inside, I was like, this is going to happen.”
It can’t possibly be fate, and yet it’s too soon to know for certain.
Come September, Jones delivered his first touchdown pass while staring down a barrel at Missouri. Linebacker Nick Bolton, a future second-rounder, crushed Jones as he lofted a perfect throw to Waddle on an 18-yard crosser. His pocket presence slowly began reminding scouts of Brady.
“Their strengths are similar,” Nagy said, “especially in terms of pocket feel and in-pocket movement, accuracy and field vision.”
Later, Jones’ quick release strengthened the comparisons. He routinely trusted his eyes and fired, eventually finishing with the 38th-fastest release in college football, per Pro Football Focus.
“Through his front recognition and study of body language, Mac could anticipate things that were coming,” Sarkisian said. “And that allowed him to play a really fast brand of football.”
Jones’ film study became so detailed he could foretell when a linebacker would drop into coverage or blitz pre-snap based on whether he was resting his hands lightly on his thigh pads (drop) or heavily on his knees (blitz).
Ahead of a showdown with third-ranked Georgia, the coaching staff uncovered a vital tell that allowed Jones to nullify a tactic the Bulldogs used to confuse opponents’ blocking rules. Senior linebacker Monty Rice, Georgia’s defensive leader, always held his mouthpiece before calling for all defensive linemen to shift laterally or “stem” moments before the snap. If Rice’s mouthpiece was in place, Jones could trust Georgia’s defensive front would be, too.
But any time Rice held his mouthpiece, Jones would execute a hard count and wait out the linebacker until he made his stem call.
“Mac was wired into it from the first snap of the game,” Sarkisian said. “He said, ‘I got it. He’s doing the exact same thing off the tape. We got him.'”
Mind you, Jones monitored this tell while deciphering Georgia’s defensive disguises, setting protections and occasionally signaling for new routes. It took Alabama three quarters to create distance from Georgia, but eventually Jones pulled away, going 24-of-32 for 417 yards and four touchdowns in a double-digit win.
Inside the facility, Jones pulled everyone closer to him.
“He was a guy that, for whatever reason was able to connect with everybody on the team in his own way,” said Huff. “He wasn’t trying to be cool with certain guys. He was just going to be Mac Jones.”
Though it wasn’t all fist bumps and belly laughs.
“He was never afraid to tell the left tackle in practice, ‘Hey, shut the (expletive) up and slide left,'” Huff said. “And it wasn’t in a disrespectful manner. But he was saying, I might be wrong, but I’m not going to get hit from behind if I’m wrong.”
Saving his ultimate Brady cliché for last, Jones absolutely shined under a championship spotlight. In the College Football Playoff, he completed better than 80% of his passes for more than 750 yards, nine touchdowns and zero picks.
By season’s end, he posted the highest adjusted completion percentage in the country, per PFF, at 84.2%. He was the most accurate passer within 10 yards of the line of scrimmage, and led the nation in deep passing yards.
The most natural comparison was the most uncomfortable. It required a qualifier at every opportunity.
He looks like, throws like, moves like, but obviously isn’t, Brady.
Welcome to New England
A final picture.
Jones stands atop a small makeshift stage at Gillette Stadium, wearing a ballcap and navy suit. Dozens of masked reporters are arranged in a semi-circle before him. They snap pictures and ask questions. Behind Jones, the north end video board says it all: Welcome to New England.
Jones holds a microphone in his right hand, ready to unwind another team-friendly, albeit genuine, answer about putting the team first and living in the present. Except in this moment, Jones’ gaze has escaped to the past. His eyes have settled on the six Super Bowl banners hanging high above the opposite end zone.
There’s room for a seventh. That’s why he’s here.
Soon enough, the future of the franchise is escorted back into the safety of his stadium. He sits for an interview inside the team’s media studio, the only place in Foxboro where drama needs to be manufactured. Within a few minutes, he’s asked to retell the story of draft night, what it felt like waiting for a moment to materialize.
Jones smiles. It’s the same story of his recruitment, and college career.
“Secretly, I knew,” he said. “Deep down inside, I was like, this is going to happen.”
It can’t possibly be fate, and yet it’s too soon to know for certain.
