
How James Jones Found His Way Home
James Jones stood there on 3rd-and-3, split out left, waiting for the snap on the Packers' second series of the season. It had been just seven days since the 31-year-old rejoined his old team, and he was still living out of a suitcase. Supposedly, he was going to be a bit player.
At the snap, he took an outside release on Bears cornerback Alan Ball, then turned to face Aaron Rodgers in the left corner of the end zone. He leaped high and inside of Ball and brought in a perfect pass with his left hand for a 13-yard touchdown. He knelt for a moment of thanks, took a butt slap from James Starks and did a bash with Randall Cobb.
And just like that, Jones was home again. He was home in a uniform he wore for seven seasons. Home surrounded by teammates he considered brothers. Home in a place that has embraced him in a way he never had been embraced before.
In March 2014, home was looking smaller and smaller in the window of an airplane as Jones and his wife, Tamika, flew higher and farther. This was the last he would see of Green Bay, Wisconsin, for a long time, James figured. It was off to Oakland, where Jones was joining the Raiders.
Tamika was embracing the new adventure, excited that both she and her husband would be returning to the area where they grew up. But she had a feeling, and she chose that moment to share it with her husband.
"We're not done with Green Bay yet," she told him. "We will be back."
Slightly startled, James gave his wife a look. He told her that, sure, someday they'd go back, at the very least for the 20-year reunion gathering of the 2010 Super Bowl win. "Don't worry, we have everyone's phone number," he told her.
Tamika shook her head, citing the Holy Spirit.
"Deep down in my heart, I know we will be here again," she said.
So James, as a good husband sometimes must, rolled with it. He acquiesced to her wish to keep their house. They did not put it on the market for the entire 2014 season, when Jones led the Raiders in receptions and receiving touchdowns. They did not try to sell when the Raiders cut him last May after they selected wide receiver Amari Cooper with the fourth pick in the draft. Finally, last July, after Jones agreed to a contract with the Giants, they reluctantly put the house up for sale.
It sold two weeks later. And three weeks after that, James and Tamika were on a plane to Green Bay, with Tamika giving James the I told you so look. He was a surprise cut by the Giants, and the Packers needed a wide receiver after Jordy Nelson tore his ACL.
Jones had not yet agreed to a contract, so he decided to wait to tell family members and friends. But word leaked to the media that Jones was on a Delta flight bound for Austin Straubel International Airport. Then word leaked to fans.
James walked off the runway into the terminal and made his way to the baggage claim area. There, he found microphones and cameras. And cheering—louder and louder as he walked. A couple hundred fans were waiting to welcome Jones, by his estimate.
"I felt like Brett Favre a little bit," Jones said.

Within hours, Jones was a Packer again. Cobb, aware Jones had sold his house, told him to come stay with him. The Joneses appreciated the gesture but didn't want to overwhelm the bachelor. When Cobb learned they had already donated the furniture from their old house to charity, he gave them bar stools, a television stand, an entertainment center and more.
One of the first people James and Tamika wanted to talk with upon arriving in town was Rhonda Klapper, who they refer to as "our Green Bay mom." They met through Rhonda's son Mason, who had been Jones' bike buddy for his entire seven-year run in Green Bay.
Mason waited for Jones by Ray Nitschke Field after training-camp practices and lent him his bicycle to ride back to the locker room. Mason would jog alongside, carrying Jones' helmet while conversing. Jones took a liking to Mason. He gave him game tickets and a jersey and even surprised him with an iPod one Christmas morning.
As James took Mason under his wing, Rhonda took James and Tamika under hers. She cooked meals, shared recipes, helped with errands and, when "Little James" and Jordan came along, provided the kind of support that mothers do.
The day after James and Tamika returned, the aroma of cheesy potatoes filled the Klapper house. Rhonda and her husband Tony hosted the Jones family for their favorite dinner, with pulled pork as the entree. It was like old times, except Mason was away at college. With no more kids of her own in the house, Rhonda told Tamika she had more time to watch Little James and Jordan, now four and two.
The reception in the locker room was no less hospitable. In Jones' time away, his No. 89 had been assigned to Richard Rodgers. But the tight end volunteered to give Jones his old number. "I told him I wasn't a high roller, so I couldn't give him $50,000," Jones said. "I just hooked him up with a couple pairs of shoes."
| 2007 | Packers | 47 | 676 | 2 |
| 2008 | Packers | 20 | 274 | 1 |
| 2009 | Packers | 32 | 440 | 5 |
| 2010 | Packers | 50 | 679 | 5 |
| 2011 | Packers | 38 | 635 | 7 |
| 2012 | Packers | 64 | 784 | 14 |
| 2013 | Packers | 59 | 817 | 3 |
| 2014 | Raiders | 73 | 666 | 6 |
| 2015 | Packers | 22 | 426 | 6 |
No one was happier to see Jones again than his old quarterback. In Jones' previous Packers life, Aaron Rodgers had thrown 33 touchdown passes to Jones—more than he had thrown to any other receiver in his career except for Nelson and Greg Jennings, according to Stats LLC. In 2012, Rodgers and Jones led the league with 14 passing touchdowns.
Rodgers said his chemistry with Jones is as powerful as his chemistry with any receiver he's played with.
"I learned his body movements," he said. "When he was cutting, stopping, what kind of football he liked. We've had a ton of conversations over the years. A lot of it starts in the meeting room when we're talking about certain routes, how we like them run. He's talking to me about what kind of flavor he's going to put on some of these routes, how he is going to run them, how he is going to stem them, how he's going to make his breaks. We had that kind of relationship where you can pick it back up after time away."
As Jones stepped back in time, so much was the same. But so much was different. Richard Rodgers is one of 24 Packers on the current 53-man roster who were not on the team when Jones was here before. Every player in the wide receiver room is new, except for Cobb.
The Packers offense also had evolved. About five or six line-of-scrimmage signals were changed, by Jones' estimation. The team also made some terminology adjustments. Head coach Mike McCarthy said the Packers have added to packages that use the names of cities or states.
Many players in a similar situation might have confused plays from previous offenses. Jones did not. It helped that his Giants playbook was similar to the Packers playbook, as Giants offensive coordinator Ben McAdoo is a former Packers assistant. It also helped that all of the plays Jones had learned when he was a Packer were stored in the football cloud of his mind.
When he was with the Raiders and Giants, Jones related every new play he learned to a play he was familiar with from the Packers.
"For example, a play in Oakland, slants on the outside, is called 'Drag,'" Jones said. "We called it 'Lion' in Green Bay. So whenever I heard 'Drag,' I said to myself, 'That's Lion.'"
In the Packers' opener, McCarthy didn't simplify anything for Jones, who had two touchdown catches in a 31-23 victory.
"It was kind of like he never left," McCarthy said.

And the connection between Rodgers and Jones rekindled almost spontaneously.
"I was a little amazed at how fast [Rodgers and Jones] were able to get it synced," said Bears safety Antrel Rolle, who played against them in the opener. "But they were working together for so many years, he's a smart player, and they had done it so many times before."
Now, through seven games, Jones leads a 6-1 team with 426 receiving yards. As the Packers prepare to play the undefeated Panthers, only three players in the league have more receiving touchdowns than Jones' six, and only two qualifying players have a better average yards per catch than his 19.4.
He was cut twice in five months and unsigned for nearly three months. But any football team that thought Jones was washed up might want to revisit its scouting procedures.
"I don't think he's lost a step at all," Rodgers said.
A loaf of banana nut bread with a smiley face on it was waiting on Jones' doorstep when he returned from Chicago. Green Bay mom had baked and delivered it, just as she had after every game during his previous time in Green Bay. Win or lose, hero or goat, Jones always found his favorite treat waiting for him when he returned home.
The Joneses are renting a house that is less than a two-minute drive from their old house. It was important to James and Tamika to be near their old neighbors, with whom they had grown close. Their old next-door neighbor Michelle Axford had become a business partner. Together, they own The Cupcake Couture, a bakery in nearby De Pere.
On Saturdays, the specialty shop offers cupcakes advertised as James' favorites: Twix ("shortbread cookie crust, chocolate cake filled with caramel, caramel buttercream frosting topped with Twix candy") and Better Than Anything But Football ("chocolate cake with an amazing combination of caramel and toffee").
James and Tamika had a lot going for them in Green Bay in the winter of 2014. Then, at the onset of free agency, the Packers told him to test the market. They dragged their feet to make him an offer and eventually offered a slight pay cut. The Raiders came along with a significantly better deal.
Roots are more important when a man knows what it's like to have no place to call home. Jones was born in a homeless shelter. For the first 15 years of his life, he was shuttled from shelter to motel to friend's house to shelter, carrying only a backpack and a basketball. There was one night on a park bench. He never stayed anywhere for more than a few months and went to seven elementary schools.
During his first stay in Green Bay, Jones felt honored to donate his time and money to Freedom House, a shelter for homeless families. Jones wouldn't just serve meals. He would sit with families, share his story and listen to theirs. He let them know he once was where they were and that he cares.
It was in Green Bay where he realized how good life can be—and the importance of sharing blessings. It was also where he was married, had children and became a man.
But Jones had to leave Green Bay and go where he felt most wanted and where he thought a team would give him the best opportunity.
Many, including McCarthy, never wanted him to leave.
"He's one of your guys," he said. "You drafted him, developed him and won a championship with him. You are hoping you can get to a [salary] spot. There are a number of times like that when you don't feel good about it. Guys who do it the right way, buy in, represent the Packers well, bust their butt and are good players, you want to keep those guys."
This September, he signed a one-year deal for the veteran minimum of $870,000—the least desirable of contracts. But Jones could not have been any more wanted than he was in Green Bay. He tells teammates who never played anywhere else they don't know how good they have it.

"Having the experience to go to other organizations, I know this is a special place," he said. "I love Green Bay."
You can see that as Jones visits his favorite old haunts now. And you can see how Green Bay feels about him, too.
Whether he is getting his hair cut by Bird the barber, joining the congregation at Life Church, eating dinner at Plae Bistro or making a new connection at Freedom House, he hears the same thing from friendly faces.
"It's not 'Welcome back,'" Jones said. "It's 'Welcome home.'"
Dan Pompei covers the NFL for Bleacher Report.
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