It's opening weekend last season.
Sunday Night Football. Everyone in America watching.
A few months earlier I'd been dropped by the Packers. Just straight up released. So I'm with the Ravens at this point. We're going up against Josh Allen and the Bills. This one'd been circled on my calendar all summer. I needed to show the world I was still an All-Pro caliber corner. Needed to leave no doubt. With anyone.
My knee was still messed up from a PCL injury and surgery the previous year, but I'd been telling myself all preseason that I had to be out there for that Bills game. I even went down to Atlanta three weeks before kickoff to get a stem-cell procedure to try and speed up my recovery. But then I couldn't walk on my own for the next three days, and I'm looking at that calendar, and ... time is just flying by. I'm pushing myself hard to be ready to go, but I'm still having knee pain. Then, that week of practice before the game, honestly ... it was clear I wasn't ready to be out on the field yet. I was trying to will my way through, and hype myself up. Just constantly telling myself: You're the best corner in the league! You're good! You'll do fine . And then....
I didn't.
I was bad out there.
It hurts to admit that. It's hard to say. But it's the truth. Physically, I just wasn't where I needed to be on that Sunday night against Buffalo. And that affected my mental.
The Ravens had put me on a pitch count - 25 plays, the dime package guy. But all during warmups I knew I wasn't at my best. I remember Rodney Harrison coming up to me down on the field and asking how I was feeling. My response was, I mean ... it was just very unlike me. Basically, "My knee isn't feeling the best, but we're gonna see how it goes." I guess I already felt like maybe I'd be in for a rough night.
Right before kickoff, there was some wishful thinking on my part like.... We have Nate Wiggins, Marlon Humphrey, Chidobe Awuzie. We're good! I'm not gonna get anywhere near 25 snaps . But I actually went over 25. And ... it wasn't pretty.
There's no other way to say it: I went out there and played the worst game I've ever played in my entire life.
I embarrassed myself.
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And even though I knew I wasn't at my best, I never thought for a second that what actually happened in that game would've been possible. It was like some nightmare come to life.
There's this one play before halftime, Josh throws it across the middle on my side. Any other day, I'm intercepting that ball and taking it the other way. But I don't push off and drive to the ball fast enough, so I'm late getting there. Instead of picking it off and getting a clean break like I normally would, me and the receiver collide, and he makes the catch. From there, things just snowball on me. After a few more mistakes, my confidence starts to falter. Now I'm messing up all over the place - guys getting behind me, missing tackles. I remember I got this one pass interference penalty on a fourth down in the second half where I was literally two steps behind the receiver. I've always been one of the least-penalized corners in the league, I prided myself on that, but there I was ... getting caught way behind the guy and then having to just reach out and grab him.
The more stuff went wrong, the more I was basically just out there trying to survive. Just trying to make it to the final whistle.
But it was brutal.
And everyone saw that. Everyone knew it.
Rewind a few months from that Bills game. Back to earlier in 2025. When I was still a Packer. Back before they released me. To be honest with you....
I knew it was over for me in Green Bay when they wouldn't get me the iPad.
I was coming off knee surgery on New Year's Eve and having to miss the playoff game because of that injury. So I'm in recovery mode, and a few weeks into the new year I call up the Packers like, "Hey, can you guys send over an iPad so I can start watching film and get a jump on next season?" It's something that happens constantly in our league. Teams load up iPads with tons of film and give them to guys so they can study. But in this case, after my surgery, it was this situation where ... they just kept delaying things with that iPad. I didn't understand. I'd ask about it, and it'd be like: "Oh yeah, right. The iPad. Yeah, yeah, we'll get that over to you. For sure." But then nothing would arrive. And so ... I just kept asking.
Still nothing.
After a few weeks, I kinda got the hint. Like, Hmmmm maybe the Packers don't really want me around anymore .
Not long after that, they got in touch about a potential pay cut. And, you know what ... I understood. I was making a lot of money. I just got hurt. I had no problem with taking less money and having to prove my value again. But as we went back and forth, it just seemed like we could never get fully aligned. So now, all of a sudden, I'm needing to think about maybe playing for another team - something I'd never really considered in the past. I'd always thought of myself as a Packer for life, had always wanted to end my career in Green Bay.
And yeah, I understand that the NFL is a business. I get that. But at the same time, just being honest here ... it wasn't easy for me coming to grips with that possibility. With the idea of potentially not being a Packer anymore.
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After I got cut, I tried to pretend like it was no big thing, but I never really fully dealt with all the emotions I was feeling, you know what I mean? What I've realized since, in working with my therapist, is that me leaving Green Bay ... it was almost like a marriage coming to an end. And for someone who had devoted so much of his life to this game, that's not gonna be something that happens and then you just move on like whatever . It lingers. And sticks with you. Or at least it did with me. And I can tell you point blank that I absolutely blamed myself in the moments when I'd think about that divorce.
So that entire offseason, as things went south between me and the Packers, I kind of just went into my own little shell. I wanted to be left alone. I felt like I'd let myself down, let the organization down, and let all the Packers fans out there down.
I spent a lot of time just kind of sulking, and feeling really sad. I literally went weeks without seeing anyone . When that iPad thing happened, I told myself to start preparing to be released, and I really thought I'd been doing that. But then when it happened, I mean ... I just wasn't ready for it.
I really struggled.
I actually ended up getting a puppy at that point, just so that I'd have some company - K-Tal, an American Akita. She basically became my best friend. And she meant a ton to me in those down moments. I found so much joy and happiness with her.
But that was basically all I had in terms of something to be happy about.
Courtesy of Jaire Alexander
At one point that summer, I remember I talked to Lamar Jackson , who'd been my college teammate at Louisville, and he was like: "Man, we'd love to have you on this team. We've got a spot for you. You'd like it here." So I went and visited Baltimore , and that organization embraced me right away.
But I still wasn't right physically, or in a good place mentally.
The Ravens knew that they were signing one of the best corners in the league for what amounted to a steal, so it was good vibes immediately. But I'd only spent two and a half months recovering after my surgery before getting back out on the practice field, and I still needed time. I was completely honest about that.
After my first few practices in Baltimore, it became clear that my knee was not adapting well to the stress levels of camp. I was still having swelling, and pain. I knew my team needed me on the field, though. So instead of doing the smart thing and just resting, and fully recovering, I kept pushing toward that Bills game. That resulted in this psychological battle where I'd be trying to convince myself I could do anything I put my mind to, even if I was hurting. And then, of course, I'd go out and re-injure my knee on the practice field. Then I'd get more and more dejected about letting everyone around me down.
It became like a cycle. A cycle of sadness and disappointment, basically.
And all the while I'd keep telling everybody I was OK....
But I wasn't OK at all.
Following that Bills game opening weekend, that was the first time in my life where it's ever crossed my mind like, I don't know if I can continue to play football anymore.
I'd been looking forward to that game for so long. Been telling myself I was gonna go out there and dominate. And then ... it just didn't happen.
I was super hard on myself after that. I'll never forget my dad trying to convince me it was just a bump in the road or whatever. Like: "Dude, you couldn't even walk three weeks ago. It's OK. Everything will be fine."
I wasn't buying it.
As soon as that game ended, I basically lost trust in myself as a player. And I also lost a lot of trust in what people would be telling me. Going in, everyone I knew was saying that I was going to play great, and that I'd be fine out there. Heck, I was telling me that, too. So when I went out there and stunk it up, it was like my entire world got turned upside down. I pretty much lost faith in everything and everybody.
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And what hurt the most that night of the Bills game? Honestly? Believe it or not, the most heartbreaking thing for me was what Rodney Harrison said about me afterward.
He'd definitely been one of my idols as a young player. Someone I looked up to. And look, I get that I played horrible, obviously. But for him to basically rip me to shreds on TV after the game....
That just really hurt, you know what I mean?
He wasn't wrong about how I played. He was right ! But like, just hearing him talk about me like that, like I was basically the worst player in the league ... it truly messed me up. It had me completely down about everything .
That night, no joke, I went home and cried my eyes out.
Then, that next morning ... I remember I was so embarrassed to walk into the Ravens facility. That was the most embarrassed I've ever felt in the game of football. Actually, you know what ... it's probably the most embarrassed I've ever been just in life overall.
Here I am, the new guy, with all these expectations. And I go out and perform like that?
I was just very, very embarrassed.
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At that point, I really needed help to get through everything I was feeling. In talking with my therapist after I got to the Ravens, one of the big things that we came to realize was that I was still struggling to deal with how things ended for me in Green Bay. I was still really hurt, and it was something I hadn't gotten over. So I was already going through some stuff mentally before that Bills game. But then, after that game, everything just got magnified. I felt so awful. Just totally miserable. I needed help on how to navigate through that building, how to deal with the embarrassment. No matter what I tried to tell myself, I couldn't help thinking....
These guys are judging me. They're all like, Man, now I get why Green Bay cut him!
I honestly thought the Ravens might drop me that next day. But the team knew my knee wasn't right, and they wanted to give me a chance for it to recover, so I could maybe pan out. The thing is, I knew by that point that for the type of recovery I needed, I wasn't going to be able to keep pushing it. I needed full-on rest. So when the team was deactivating me for games after that ... and this sounds crazy for sure, but ... I'm not gonna say I was happy about it, but at the same time, I wasn't super mad. I literally went from being a Pro Bowl corner to not even being angry about being scratched for games.
Then one afternoon my agent calls me up and tells me that some teams are considering trading for me. A few days later I'm walking into the Eagles facility in Philly.
My head's messed up right now. My head is truly messed up. I don't know what to do anymore.
Since I hadn't been suiting up for games at that point, and was practicing less, I was actually feeling pretty good when I came over to the Eagles. And I obviously felt like I needed to prove something. For those first couple days, I mean, let me tell you ... I was one of the best DBs out on that practice field. And I was excited, too, because the Eagles were about to play at Green Bay their next game. It was all systems go.
But as game day got closer, my knee kept swelling up more and more. It's getting worse and worse because of all the reps. And in my head, as much as I'm trying to not think this way, it's like.... Here we go again .
I was freaking out. I couldn't stop thinking about a potential repeat of what happened in that Bills game. But this time against my former team. In my former home stadium. I mean, I know all those people. So it was even more terrifying.
The team had planned for me to have my knee drained the day before the game, and then to give it a go against the Packers. And I remember hearing that plan and checking my phone and seeing that it was like seven degrees or something in Green Bay, and then just having all these thoughts swirl through my head about my knee in that weather.
I went home the night before we were supposed to be flying out to Green Bay in the morning, and I didn't sleep a wink. I'm tossing and turning in bed nonstop. I'm worried and anxious and unable to stop all the negative thoughts from creeping in.
I couldn't do it anymore.
At like 3 or 4 a.m., I sat up in bed and texted everyone with the Eagles. It was like.... "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm going to do this. I can't keep playing like this."
Then, a few hours later, I went down to the facility and told them all in person.
I was done.
I remember I had this very emotional heart-to-heart talk that morning with Christian Parker, who was the Eagles DBs coach at the time. I was basically crying my eyes out to him about letting even more people down. That'd basically been the story of my life for the previous year, at least in my head - me messing up in some way and letting people down, and then feeling miserable.
I remember telling Coach Parker in that moment: "My head's messed up right now. My head is truly messed up. I don't know what to do anymore."
Deciding to step away from the game was one of the toughest things I've ever had to do. But I absolutely did have to do it.
Before I made the decision, I had everyone around me encouraging me, and trying to prop me up. People I cared about and loved. They were all like: "You can do this. Don't give up, Jaire. Don't quit." But I was really struggling. Going through things that no one could see, basically having an internal battle with myself. And it wasn't healthy.
That night when I texted everyone at the Eagles about not making the trip to Green Bay, I did a lot of journaling - like in that moment, stream of consciousness. I was basically just having a conversation with myself. Asking myself questions about my life. And the answers ... they weren't pretty. When I stopped writing, and then went back and read what I had written, and felt the emotion behind it, I knew what I had to do.
I needed to listen to myself, and look out for myself, and put my well-being first.
Michael Owens/Getty Images
I still have that journal with me in my house.
And as hard as it is to read what I wrote that night, I'm so grateful for that book. And for everything that it helped bring about.
It probably won't surprise you to learn that when news broke that I was stepping away from football, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. That was the biggest feeling of relief I've ever experienced.
There were no regrets.
In the days and weeks after that, I'd wake up with my knee absolutely killing me, and in my head, I wouldn't be missing football. It would just be: Man, I'm so glad I'm not out on the field making this thing even worse . And now, six months later, finally ... my knee actually feels great. It was basically this weird PCL injury where any time I'd cut or twist my leg, it'd swell up and have me in pain. Practicing on it just made things worse. It really did just need full-on rest.
At first, I'll admit that it was a bit tough watching games. But I knew that my decision was for the best. I've been at peace with it. And, in fact, I've honestly just been more at peace overall lately. I've been meditating a lot, showing gratitude for everything I have in this life. Then, starting in mid-February, I fasted for 30 days during Ramadan, and I feel like I'm in a much better place than I've been over the past year. I've started going back to my old high school, hosting some 7-on-7 camps for kids, trying to pass on what I've learned over the years. I'm even working on creating an app to help DBs use technology to play the position at a high level. So I'm definitely keeping busy.
I'm not gonna lie, I actually do sometimes miss being on the field and competing. I miss making those big plays I used to make. And the crowd screaming my name. Doing my sword celebration for the fans. All that stuff is a lot of fun.
But I'm proud of myself for recognizing that something wasn't right with me, and then doing something about it before it got any worse.
People still sometimes ask me if I'm ever gonna come back and play. And, you know what ... I'll never say never - I still work out, and the knee's fine now, so I'm in good shape. But for me, right now, the most important thing really is just to be in a good place overall. To be happy.
If there's anything I've learned over this past year, it's that life isn't always gonna go perfect. There will always be ups and downs. And sometimes just being able to say that you're in a good place, and just being happy overall....
That really is good enough.
This article was originally published on www.theplayerstribune.com as The Full Story Behind Why I Stepped Away from the NFL .
