He’s Not Just Another Guy Named Jones

NEW ORLEANS — Ran into Stanley Richard, starting safety for the Redskins, at the airport, and told him there was a good chance Sean Jones would be joining him in Washington next season.

Richard responded with the very same look that he had when he was playing for the San Diego Chargers in Super Bowl XXIX and Jerry Rice and Ricky Watters were breezing past him for touchdowns.

“Sorry, I don’t follow,” he says. “Don’t really know who you’re talking about.”

Sean Jones’ point exactly.

Jones ranks eighth all-time in NFL history with 113 sacks, he has played for the Raiders, Oilers and Packers appearing in the playoffs 11 times in his 13-year career, but until his team wins a Super

Bowl, he’s just another guy named Jones.

“You have to prove yourself a champion, and the only way to do that is by winning a Super Bowl,” says Jones. “No matter what you think of yourself, the reality is, if you haven’t won a Super Bowl, you’re not a champion.

“Reggie White will go down in history as the game’s most prolific pass rusher, but if he doesn’t win a Super Bowl he was not a champion at the game he played. John Elway is just another quarterback, a Hall of Famer, but just another quarterback who was never a champion. If he was so good--how come his team never won a championship?

“Football is unique that way; baseball people remember Game Six when Mr. October [Reggie Jackson] hit four home runs [actually three]. You get to four Super Bowls like the Buffalo Bills, lose, and all you do is get ripped. There is no pride in going there and losing.

“This is how you validate that you have had somewhat of a significant existence in this sport.”

For the benefit of football historians such as Richard, Jones is employed as a defensive end for the Green Bay Packers.

“That’s good,” says Richard with not the slightest hint of recognition. “We could use some defensive players.”

Richard best never meet Howie Long. (Long was a former defensive lineman for the Raiders, and now works on TV).

Long not only knows all about Jones, but he chose Jones to be son Kyle’s godfather. Long is so excited about Jones’ career-fulfilling journey to the Super Bowl that he is calling long distance to make sure his pal gets more attention.

“After the NFC championship game we shared a moment on the field,” Long says, “and he told me how happy he was that I was there to be a part of it with him . . . it brought a tear to my wife’s eye. Sean’s family, I could try, but I still couldn’t tell you how close we have been.”

During post-game interviews in the Packer locker room, Jones had Kyle on one knee and his own son, Dylan, on his other. Nearby Long stood beaming.

“It was like my younger brother just earned a trip to the Super Bowl,” Long says. “He’s one of the closest three people around me in my life, along with Bill Pickel and Chester McGlockton, and I live vicariously though these guys now.

“I’ve done TV, I’ve made a movie, I have my challenges ahead of me and still there’s nothing like the feeling you get playing football. . . . I won it when I was 24, and spent the rest of my career in overdrive, sacrificing, making the commitment and doing what I could to get there again. It happened so quickly for me. . . . This might be the best way to do it for Sean, the most rewarding time.”

Long won his championship the year before Jones arrived to play for the Raiders. He knows all about Jones’ missed opportunities in Los Angeles, the array of talent that surrounded Jones in Houston, which was squandered, and the passage of time that has threatened to steal Jones’ lasting moment of triumph.

Long understands the significance of “the mother of all games,” as Jones calls the Super Bowl, and with all the hype, media day, news conferences, parties and pregame shows yet to come, he’s trying to explain why the only thing that matters this week is Jones having his day.

“Do you know what his full name is?” Long says. “Dwight Andre Sean-O’Neil Jones. A brilliant guy. Handles all my money for me. Never seen him lose his cool--off the field. The man has more than 100 sacks and how many guys who have ever played this game have had more than 100 sacks?”

But so many missed opportunities. A 35-3 lead over Buffalo in the playoffs while playing for Houston, and the Bills came back to win in overtime. Less than 15 minutes to play to advance to the Super Bowl a year ago in Dallas, and the Cowboys rally to win.

Before this season one more tribulation to overcome: The Packers, dealing with salary cap concerns, cut Jones’ salary nearly in half. Guys Richard will never hear about now make more money than one of the game’s greatest pass rushers.

“Boy, did that [anger] me; I was so mad when he took that pay cut; I was madder than he was,” Long says, and he’s still angry. “I just don’t like the state of the game as it is.

“If the Packers win the world championship, you know what I’m going to tell [him]? Quit. If you stay around, the game’s just going to get you. All you’re going to do is get knocked down two or three pegs more financially because of your age, and to me that’s a slight. It’s all about respect, and Sean Jones deserves the utmost respect.”

And that is what Sean Jones is trying to explain, while peppered by reporters about things that really do not matter. He has tackled just about every great quarterback to play football the past 13 years, but respect eludes him, and each year come Super Bowl Sunday, he has been left to only beat himself up.

“I’ve always been miserable on Super Bowl Sunday,” he says. “I made a pact with myself to never attend a Super Bowl game unless I played in one, so I’ve never been to a Super Bowl. I usually send my parents and I just mope around, reliving all the things that should have happened and getting upset because we beat this team or that team and it’s in the Super Bowl.

“I’ve pictured myself there on media day, all the pageantry . . . and then I get mad again because I’m saying to myself, ‘I should have been there.’ Happens every year at this time like some sort of groundhog day, the feeling that I should be there and I’m not.”

But he is now, flew in like everyone else Sunday, and it’s for real. He took that pay cut, stuck it out, and now he has the opportunity to be a champion, somebody Richard might notice in Super Bowl XXXI.

“Why did I accept the pay cut? Because they told me I had to,” says Jones. “What was I supposed to do? Play for Tampa?

“If you come in here talking trash about how you think this team can win a championship, you’re not going to just let a few [dollars] come between you and that Super Bowl ring. Then I’d really be a hypocrite.

“I thought I had the chance with this team to be here, and getting to a Super Bowl is the most difficult thing. You have this career and it’s like a candle and the wick is slowly burning and with every missed opportunity it’s like someone trying to snuff out the flame. And then at some point you realize you’re not as fast, not as strong, not surrounded by as good of an organization as maybe you were earlier, and it’s all over.”

Not quite yet. There’s still the mother of all football games to play Sunday, and Sean Jones will be there.

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Sean Jones’ Journey

Sean Jones’ teams and their records in regular-season and postseason play:

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Year Team Record Playoffs 1984 Raiders 11-5 0-1 1985 Raiders 12-4 0-1 1986 Raiders 8-8 NA 1987 Raiders 5-10 NA 1988 Oilers 10-6 1-1 1989 Oilers 9-7 0-1 1990 Oilers 9-7 0-1 1991 Oilers 11-5 1-1 1992 Oilers 10-6 0-1 1993 Oilers 12-4 0-1 1994 Packers 9-7 1-1 1995 Packers 11-5 2-1 1996 Packers 13-3 2-0

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