With each passing day providing another clue about Aaron Donald’s intentions, it’s becoming more and more apparent that it’s no longer a question of if one of the greatest defensive players in NFL history will come out of retirement to join the Rams’ pursuit of another Super Bowl.
It’s a matter of when.
And there are plenty of reasons to believe this could be the week Donald finally makes it official.
The Rams have returned to their Woodland Hills facility after spending the first two weeks of training camp at Loyola Marymount. They open the preseason Saturday night against the Chiefs in Kansas City. And with just 31 days remaining before they kick off the season against the hated 49ers in Melbourne, Australia, the time has come for Donald and the Rams to begin the process of reintroducing themselves to each other.
So, yeah, this feels like the week it all goes down.
It’s exciting. It’s tantalizing. For Rams fans, it probably feels like Christmas in August.
So why do I have a pit in the bottom of my stomach?
Why can’t I shake the feeling that Donald is about to step onto a high wire, with everything from a triumphant walk to the other side to a painful fall waiting at the end?
And why am I worried that if this doesn’t work out the way we hope it will – maybe even believe it will – it could leave an unfortunate final image attached to the otherwise pristine legacy Donald built over an illustrious 10-year career?
And maybe, just maybe, that is part of what Donald is wrestling with right now as he closes in on a final decision.
Maybe that helps explain why, for all the signs pointing toward his return, there remains at least some small chance he ultimately passes on the opportunity.
Because Donald has to understand there is risk involved here, too.
Not to what he has accomplished. Nothing can take that away from him.
But to the final image we are left with.
History not on Donald’s side
Sports history is filled with cautionary tales of legends who stayed too long or came back one time too many.
Willie Mays is arguably the greatest baseball player who ever lived. Yet there are old-timers who still remember the painful sight of him stumbling through the final stages of his career with the Mets, a shell of the breathtaking player they had spent decades worshipping.
Boxing fans remember the great Muhammad Ali, closing in on 40 years old and long past the point when he should have been enjoying retirement, absorbing frightening beatings from Larry Holmes and Trevor Berbick.
Old-time Rams fans can still see Joe Namath limping through the final four starts of his career in Los Angeles, looking like a fraction of the Broadway Joe they had grown up admiring.
Johnny Unitas, one of the greatest quarterbacks who ever lived, finished his career with the Chargers, throwing three touchdown passes and seven interceptions in five games before finally walking away.
None of it erased what those men accomplished.
And nothing that happens from here could erase what Donald has already done.
The three Defensive Player of the Year awards. The 10 Pro Bowls. The eight first-team All-Pro selections. The Super Bowl championship. The decade spent terrorizing quarterbacks, overpowering offensive linemen and establishing himself as one of the greatest defensive players in NFL history.
Legacies that enormous don’t disappear because of an ugly final chapter.
But final images have a funny way of sticking with us.
And that’s what makes this so uncomfortable.
Because this isn’t the Aaron Donald who walked away two years ago, still capable of wrecking an NFL game almost entirely on his own.
He’s 35 now. He hasn’t played a meaningful football snap in two years. And while the Rams can carefully manage his workload, limit him to 25 or 30 snaps a game and unleash him in the moments that matter most, there is no way to simulate what happens when a 300-pound offensive lineman gets his hands on you for the first time in two years.
Look, I get it.
Even a 75-percent version of the Aaron Donald we so fondly remember is better than just about everyone else.
And that version of Donald would provide an enormous boost to a Rams defensive line that was already pretty darned good before getting a monumental jolt with the arrival of pass-rush demon Myles Garrett.
Having covered Donald for a good portion of his career, and personally watched him wreck entire practices with his relentless dominance, break the will of opposing offenses and literally close out games through sheer will and talent, I am the last person to doubt him or even think about betting against him.
My money is, and probably always will be, on Donald.
Even at this stage. Even after missing two full seasons. And even without any credible evidence or precedent to go on.
Because, quite frankly, there is no applicable comparison.
Donald’s return is somewhat unprecedented
Players of Donald’s stature simply don’t walk away from the NFL for two years in their mid-30s, return and pick up where they left off. We are essentially venturing into uncharted territory here.
But just because no one has done it doesn’t mean Donald can’t.
In fact, if there is one player capable of pulling it off, it’s him.
Not simply because he is among the most talented players ever to lace up a pair of cleats, but because he has always kept himself in extraordinary shape. He has been diligent about his health and fitness, even in retirement. And as prideful and self-disciplined as Donald is, he would be the last person to even contemplate a comeback if he didn’t truly believe he could perform at a level acceptable to his impossibly high standards.
That matters.
But it guarantees absolutely nothing.
It doesn’t guarantee Donald will be as good as he once was. It doesn’t even guarantee he’ll be close.
And it certainly doesn’t guarantee that a 35-year-old body, after two years away from the collisions, torque, leverage and violence of playing defensive tackle in the NFL, will respond the way Donald expects it to.
That is where the uneasiness creeps in.
Because as much as we can envision Donald blowing through an offensive guard, swallowing up a quarterback and bouncing to his feet with that familiar flex, there is another possibility nobody wants to contemplate.
That he comes back as a shell of his former self.
Or, worse, that in trying to summon the player he once was, he puts his body in position to suffer the kind of injury he somehow managed to avoid throughout his remarkable career.
We don’t want our last image of Aaron Donald to be one of him struggling to get off a block, arriving a half-step late to a quarterback he once would have swallowed whole or, worse, limping off a field because a 35-year-old body that hadn’t absorbed an NFL collision in two years finally betrayed him.
We want the flex.
We want the quarterback crumpled beneath him.
We want one more championship run with Donald and Garrett terrorizing offensive lines together.
And maybe that’s exactly what we’re going to get.
Maybe Donald will do what he has spent his entire career doing: defy expectations, overwhelm the man across from him and remind everyone why betting against him has always been a fool’s errand.
I wouldn’t bet against Aaron Donald.
Never have. Never will.
But this isn’t really about doubting Donald.
It’s about respecting Father Time.
And until Donald steps onto that field and proves he can safely make it to the other side of that high wire, I’m not getting rid of that pit in my stomach, either.
