WOODLAND HILLS, Calif. –– Alaric Jackson stood near his locker, swaying slightly as he breathed. With his hands on his hips, his eyes scanning the familiar terrain of the locker room, he felt the weight of the past two weeks slowly lift.
The sounds of pads and helmets clanking as they are placed in their metal cubby holes of lockers reverberate throughout the locker room. Athletic tape is being cut off ankles and thrown onto the floor, and laughter and tunes are familiar music again. Jackson is home, but that homecoming comes with a strange mix of relief and regret.
The two-game suspension has been a wake-up call, a jarring reminder of the stakes, personally and professionally at risk. Jackson knew from the moment the news dropped of his suspension that he'd let the team down, but more than that, he'd let himself down. "Selfish," Jackson called it.
And he means it. Every bit of it. The decision that led to his absence is something he has to live with, but now, it's all about moving forward. And the Rams? Well, they've struggled in his absence.
That part stung the most—watching from the outside, seeing the line crumble, feeling helpless as the cracks in their offense widened.
"It was definitely tough," Jackson said, his voice steady, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He shifted his weight from side to side, his massive frame casting a shadow over the blue carpet in the locker room. "I feel bad about it, but it's behind us now, and we are here today."
A simple statement that carries years of discipline, regret, and hope. In his 345-pound frame, at six-foot-seven, Jackson isn't just a man. He is a mountain that has weathered storms and stood tall. But even mountains can crack.
Jackson knows he is ready. His body is in shape, as Is his mind—the place that has been a battlefield for the past two weeks—to stay sharp. His return isn't just about stepping back onto the field. It is about reclaiming everything he missed: the brotherhood, the grind, the endless meetings, and even the punishing weight room sessions.
When asked what he missed most, "Everything," he said resoundingly. "Being around the guys, playing football, working out, being here in meetings. But I'm glad to be here, honestly, and it feels good."
It's that simple. Football is part of Jackson's DNA and is in his blood. It felt unnatural to be away from it, even for a short stretch. And now, with the San Francisco 49ers barreling towards Sofi Stadium, it is time to prove he hasn't lost a step.
The Rams needed him now more than ever. The offensive line has been a turnstile without him, and this week, Nick Bosa and Leonard Floyd are coming to wreak havoc. Jackson knows what he must do.
Offensive Coordinator Mike LaFleur quickly emphasized the importance of Jackson's return and the continuity he would bring to an embattled line. Continuity is a simple word, but it is so elusive in the NFL. It isn't just about size or strength but about trust, rhythm and knowing your brothers have your back when the pocket collapses. It's about synchronization.
"It's good. Again, I'm just happy for the player that he gets to be out there doing what he loves to do. It's good to get him back," LaFleur said.
These words resonate with Jackson. He is doing what he loves. Ultimately, that is what it boils down to, right?
It isn't about glory or fame, not about proving people wrong or even making up for past mistakes. It is about finding a passion and pursuing it with everything you have; for him, it's about the pure love of the game.
Few people have that passion, fewer have the resolve and gumption to pursue and commit to it, and even fewer have the bold audacity to pursue their dreams despite the odds. Jackson is not one of those people. He is one of the exceptional few.
That's what had driven him all these years when he signed with Los Angeles as an undrafted free agent out of Iowa, fighting tooth and nail just to make the roster. It keeps him grinding, year after year, improving, sharpening his skills, becoming the anchor the Rams desperately need.
And now, here it is again. After a long offseason and an even longer summer, Jackson is ready to battle. Ready to take on Bosa, keep Matthew Stafford upright and pave the way for a dormant run game. It isn't about erasing the past but owning the present.
The 49ers are no joke. They never are. San Francisco is well-coached, disciplined and relentless—just like Jackson. He knows what to expect of their defense.
After coming off a loss last week, Fred Warner, Bosa, and the rest of the 49ers squad are hungry, but so is he. This isn't just another game; it's a proving ground. The Rams are reeling, but there is hope they can salvage a season on the brink with Jackson back.
LaFleur talked about the challenge. Jackson doesn't need reminding. He's lived it, faced it repeatedly: Deommodore Lenoir and Charvarius Ward on the outside, Warner lurking in the middle of the field, Bosa charging in like a freight train—it is a test of will as much as skill. But Jackson is ready for it. He has to be; it's imperative that he must. The Rams need that mountain to stand firm; it can't crumble, and he isn't about to let them down again.
There is a weight to the moment, but Jackson has carried heavier. He has something to prove, sure, but more than that, he has a responsibility. To his teammates. To himself. To the game he loves. And when Sunday comes, with the lights on and millions watching, he will be standing tall in the thick of it, a mountain amidst the chaos––with his brothers.