BREAKING NEWS: Justin Jefferson Pens Emotional Open Letter to Ja’Marr Chase and LSU Tigers Community — “We Are Forever Linked”

April 25, 2025
By Mary John

In a moment that stunned the college football world and captivated the hearts of Tiger Nation, Minnesota Vikings superstar wide receiver Justin Jefferson released a powerful and emotional open letter this morning addressed to Ja’Marr Chase, the LSU Tigers community, and the legacy they all built together in Baton Rouge.

The letter, which appeared on Jefferson’s personal website and was later shared across social media, reads like a love letter to a program, a brotherhood, and a bond forged in one of the most dominant seasons in college football history.

What follows is the full, unedited open letter from Jefferson, in his own words:

Dear Ja’Marr, Coach O, the 2019 Brotherhood, and every soul who bleeds purple and gold,

It’s been a long time coming.

I’ve written this in my head a hundred times. After wins. After losses. On long flights. After touchdown dances. After watching one of your highlight reels, Ja’Marr. After hearing “Neck” play in the background of a memory I didn’t know I still had.

But today felt like the right time.

I want to say thank you. And not the kind of thank you that gets thrown out there in interviews. I’m talking about the kind of thank you that starts in your chest and doesn’t stop until the tears hit the floor. That’s the thank you I owe all of you.

Because LSU didn’t just change my life—it defined it.

You know what’s funny? People talk about the 2019 team now like we were always destined for greatness. Like we were some sort of unbeatable Avengers squad sent to rewrite the history books. But those of us who were in those locker rooms? We remember the doubt. The media chatter. The preseason predictions that had us outside the top five.

I remember when folks said I was “too skinny.” Said I wasn’t strong enough. Said I wouldn’t be the guy. And then, across from me in the wide receiver room, there was Ja’Marr—raw, quiet, laser-focused. People didn’t realize the storm that was coming. Not just from you, bro. From all of us.

We weren’t supposed to be that good.

But something magical happened in Baton Rouge that year. And it wasn’t just Joe’s arm. Or Clyde running like a man possessed. Or Thad racking up catches. Or Derek shutting down receivers.

It was us.

It was Coach O believing in us when others didn’t. It was Joe Brady and Steve Ensminger building an offense that let us breathe fire. It was the brotherhood. It was the second we stopped playing for attention and started playing for each other.

I know people love to compare us. Who’s WR1? Who’s got the better release? Who put up bigger numbers?

Truth is, I’ve never seen it that way.

You were my edge. You were the guy who pushed me to stay after practice. To sharpen every route. To turn friendly competition into fuel. I watched you take the top off defenses like it was personal. I saw that switch flip when the lights came on.

But more than anything, I saw your heart.

You didn’t just want to win. You wanted us to win. Every time you celebrated a TD, you looked for someone to hug. Every time you got mobbed on the sideline, you were already talking about the next play.

We were two dogs with the same bone. And man, we ate that year.

So to you, Ja’Marr—thank you for being my brother in arms. Thank you for the laughs in the locker room. The competition that brought the best out of me. The silent understanding when we lined up opposite each other and knew exactly how the DBs were about to get cooked.

Whether it’s NFL Sundays or life off the field, we’re forever tied.

I still remember my first time stepping onto the field in Tiger Stadium. The lights. The roar. The smell of gumbo in the air. The feeling that this place wasn’t just a stadium—it was alive.

You all gave me that.

You chanted our names. You celebrated every moment like it was Mardi Gras. You made us feel like warriors defending a kingdom. I’ve never felt more loved, more seen, more supported than I did in Death Valley.

It wasn’t just game days, either.

It was the kid with the No. 2 jersey asking for an autograph after practice. The grandmothers who sent us homemade food. The teachers who understood when we were too tired to stay awake in 8 a.m. class after a brutal workout.

Y’all were there for every piece of it.

And I want you to know—you still are. Even now. Every touchdown I score in the NFL, I carry Baton Rouge with me. Every time I dance in the end zone, I hear the echoes of our student section chanting “GEAUX TIGERS!”

LSU isn’t just where I played college ball. It’s where I became a man.

I can’t write this letter without talking about Coach O.

Coach, you saw me. You saw something in a kid from Destrehan that others overlooked. You didn’t care about the stars next to my name. You cared about my fight. My fire. My desire to be great.

You pulled me aside more times than I can count. You told me I belonged. You reminded me of my worth when I doubted it. You gave me a seat at the table—and then challenged me to earn my plate.

You made us believe. Not just in football. But in ourselves. In each other. In LSU.

I hope I’ve made you proud. I hope you see what your belief in me helped become. Because without you, there’s no Justin Jefferson breaking records. There’s no “Griddy” in the end zone. There’s no 2019 magic.

There’s just a quiet kid with a dream—and maybe no shot at living it.

Thank you, Coach. Forever.

People always ask what made that 2019 team different.

I tell them it wasn’t the points. Or the stats. Or the blowout wins.

It was the love.

It was looking into each other’s eyes and knowing we were part of something that would never be duplicated. It was waking up for workouts not because we had to—but because we didn’t want to let each other down. It was us against the world, and we wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To every single player on that team—from starters to walk-ons—you are part of my DNA. We did something no one can ever take away from us.

A perfect season. A Heisman. A Natty. And memories that still feel like a dream.

We are forever linked.

To the kids watching Ja’Marr and me on Sundays, dreaming of wearing purple and gold one day…

Keep dreaming.

LSU isn’t just a football program—it’s a family. And if you get the chance to be a part of it, hold on with both hands. Give it everything. Love your brothers. Listen to your coaches. Trust your journey.

Because one day, you’ll look back and realize these were the most important days of your life.

And maybe—just maybe—you’ll write your own letter.

As expected, the sports world erupted in emotion following the release of the letter.

Ja’Marr Chase responded first, reposting the letter with a caption that simply read: “You already know, blood. Brothers for life. #2019.”

Coach Ed Orgeron issued a statement of his own:

“Justin Jefferson is everything LSU stands for—grit, heart, family. That 2019 team will go down in history, but it’s the people that make it unforgettable. I love you, JJ.”

Current LSU head coach Brian Kelly added:

“We remind our guys every day about the 2019 team. Not just what they accomplished—but how they loved each other. Justin’s letter captures that spirit better than anything.”

Even NFL stars like Joe Burrow and Clyde Edwards-Helaire chimed in, posting tiger emojis and referencing the unbreakable bond of that iconic championship team.

With this letter, Justin Jefferson has done more than stir nostalgia. He’s reminded everyone—fans, players, and coaches alike—what college football is really about.

Not just stats. Not just rankings.

But relationships. Brotherhood. And the kind of legacy that echoes far beyond a scoreboard.

For LSU fans, this letter is a treasure.

For college football, it’s a masterpiece.

For Ja’Marr Chase and the Tigers, it’s a love letter that will last forever.