Jason Kelce’s Retirement Means the Departure of an Unexpected Eagles Epicenter

The veteran center redefined what leadership can mean in the NFL through his 13-year career in Philadelphia, something that will only continue to be proven in his absence.

Philadelphia Eagles center Jason Kelce announced his retirement Monday amid a tear-soaked ode to the merits of hard work. Clad in a sleeveless T-shirt, the center aimed to leave the building in his default armor; as someone who could synonymously blend into the environment and also come to define it.

The facts we know at this point in time are all but cemented. Kelce will go down as one of the greatest players to snap a football and one of the greatest offensive linemen. Period. He will be in the Hall of Fame. He will go down as one of the greatest siblings in the history of siblings, having resuscitated the career of his wayward brother, Travis, and setting the younger Kelce up for a Hall of Fame career as well.

He will go down as one of the great stewards of a football program, having achieved the impossible: unanimous likability of a city notorious for its prickliness and short memory. He will go down as one of the great ambassadors of a sacred football space, taking long stretches of time to explain the complexities of the game to inquiring reporters, and letting us in at a time when the league and most of its member clubs were intent on curbing us out. He will go down as one of the best members of a locker room, having a unique understanding of how people fit into an environment and what part he could play in making the entire orchestra run.

It is that last point that may linger on, and is the one we should earmark today, a few months before the Eagles report back to the facility for offseason training activities. Beyond all the well-deserved tributes, perhaps our greatest realization about Kelce will come down the road. We did not really understand Tom Brady until we saw him yanked from the New England Patriots and plugged into another outlet, only to provide the same luminosity.

There is no doubt that Kelce will brighten any broadcast booth or studio set he walks onto. There is a question as to how the Eagles will move on from a player who was all parts stalwart, psychiatrist, philosopher, motivator, brother and friend.
We may only think quarterbacks have that kind of power. We are about to find out that is not the case.

It’s always hard to watch a retirement press conference. Players are removing themselves from an IV drip of dopamine that, if they were good enough to merit a retirement press conference, has probably lasted for at least a decade. Their lives are about to change and alter in meaning similar to someone who endured a cross-country move, a death in the family or a miracle birth.

It’s normally a tad emotional, counterbalanced by the relief a player has in no longer subjecting himself to the absurdity that is professional football. But Kelce had to make all manner of dad sound effects—usually the way we sound getting out of a chair, picking up leaves or revving the lawn mower—just to keep himself from sobbing; from breaking down. He struggled in a way that was indicative of his love for the job. For his love of fellow people. For his love of football.