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This article is part of our Life on the Other Side of the Game series, which looks at the lessons former athletes have learned in retirement about success, fulfillment and perspective.
Jason Brown played seven years in the NFL. In 2009, he became the highest-paid center in the NFL. Today, he owns and operates First Fruits Farm in Louisburg, N.C.
When I turned 27, I looked in the mirror. My whole life flashed before my eyes. I began to measure myself and everything I had accomplished compared to my older brother.
Dude, I was living the American dream at the time. I was the highest-paid center in the NFL, right there on the cusp of making my first Pro Bowl, living in a 10,000-square-foot mansion.
But I was always inspired by my older brother’s service and sacrifice. His name was Lunsford Bernard Brown II, and he was slain in service in Iraq on Sept. 20, 2003.
When he died, I was in the middle of my junior season at North Carolina. It was a breakout season for me on the football field, but man, that rocked me. It rocked me to my core.
I thought about quitting football and dropping out of school. But I told myself I could honor his legacy by trying to be the best person I could be, trying to be the best football player I could be.
That propelled me to another gear. The Baltimore Ravens selected me in the fourth round of the 2005 NFL draft. I had a great four years there, hit free agency and broke the bank in 2009 when I signed with the St. Louis Rams and became the highest-paid center in the league.
And then on my 27th birthday, I looked in the mirror. It was kind of early to have a midlife crisis, but my older brother was seven years older than me. He was 27 when he died.
I said to myself that day: There’s more to me, and there’s more I could do to give back. I did a lot of soul searching, and I prayed.
I compared my life to my brother’s. He lived a life of service and sacrifice. I was living a life of entertainment.
I said to myself: What could I do to be more on the side of service and sacrifice?
I always think about that famous Paul Harvey speech: “So God made a farmer.”
Remember, I went to school at the University of North Carolina. It is an arts school. My degree is in interpersonal communications. I can sit here and talk your head off all day long. I can carry a crowd. I can make them laugh, make them cry. I’m comfortable with that.
Being a farmer? That was pulling me 100 percent out of my comfort zone.
Two years later, in March 2012, I was released. I got this phone call from Jeff Fisher, the head coach of the Rams. He said: Hey Jason, just wanted to thank you for your contributions to the team. I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to be moving in a different direction.
That’s how you get fired in the NFL.
I had already felt called to become a farmer. I had told my agent: If something happens and I’m released, I might hang up my cleats.
He said: You still have so many great years ahead of you. Let me do my job, and I’ll give you a call back.
There were three NFL teams I always wanted to play for more than anything. The first was the Carolina Panthers, my home team. The second was the Baltimore Ravens, who drafted me. I never wanted to leave Baltimore; I loved Baltimore. And the third team was the San Francisco 49ers.
My wife, Tay, is from the Bay Area.
In 2012, my agent called me back and said: Jason, I’ve got three teams that want to sign you to a deal right now.
I shouldn’t have entertained him, but I asked him who the teams were. You know what he said?
The Carolina Panthers. The Baltimore Ravens. And the San Francisco 49ers.
I said to myself: Oh, no.
When you get to be an older player, you start to think: I want to play here. I don’t want to play there. My wife and I had already talked about it. I didn’t want to play anywhere in Florida. It’s too hot and too humid. Places where it was cold and freezing? No, thanks.
That wasn’t an issue for those three teams.
My wife asked me one thing: If one of them makes it to the Super Bowl and you had the opportunity to get a ring but walked away, are you going to be able to live with that?
It was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever had to make in my life.
Was I going to continue playing football and be self-serving? Or was I going to step out on faith and live a life of purpose?
So I told my wife: I’ve got to live with it.
And that’s how I became a farmer.
Jason Brown said he was living the American dream in the NFL. (Whitney Curtis / Getty Images)
We purchased a 1,000-acre tract of land that was previously an old dairy farm in Louisburg, N.C.
I didn’t know anything about farming. I had to start from ground zero.
When I played football, I watched countless hours of film before every game. I did the same thing with farming. I watched countless hours of YouTube videos, trying to emulate what I saw and transfer it to the farm field, the same way I transferred game film to the football field.
Our very first year, we had a huge, better-than-expected yield of sweet potatoes. That gave me confidence to keep going.
Every single day, I focus on the simple things. Collecting eggs. Taking care of the crops, the fruit and nut trees, the perennials. We call them our farm chores. The fundamentals.
I learned many awesome things from football that helped me make that transition.
First of all, teamwork. There are so many tasks on a farm that you can’t do it by yourself. Our family has grown over the years. We now have eight awesome, beautiful children. I share this with my children: We’re a team. We’re a family team. We’re a farm team.
As the center in the NFL, at the end of every single play, I would walk a little more than five yards behind the ball and scream, “HUDDLE!” Then it got to the point where I didn’t have to yell it; I’d just hold up my fist. I was the anchor point.
Well, now I’ll actually call a family huddle. When I hold my fist up, all my children know: Be quiet, circle around Dad and let’s listen up and pay attention.
We’ll go over all the roles and responsibilities. I’ll go from my oldest to my youngest and give out responsibilities. I look at each one of them: Are we on the same page? We’ve got this?
I don’t have to force it on my children to teach them discipline, work ethic and responsibility. It’s built into the farm culture.
Jason Brown on the farm with his children. (Photo courtesy of Jason Brown)
When I see them connect the dots, I feel like a coach seeing a player executing a play perfectly. I remember that twinkle in my coach’s eye and the sound in their voice when they saw me get it.
Dude, that was so meaningful as a player. I get to feel that way and have those moments on the farm with my children now.
They know how to raise chicken, beef, pork. They know how to process animals. They know how to hunt, they know how to fish, they know how to plant trees and raise a garden.
I just know they’re going to thrive.
That fulfills me now.
To date, we have grown, harvested and donated more than two million pounds of food. Our bread and butter is sweet potatoes because they grow well here in North Carolina. We have perennials everywhere: apples, pears, plums, figs, chestnut trees, pecan trees. You can name it.
In the summertime, we grow everything you’d need to make a salad: cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, squashes, lettuce, zucchini. In the fall, we have spinach and broccoli, cauliflower and cabbages, beets and radishes.
It’s a year-round process, but just like playing football, there is an offseason.
We also converted an old dairy barn into a wedding venue. I never thought I would be able to check off on my LinkedIn profile that I would be a wedding venue professional. And I’m still learning and figuring out ways to grow and reinvent myself.
I love it.
Here’s where it really came full circle for me. I was featured on “CBS Evening News,” and at the end of the segment, Scott Pelley said, “There’s a Hall of Famer.”
When I left the NFL, I had wondered: Can I achieve greatness and live a life of purpose away from football?
I never even made a Pro Bowl in the NFL, but when he said that, it meant a lot to me. Everybody needs some encouragement. Everybody needs words of affirmation.
I have hundreds of emails from people inspired to take a leap of faith in a career change. You don’t have to dive off into the deep end as I did.
That life of fame and fortune I used to live was pretty cool. But so is this new one.
— As told to Jayson Jenks
The Life on the Other Side of the Game series is part of a partnership with Prudential. The Athletic maintains full editorial independence. Partners have no control over or input into the reporting or editing process and do not review stories before publication.
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