Jets fans didn’t just lose a hero in Nick Mangold, they lost a friend

On Sunday, October 26th, the world lost a lot. It lost a kind soul. It lost a community leader. It lost a father. It lost a husband. It lost a son. It lost a hero. And it lost it all in the form of one man, Nicholas Allan Mangold.

To those reading this, you likely know him better as Nick Mangold. And you likely remember him from his time as the New York Jets' starting center from 2006 to 2016.

After dominating at Ohio State University, he was selected 29th overall in the first round of the 2006 NFL Draft by the Jets. Pretty quickly, he became the greatest center on the planet for close to a decade. But his legacy extends far beyond the football field.

Personally, Nick Mangold was sort of my neighbor. When he retired, he decided to stay "close to home," and permanently settled down just a few minutes from the Jets' Florham Park, NJ headquarters. He resided in the small town called Madison, in a home just about three minutes from my house. With a stellar reputation among the local community, the loss is tangible.

It's an absolute tragedy. And it's hard to turn thoughts into words today, but it's only right to say goodbye to our friend, the great Nick Mangold.

Nick Mangold was the heart and soul of all of us

About a year and a half ago, I was driving down a street parallel to mine on the way to pick up groceries. It was a beautiful summer Sunday. As I made my way down the road, I saw a mass of a man walking a dog about the size of his shoe. He had a big blonde beard and long flowing hair. And, again, he was massive.

When I see a big dude with blonde hair and a beard, I'm likely to make the joke, "he looks like Nick Mangold." I began to say that to myself, until it hit me. This actually was Nick Mangold.

In the span of three seconds, I had a bunch of conflicting thoughts. Part of me was still a little kid, wanting to pull over, get out of my car, and thank "Mr. Mangold" for all he has done. Part of me wanted to roll the window down and give him a classic, "J-E-T-S!" chant. And part of me realized that I'm a grown man, and I should allow another grown man to enjoy his Sunday in peace.

I went with the third option.

I did, however, immediately call multiple family members and friends to let them know. It sounds silly, but it was a big deal to me. As a lifelong Jets fan who really started to understand football around 2006, he's been in my life basically forever. I remember the day of the 2006 draft. "We got this kid out of Ohio State; he should be pretty good," my dad said.

Yeah. He was pretty good, alright.

I remember when we had just signed Brett Favre out of retirement. It was a huge deal. In one of his first practices, he and Nick Mangold ran a penalty lap after a fumbled snap. Jets fans used the opportunity to give the future Hall of Fame QB a standing ovation, prompting Mangold to find the humor in being cheered for a mistake. It was apparent early that the young center had a sense of humor.

I remember when it became clear that he was special. It didn't take long for him to start making Pro Bowls and rightfully earn the reputation as the league's best center. It coincided with the Jets' rise to relevance and eventually success.

He was an integral part of the back-to-back AFC championship Rex Ryan teams. With an offensive line that included names like D'Brickashaw Ferguson, Alan Faneca, Damien Woody, and Brandon Moore, he was clearly the best of the bunch. He was that good.

I remember in 2016 hearing that he was being released and would ultimately retire. In my head, I thought, "But then who's going to play center?" 74 in green was so entrenched in my memory on Sundays that the thought of any other center snapping the ball to our conveyor belt of quarterbacks felt impossible. After 10 years, he had become a constant. He had become a given. Not having him would be weird.

I remember when he was inducted into the Jets' "Ring of Honor." He donned the green jacket at the 50-yard line of MetLife Stadium, where he made a career of bulldozing opposing defensive linemen.

As he addressed the adoring crowd, he wielded an ice-cold Bud Light in his hand. That was who he was. Like I said, he had a sense of humor – even during a ceremony in his honor. He was one of a kind.

When he retired, he could have moved back home to Ohio. Why not? That's where he met his high school sweetheart and future wife. It would have made sense.

But he had created a home here. He was a Jet. He wasn't going anywhere. In fact, he was going to remain within jogging distance of the facility. He moved all the way from the town of Chatham to the town of Madison (maybe a two-minute drive from each other) and settled down in the friendly confines of Morris County.

He was a charitable man who supported New York City first responders via the "Answer the Call" foundation. He would go on to coach the offensive line at local football powerhouse, Delbarton High School, in 2024. He was a staple of the community.

When he recently announced publicly that he needed a kidney donation, the outpouring of support was all you needed to understand what Nick Mangold meant to everyone he crossed paths with. He was universally loved. He didn't take his success, his platform, or his riches for granted. He paid it all forward.

Nick Mangold became prominent very early on in my life. To me, he is the Jets. His loyalty through feability mirrored all of our Jets fandom. Is it fun to unconditionally support a franchise that only exists to disappoint? No. But he did it because the Jets were in his blood. The same way we also do it. Because the Jets are in our blood.

On Sunday, the Jets won a game. They won a game they weren't expected to, and they won a game that seemed out of reach for the majority of the day. Down 15 going into the fourth quarter, a victory didn't seem possible.

But on the strength of the run game, they came back to win. They put up 502 total yards of offense, including 254 yards rushing. Justin Fields had time to throw, and holes were wide open for Breece Hall and Isaiah Davis all day.

I know Nick Mangold wasn't blocking for them, of course, but I watched the whole game like he was. And based on the team's performance, it felt like he was. I watched the game as if I weren't a pessimistic fan, as if it were 2010 again. I watched as if the Jets were still in the playoff hunt.

It may be the only exciting game the Jets play. It may be the only game they win all year. But if there was one game to win, it was this one. And they did.

So farewell, Nick Mangold. Thank you for being one of the greatest athletes I ever had the pleasure of rooting for. Thank you for never giving up on us, like most players eventually do. Thank you for representing the green and white with class, dignity, and pride. Thank you for giving back to our local community and embracing us. Thank you for setting an example for young people and athletes everywhere.

Thank you for being Nick Mangold.