Silence between Garrett Wilson and Aaron Rodgers lingers as Jets-Steelers opener looms
Garrett Wilson didn’t hedge, stall, or soften his answer. Asked Thursday if he’s kept in touch with Aaron Rodgers since the quarterback’s release in February, the New York Jets’ Pro Bowl wideout said, “I ain’t talked to Aaron since he left, so wish him the best this season. Yeah, but we ain’t chopped it up since he left.” That’s a striking admission four days before the Jets face Rodgers and the Pittsburgh Steelers at MetLife Stadium.
On paper, the pairing worked. In their time together, Wilson delivered his best season as a pro: 101 receptions, 1,104 yards, and seven touchdowns. Inside the building, it wasn’t that simple. Team sources describe a relationship that frayed as the year wore on. Misreads piled up. So did frustrations. Then came the midseason trade for Davante Adams — Rodgers’ longtime friend and favorite target — and the passing-game hierarchy shifted. Adams out-targeted Wilson by 25 over their 11 games together, and the ripple effects landed everywhere.
“It just started changing, especially when Davante got there,” said one person familiar with the dynamic. “It really changed, but it was changing before that — Rodgers and Garrett not being on the same page and Aaron getting frustrated, then Garrett getting frustrated.” For a Jets offense trying to stabilize week-to-week, that misalignment became a theme, not an outlier.
The result was a 5-12 season defined by choppy performances and blunt postgame assessments. By winter, the organization reset. Rodgers was released. Other pieces moved. The team made clear it wanted a different kind of offensive ecosystem — one that didn’t revolve around the gravitational pull of a single quarterback-receiver friendship, or a weekly tug-of-war over targets.
Wilson’s brief comment — respectful but distant — tracks with that reset. He’s not swinging at Rodgers. He’s also not re-litigating a year that wore everyone down. The message is simple: no lingering back-and-forth, no performative thaw. The disconnect says as much as any quote.
Week 1 stakes: new quarterback, new roles, old emotions
For Wilson, the future looks settled — and expensive. He signed a four-year, $130 million extension before training camp, a commitment that puts him at the center of the Jets’ identity on offense. He’s also back with a familiar passer. Justin Fields, Wilson’s college quarterback at Ohio State, is now the Jets’ starter. That reunion matters. Fields knows where Wilson wins (quick game, intermediate crossers, double-move shots), and Wilson understands Fields’ rhythm outside the pocket. If the Jets’ offense pivots to timing and yards after the catch — with designed movement to unlock Fields’ legs — Wilson’s volume should normalize after last year’s late-season squeeze.
Across the field, Rodgers has settled in quickly with Pittsburgh. He’s already logging extra reps with a new cast, including two-time Pro Bowler DK Metcalf. The connection has raised eyebrows in the building for how fast it’s come together. Metcalf acknowledged the emotional charge behind Sunday’s matchup for his new quarterback: there’s “kind of a bad taste left in his mouth from the previous year.” A clean debut in the place he just left? That’s the subtext everyone expects.
Strip away the storylines and the football questions are straightforward. Can the Jets build an offense that feeds Wilson early without tipping their hand? Can Fields stress Pittsburgh horizontally and force lighter boxes for the run game? And how does New York’s secondary handle Rodgers’ tempo, especially if he leans on back-shoulder throws and quick outs to keep the pass rush off him?
Inside the Jets’ facility, the test isn’t just tactical; it’s psychological. Rodgers had a big voice in the meeting rooms. His cadence set the pace during the week. Removing that presence changes everything — how routes are coached, how in-game adjustments are made, even who speaks up in the huddle when the plan breaks down. Wilson’s leadership is part of the answer. So is a cleaner target tree, where roles are defined and rewarded by game plan, not by reputation.
Key markers in the fallout and reset:
- Midseason shift: After the Adams trade, target distribution tilted markedly away from Wilson, undercutting the early-season chemistry he had with Rodgers.
- Locker-room strain: Sources describe mounting frustration between quarterback and receiver as reads diverged and drive-killing misfires stacked up.
- Organizational pivot: A 5-12 finish triggered personnel and philosophical changes, culminating in Rodgers’ release and a retooled offense around Fields and Wilson.
- New contracts, new stakes: Wilson’s four-year, $130 million extension underscores his role as the face of the passing game.
What about Sunday? Expect Wilson to be featured on scripted plays: quick hitters to get him in rhythm, a deep shot off play-action to test Pittsburgh’s safeties, and at least one designed scramble drill where Fields and Wilson improvise off structure — a staple from their Ohio State days. If the Jets can get to third-and-manageable, Wilson’s route savvy becomes a problem on option routes and slants against off coverage.
For Rodgers, the chessboard is familiar. He’ll hunt mismatches with motion and pace, using quick snaps to catch substitutions midstream and free runners on shallow crossers. If Metcalf draws safety help over the top, watch for Rodgers to find favorable leverage inside, forcing the Jets to tackle in space. The first quarter should tell you if New York’s plan is working: fewer second-and-long situations, fewer isolation throws, more rhythm for Fields.
All of this plays out under a layer of human drama that football never quite shakes. Wilson says he wishes Rodgers well. Rodgers clearly wants to prove a point. The silence between them suggests their relationship lived mostly between the lines — productive when the plan worked, strained when it didn’t. Sunday is a chance for both to reset the narrative in real time, one catch and one throw at a time.
There’s no need for trash talk to juice the stakes. The crowd at MetLife will supply the soundtrack. The tape will tell the truth. And for two stars who once shared a sideline, the cleanest message might be the one neither has to say out loud.
