He’s a mountain of talent with eclectic tastes. On the gridiron, Garrick Jones’ No. 1 job is protecting the Stamps QB
By George Johnson,
Calgary Herald
Miles Davis was the one. The languid, soulful, raw-nerve-ending sound of his horn is what initially resonated with a young Garrick Jones, drawing him insidiously in.
“Johnny Taylor, too. BB King. Oh, so many. But, yeah, I’d have to say Miles, early on,” the massive offensive tackle reckons on a bright, blue, high-definition-type morning at McMahon Stadium.
“You listen to Miles, you can’t help but be hooked.
“I’m into all kinds of music. Passionate about it, in fact. Jazz. R&B. Rap. Classical. I love classical. We tuck our babies in to sleep at night listening to classical music.”
Garrick Jones is a man of rather intimidating (six foot five, 312 pounds) size. Also a person of many parts. Of varied interests.
As chief executive of 73entertainment and Promotions, owner of Southern Flava Images, a graphic design concern, and part owner of Main Street Special Events and Catering, all companies based in Houston, where he used to play for the National Football League Texans, Jones has quite the diversified business portfolio on the go.
He has other investments to protect than Calgary Stampeders quarterback Henry Burris.
“I guess I just found what I wanted to do outside of football early on. Busy? Sure. I don’t have a lot of down time. But you just have to budget the hours. I enjoy it. I love the negotiating and the networking and” — he smiles — “the nepotism of business.”
As a sometimes absentee CEO/owner/part-owner, Jones compensates by working on the net or a conference call, and has been smart enough to hire people he trusts and then allow them to do their jobs.
“With 73entertainment, we handle concerts, promotions, you name it. It’s a company that promotes athletes getting into the music and entertainment fields. We have some NFL players involved, are getting more all the time. We’re talking to a few record labels now, Warner Bros. being one.
“I work at it a little during the season, all the time in the off-season. I’m involved in other ventures, but football is my job. My bread-and-butter.
“You get stereotyped, being an athlete. People look at you and say, ‘But he’s a . . . a . . . ballplayer!’ Well, yeah. I am. But there are more sides to me than just blocking for the quarterback. If people enjoy watching someone on a football field, stands to reason they’ll enjoy seeing another side of him, right? Singing. Rapping. Playing music. Reading poetry. Whatever a person’s particular talent.”
As if his football career — he’s expected to slot in directly to the left of old pro Jay McNeil on the Stampeders’ offensive line — and multi-faceted sidelights weren’t enough to keep Jones hopping, the arrival of twins Gizelle and Gavin in January made an already busy life a little bit more hectic.
“I call them my ‘miracle babies,’ ” he says proudly. “My wife (Chastity) had a lot of problems. There was a time when I thought I might lose all three of them . . .
“But that’s all behind us now.
“Being here, away from home, I miss them. But it makes my day when I hear them on the phone. Or when I receive a video. Or when I do have the chance to see, hold and hug ’em. They’ll be coming up here, once we get some things sorted out.”
After a standout collegiate run at Arkansas State, Jones began his pro and Canadian Football League career in Winnipeg, with the Blue Bombers, then spent three years and change in Houston, largely on the practice roster of the Texans. Late last season, he rejoined the Big Blue after time in Houston and with the Atlanta Falcons.
The Stampeders acquired him via trade on Feb. 16.
“When they told me, I have to admit I was shocked. I guess you’ve got to understand the business we’re in and just move on. It’s nothing personal. And you find out that there are good people everywhere.
“But I’ve been accepted by everyone on this team, in this organization. The coaches. The staff. The players.”
Burris strolls past on his way to the locker-room and Jones reaches out a meaty paw to playfully slap a shoulder pad.
“Like my man Henry here.
“We’re a family. A fraternity. A brotherhood.
“You know, I’ve pretty much done everything in this game. I’ve been cut. Traded. Been happy. Sad. On good teams. Bad teams. Been close to the big dance.
“The only thing I haven’t done is win a championship. And that’s what we’re all in this for.
“Winning a championship . . . now that would be sweet music.”
As sweet as the languid, soulful, raw-nerve-ending sound that drifts out of Miles’ horn every time Garrick Jones pops a disc into the CD player?
The big man shrugs.
“I don’t know about that. I’d sure like to find out.”
