Jordan Devey was the kind of football player most fans never learned to name, but the guys lining up next to him knew exactly who he was. The 6-foot-7 offensive lineman won a Super Bowl ring with the New England Patriots, bounced around five NFL teams, and then walked away from the game to coach high school kids in Idaho. On Tuesday, July 21, 2026, he died at the age of 38.
His family says he died by suicide after what they described as a long, private battle he kept mostly to himself. His wife, Linsey, shared the news on social media Friday, on what would have been the couple’s 15th wedding anniversary. The family announced his death through a GoFundMe campaign, writing that the loss left them to face “an incredibly difficult and heartbreaking time.”
He leaves behind Linsey and their four children, who she said carry his “eyes, freckles, and compassion.” Her message ended with a line that has stuck with a lot of people who read it: “as you said in your last words to me, we’ll talk soon.”
He Played in the Marching Band, Not on the Football Team
Here is the part of Devey’s story that almost nobody expects. He grew up in American Fork, Utah, and during his high school years he never played a single snap of football. Not one. He was in the marching band instead.
The football part came later, and it came from an odd direction. Devey served a church mission in Costa Rica for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and it was around that stretch of his life that he got inspired to give the sport a real shot. He enrolled at Snow College, a small two-year school in Utah, before transferring to the University of Memphis. For a guy who started that late, the size helped. At 6-foot-7, he was hard to miss.
His mother, Leslie, put it plainly when she spoke to reporters after his death. “He was always energetic, athletic, kind, generous, full of laughs,” she said. His father, Kerry, said that at that height Jordan could really make an impression on people, but that it was his character that stood out more than his frame.
A Ring With the Patriots and a Suitcase That Never Unpacked
Devey went undrafted out of Memphis. In spring 2013, he signed with the Baltimore Ravens as an undrafted free agent, spent an offseason there, and then latched on with the New England Patriots’ practice squad that September. That is about as far from a guaranteed NFL career as it gets. Practice squad players are one bad week away from a phone call telling them to clean out their locker.
But he clawed his way onto the active roster. In 2014, he saw his first regular-season action, playing in several games and picking up a handful of starts as the Patriots rolled through the season. That team beat the Seattle Seahawks in Super Bowl XLIX. Devey, the former marching band kid who did not play high school ball, had a championship ring.
New England traded him to the San Francisco 49ers in the summer of 2015, and that is where he got the most work of his career. He appeared in 15 games with nine starts at guard. From there he moved on to the Kansas City Chiefs for three seasons, then short stops with the Oakland/Las Vegas Raiders and the Buffalo Bills. He played his final NFL game with Buffalo in 2020 and retired in 2021. Across seven seasons he appeared in 44 games and started 21 of them.
His mother made a point about that number that a lot of casual fans miss. “An eight-year career as an offensive lineman is longevity,” Leslie said. “Most people don’t last that long. Their bodies just can’t take the wear and tear that happens.”
The Only Man Who Blocked for Brady, Mahomes, and Allen
Bouncing around five franchises can look like a rough-luck career on paper. In Devey’s case it produced a piece of NFL trivia that no other human being can claim. He is the only player in league history to have blocked for all three of these quarterbacks: Tom Brady in New England, Patrick Mahomes in Kansas City, and Josh Allen in Buffalo.
Think about what that means. Three of the most talked-about quarterbacks of the last two decades, three different eras, and one lineman who kept them upright. Brady has seven Super Bowl rings. Mahomes has become the face of the league. Allen is one of the most physical quarterbacks in the game. Devey protected all of them at one point or another. That is not a stat a coach can plan for. It just happened, one roster move at a time, to a guy who took the long road into the sport in the first place.
The Idaho Coach the Players Called Their Mentor
After football, Devey and his family settled in Eagle, Idaho, a suburb outside Boise. He became the offensive line coach at Eagle High School, and by every account the kids loved him. His father said coaching and mentoring young athletes became one of Jordan’s greatest passions, second only to caring for his own children.
“When he came home, that was his priority,” Kerry Devey said. “Those kids are truly going to miss not having their daddy there. He was all in as a family man. He took care of every single one of them.” He spent countless hours volunteering as a coach for his own children’s teams too, not just the high school squad.
The Eagle High School football program posted a tribute that summed up what he meant to that town. “The fields won’t feel the same without him, but his influence will never leave them,” the program wrote. “Every practice, every game, every lesson about teamwork, perseverance and doing things the right way carries a piece of what Jordan stood for. Rest easy, Coach.”
A Battle His Family Says He Kept Hidden
What makes this one hit so hard for the people who knew him is that almost nobody saw it coming. His parents say Devey was quietly dealing with depression and anxiety while everyone around him saw the energetic, laughing family man.
“We’re only beginning to understand that he was fighting a battle that he very well kept hidden from everyone,” Leslie Devey said. His father added a line that a lot of parents will recognize in their own bones: “You think you’re strong until something like this happens, and it brings you to your knees.”
The family also raised the possibility of CTE, or chronic traumatic encephalopathy, the brain condition tied to repeated head impacts that has come up again and again around former football players. “We believe that he possibly suffered from CTE,” Leslie said, pointing to signs and symptoms the family noticed. They also said they will not be able to confirm it, because the condition can only be diagnosed after death through an examination of brain tissue, and testing will not be performed given the circumstances of how he died. No official diagnosis has been made, and the family has been careful to call it a possibility, not a certainty.
The Deveys said Jordan had registered as an organ donor, and they are urging others to sign up too. They have turned their grief into a plea for other people to talk about what they are carrying before it gets to a breaking point.
What the Family Wants People to Take From This
Instead of retreating from the public, Kerry and Leslie Devey spoke openly with reporters in Boise because they want their son’s death to mean something for someone else. Their message was simple and direct.
“We want people to understand that it’s okay to reach out,” Leslie said. “That help is there, and there’s nothing wrong with you for reaching out. You’re not fighting the battle alone.” She pointed to the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline as a resource anyone can use, even people who do not feel ready to open up to their own family. “That is a resource that is very much at your fingertips to call and be able to have that help in those times of crisis,” she said.
The community has responded. A GoFundMe set up to help Linsey and the four kids cover expenses had raised more than $92,000 as of that Saturday, with donations and messages pouring in from former teammates, coaches, and neighbors in both Utah and Idaho.
Jordan Devey took the strangest possible road to the top of professional football, from the marching band in American Fork to a Super Bowl field. He spent the years after protecting a group of high school kids the same way he protected quarterbacks. He is survived by his wife and four children, and by a town full of players who called him Coach. If you or someone you know is struggling, you can call or text 988 anytime.
