Daniel Jones' fiery, emotional display was met with Giant approval . . . except from himself
New York Giants quarterback Daniel Jones (8) warms up before an NFL football game against the Pittsburgh Steelers, Monday, Oct. 28, 2024, in Pittsburgh. Credit: AP/Matt Freed
That funky formation on the failed two-point conversion against the Steelers last week wasn’t the only odd part of the play. What happened after it was just as unusual.
Daniel Jones came off the field showing signs of visible frustration at the incomplete pass that was scuttled by poor timing and lack of communication. He was throwing his hands around in anger and screaming some pretty unprintable words, clearly irritated that a scenario the Giants had been working on for several weeks could not connect.
While the Giants would have much preferred to get the two points out of it, many seemed to be surprised and impressed by the rare emotional explosion from the quarterback.
Even coach Brian Daboll — who hardly ever heaps praise on Jones and in fact spent a portion of his postgame remarks in Pittsburgh explaining in detail that it was Jones’ own absent-mindedness and not the play-calling that left T.J. Watt single-teamed on the pivotal strip-sack in the fourth quarter — went out of his way to salute Jones’ temper.
“I loved it,” Daboll said. “Competitive, fiery, that’s what you want from your quarterback. Good for him to do that.”
Wide receiver Wan’Dale Robinson agreed.
“We definitely like seeing D.J. get a little fired up and show some emotion out there,” he told Newsday. “It gets us juiced up and gets us going too. Seeing him like that gets us riled up and it’s like, ‘OK, let’s go!’ You see it a little bit more in practices than you do in games, but even then you don’t see it too often, so it’s pretty nice whenever you do see it.”
There is one very important person, however, who does not seem to think that Jones should be demonstrative at all and that he should keep his cool no matter how things play out on the field.
It’s Jones himself.
The quarterback seemed disappointed in himself for the outburst and said he much prefers to maintain a calm stoicism while on the field. It’s not for the sake of his image but for his performance.
“I try to do a good job controlling myself and controlling my emotions,” Jones said. “You think better, you play better. There’s a time and a place for everything, but yeah, I’ve found I’m able to play my best, think my best, prepare my best when I’m in control.”
That may be the biggest underlying disconnect between Jones and the current Giants regime as they begin what is shaping up to be their final half-season together.
Daboll, who shows every emotion on the sideline during games, whether it’s aimed toward players, assistants or officials, is one of the more animated head coaches in the league. While he has worked to curtail his outbursts this season, it remains impossible to look at him during a game and not know right away how things are progressing for his team.
Jones, meanwhile, typically maintains his unreadable detachment from all of the human elements that play out on the field. His stony face would fit right in on Easter Island.
He’s the same person whether the fans are chanting his name at MetLife Stadium, as they did when he helped the Giants clinch a playoff spot less than two years ago, or he is booed off that same field because he hasn’t thrown a touchdown pass in the building since then.
Neither of the two seems to understand how or why the other can function the way he does.
“Consistent,” Daboll said of Jones’ approach through this difficult stretch. “He’s usually pretty level-headed . . . He comes in. He spends a lot of time here. He does everything he can to take care of his body. Spends a ton of time with the film. Spends extra time with the linemen, the [running] backs, the [wide] receivers. Comes out here and practices the right way. Tries to be as good as he can be.”
Daboll said he hasn’t seen anything different from Jones than he has since he arrived here.
That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to, though.
“I want him to be him,” Daboll said. “But I don’t mind emotion.”
Jones, meanwhile, simply won’t give in to his feelings.
Everybody at some level knows and understands that Jones badly wants to win, that he is giving his all toward that pursuit and attempting to pull a flawed roster with him on a journey that might not make it there. Obviously, his teammates and coaches have an intimate knowledge of that drive as witnesses to it each day.
Fans, though, like to see it once in a while with their own eyes. It’s one of the reasons why Tommy DeVito briefly connected with this team and staff and region in a way Jones — a far better quarterback — has been unable to. DeVito let us all in. Jones keeps us out.
The quarterback makes it clear that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. And no one, certainly not Daboll, is accusing him of that.
“I’ve always played really hard, I’ve always played tough, I’ve played with an edge,” Jones said. “I believe in that strongly, and that’s something I always do every time I step on the field. How I show that, how much I yell, I don’t think that’s directly correlated with that. I always play with an edge and play with a chip. And there’s a time and place to maybe show some of that. But it doesn’t change how hard I play, or it doesn’t change my edge at all.”
Jones said he hasn’t paid much attention to the reactions his mini-tantrum elicited, which were mostly positive.
“That time, I didn’t do as good a job [controlling myself], but it’s football and we’re into it,” he said. “We care about it a lot and it’s frustrating when you don’t get the result.”
For one brief moment last week, at least, it was clear and obvious that everyone was in agreement on that.
Tom Rock began covering sports for Newsday in 1996 and became its NFL columnist in 2022. He previously was Newsday's Giants beat writer beginning in 2008.
