He found out that his girlfriend, Shayanna Jenkins, was pregnant.
Aaron and Shayanna had known each other since elementary school and dated, on and off, since high school. Shayanna was beautiful, with high cheekbones, a heart-shaped face, and dark hair that fell beneath her shoulders. She was practically family. And now, she and Aaron would be starting a family of their own.
That bit of good news was accompanied by another, delivered by the Patriots owner, Robert Kraft.
On August 27, the Putnam Club at Gillette Stadium was filled with sharply dressed Patriots. It was the night of the team’s annual Charitable Foundation gala and Kraft—an avuncular billionaire who had taken Aaron under his arm—worked the room in a gray suit, a blue banker’s shirt, and a salmon-colored tie. Cameras flashed. Donors, sponsors, and reporters surrounded the players, paying special attention to Aaron Hernandez, who had just given Myra Kraft’s Giving Back Fund a major donation.
“Aaron came into my office a little teary-eyed,” Kraft told the reporters, “and presented me with a check for $50,000. I said ‘Aaron, you don’t have to do this, you’ve already got your contract.’”
The reporters laughed.
“No,” Aaron had said. “It makes me feel good and I want to do it.”
“I sensed that he was touched in doing that,” Kraft continued. “I didn’t request it. It’s something that he decided. And to flip the switch from living modestly to all of the sudden having a lot of income, I think we have to work real hard to help our young men adjust to that.”
Hernandez could afford to be generous: On that very day, he had signed a five-year, $40 million contract extension with the Patriots. The agreement was heavily structured toward its later years, with a 2018 base salary, of $6 million, that was almost six times larger than what Aaron would get in 2012. But the extension came with a $12.5-million signing bonus—the largest that any NFL team had ever offered a tight end.
Earlier that year, Rob Gronkowski had agreed to a six-year, $53 million contract extension—the biggest contract for a tight end in NFL history. But Gronk’s signing bonus of $8 million had been much lower than Hernandez’s.
“It’s surreal,” Hernandez said, when asked about the extension. “Probably when I’m done with this conversation I’ll get some tears in my eyes. But it’s real, and it’s an honor.”
Robert Kraft had changed his life, Hernandez told the reporters. And the gesture was all the more meaningful—even extraordinary—because Aaron’s original contract was not ending for some time and no other teams were competing for him at that moment.
Hernandez embraced Kraft, and kissed him on the cheek.
“I have a daughter on the way,” he said. “I have a family that I love. It’s just knowing that they’re going to be okay. Because I was happy playing for my $250,000, $400,000. Knowing that my kids and my family will be able to have a good life, go to college, it’s just an honor that he did that for me.”
Standing a few feet away, Ian Rapoport was struck by the “audible sincerity” in Aaron’s voice.
“I have a lot more to give back,” Hernandez said. “And all I can do is play my heart out for them, make the right decisions, and live life as a Patriot…I just hope I keep going, doing the right things, making the right decisions so I can have a good life, and be there to live a good life with my family.”
“I told Aaron on the day of his signing that this was a major accomplishment for him, but also a turning point in his life,” Hernandez’s agent, Brian Murphy, recalls.
“He wasn’t playing for money anymore because he had his contract. Instead, he was playing for his legacy and that was established on and off the field. He had to decide what that legacy would look like as a player, father, and husband. That is why he made the $50,000 donation to the Myra Kraft Foundation when he signed his contract. He was grateful to Mr. Kraft for drafting him, rewarding him with his new contract, and teaching him the Patriot Way. That was very real.
“Aaron wanted to be the best tight end to ever play. He was constantly studying film, getting work done on his body—massages, soft tissue work—and practiced as hard as anyone. He had a brilliant football mind and honestly felt that he was the best player on the team. Once Aaron got his big contract, he had a lot of demands from an enormous range of people. This is true of many players after getting big contracts, but in Aaron’s case, he had some people asking him for some really unusual stuff and there were so many requests.
“Aaron wanted to live life the Patriot Way because it had worked for him. It had gotten him a huge contract and respect throughout the league. Unfortunately, there were powerful forces pulling him in the other direction. That constant pull never stopped and eventually won.”
Chapter 38
Aaron and Shayanna got engaged that October. A few weeks later, on November 6, Aaron skipped practice. It was the Patriot’s twenty-third birthday, but he and Jenkins had something much more important to celebrate: the birth, on that day, of their daughter Avielle Janelle.
DJ Hernandez took to Twitter to express his joy: “I’m an uncle!”
Then, on the very next day, Aaron put on his white jersey and went back to work.
When a reporter asked him—“Why are you wearing your game-day uniform to practice?”—Hernandez replied: “Game time, that’s it!”
“I’m engaged now,” Aaron explained. “I have a baby. It’s just going to make me think of life a lot differently and doing things the right way. Now, another one is looking up to me. I can’t just be young and reckless Aaron no more. I’m going to try to do the right things, become a good father and [let Avielle] be raised like I was raised.”
Aaron and Shayanna bought a house at 22 Ronald C. Meyer Drive in North Attleboro, just off of Homeward Lane. Located less than ten miles away from Gillette Stadium, the 7,100-square-foot contemporary colonial mansion, which had been built for Patriots defensive tackle Ty Warren, had three stories, five bedrooms, six baths, a three-car garage, an in-ground pool, a movie theater, and a basement sauna and ice bath.
Piece by piece, the young couple were putting together a home to replace the one shattered by Dennis Hernandez’s death and Terri Hernandez’s marriage to Jeffrey Cummings. Family mattered to them. Aaron was still tight with his cousin Tanya and Shayanna was close to Shaneah, one of her two younger sisters.
Shaneah was more sober-minded than Shayanna, and more serious. She worked long hours, putting herself through Central Connecticut State University, where she was majoring in criminology, with an eye toward becoming a lawyer. Shaneah carried herself so maturely, she looked like the older sibling—although, in fact, Shayanna was two years older. But the two sisters were close, and on weekends, Shaneah would drive out to visit Shayanna in North Attleboro.
On most of the visits, she’d bring along her new boyfriend, a man named Odin Lloyd.
Lloyd had dark skin, a winning smile, an athletic physique. He had been born in Saint Croix, but raised in Dorchester—the same town that Daniel de Abreu and Safiro Furtado had lived in. He had been an excellent football player in high school, good enough to get into Delaware State. But Odin did not have the money for college. When his financial aid fell through, he dropped out and moved home. Still, Odin held on to his dreams: on days off from his job, at a Dorchester lawn fertilizer company, he played defense for a semi-pro team called the Boston Bandits.
Odin and Aaron had met in Foxborough, in August of 2012, when Hernandez had gotten Shaneah a skybox at Gillette Stadium for a birthday present. They had hit it off immediately. Hernandez was a bona fide football star. Lloyd was a stone-cold fan.