From Texas high schools to Ohio State to the Vikings, Donovan Jackson chases greatness

Donovan Jackson phoned his parents with a declaration before even leaving Minnesota following his top 30 pre-draft visit with the Vikings.

“I want to be a Viking,” Jackson said from Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport.

Todd Jackson heard the excitement in his son’s voice as he recited a list of reasons he was sold on the Vikings, from coach Kevin O’Connell to the locker room ceiling at TCO Performance Center mimicking a ship’s hull.

Jackson hadn’t made a call like that after his other visits, normally waiting until he was home in Texas or back to training in California before divulging details.

Anything he could do to become a Viking, Jackson told his parents, he wanted to do. They reminded him that wasn’t how things work in the NFL.

Only for Jackson, it kind of did.

On the first night of the NFL draft in April, Jackson’s declaration changed to “I am a Viking,” the phrase he yelled to a house full of friends and family after the phone call telling him the Vikings would pick him No. 24 overall.

Jackson, 22, is one of only a handful of first-string rookies at his position.

“It’s a dream come true, but it also makes you more determined to go even harder ’cause talent got me here, but I got to work even harder to stay,” Jackson said during training camp.

Talent played a hand in Jackson climbing the ranks through Texas youth and high school football to Ohio State and now the Vikings, yes.

But there’s a rule in the Jackson household: If you want to do something, you better put your whole effort into it.

Jackson and his parents say he ate his way into playing offensive line.

He was closer in height to the referees than his teammates, his parents joke. On the rare occasion he’d have the ball thrown to him, Jackson would barrel through defenders.

But he grew out of running back quickly. Coaches moved him to tight end, and he grew out of that, too.

Jackson was in middle school and just making the switch to playing on both the offensive and defensive lines when his dad asked him what his intention was in the sport so his guidance aligned with his son’s goals.

Jackson already had his future planned out in his mind. He communicated his goals clearly to his dad:

Melanie Jackson, a now-retired fifth-grade teacher, had heard hundreds of young boys say they wanted to be football players when they grew up. She hadn’t always been 100% on board with her son treating the sport as his Plan A but committed to the vision after that conversation.

Jackson said he didn’t necessarily realize the sacrifices his parents made for him to pursue football at a high level when he was young: rearranging schedules so he could do strength training and still wearing work clothes when they picked him up on days he asked to stay late at practice.

He understands now.

“It was never really a ‘no’ in terms of their part,” Jackson said. “They knew that this was my dream. They were gonna allow me to do whatever it took.”

His parents traveled around the country for different camps as Jackson’s recruitment progressed. Jackson attended his first collegiate camp around eighth grade at Ohio State while on a family vacation.

After a day working his way up from pancaking ninth-graders to holding his own against 11th-graders in one-on-one line drills, Jackson and his dad talked with a strength and conditioning coach about what he could do at his age to prepare for a D-I career.

Jackson was a big Dr. Pepper fan, his dad said, drinking two to three a day at the time.

But as he and his dad headed back to their car, Jackson said he was done drinking soda. His dad couldn’t believe it.

“If this is in the way of my dream, I don’t want it,” Jackson said.

Jackson committed to Ohio State, his second offer after Memphis, in the spring of his junior year.

He’d been a star throughout high school, winning a state championship as a junior at Episcopal High outside of Houston and being ranked the No. 1 overall 2021 prospect in football-frenzied Texas.

Melanie Jackson recalls her son calling home during his freshman year, baffled he wasn’t going to play in games immediately, at least not on offense. He couldn’t believe he was benched when teammates he thought were less talented received playing time.

“Well, prove it,” his parents would tell him. “If you say that you’re better than someone when you’re on the field, you have to show it. The coaches will see it. The coaches are looking. They’re looking for you to be great.”

By the next fall, Jackson was a big fish. He started 26 games at left guard for the Buckeyes between 2022 and 2023, earning first-team All-Big Ten honors after both seasons.

He considered leaving after 2023 to turn pro, but he still hadn’t achieved one of the goals he’d laid out for his father in middle school: Play for a national championship.

Midway through the 2024 season, though, that goal was in jeopardy as two Ohio State offensive linemen suffered injuries.

Sure enough, Jackson called his parents after a meeting with head coach Ryan Day and offensive line coach Justin Frye. They asked him if he’d move to left tackle, laying out why it was best for the team.

“That was a long phone call,” Todd Jackson said with a chuckle.

He prompted his son to think about the goals he’d set when returning to Ohio State that season.

Would they be achievable if Jackson said no to his coaches and the team was forced to play a third-string tackle?

The next day, Jackson told his coaches he’d make the move. He wanted to do what was best for the team.

“There’s 11 guys on the field, everyone with a unique responsibility, yet everyone needs to do their job for a play to work,” Jackson said. “Especially offensive line. That’s about as team as team gets.”

In his first game at left tackle for the Buckeyes, Jackson faced off against Penn State’s Abdul Carter, who would later be drafted No. 3 overall.

After the game, Jackson met with his parents outside the locker room, as he always did. He felt good about his performance but was happy he’d move back to guard.

“Oh no,” Todd Jackson said to his son with a smile. “You are playing tackle for the rest of the year.”

Jackson did, making a 10-game move as the Buckeyes went on to win the national championship. He was named an All-American at left tackle by three different outlets.

He has the athletic ability, and he quickly picked up what Kelly admitted is a hard offense to learn.

Maybe most important: “[Jackson] doesn’t talk too much as a rookie, which is a good thing,” Kelly said. “He refills the snacks. He does all the good things that you want rookies to do. He’s great.”

Jackson was thrown into the starting offensive line during organized team activities in the spring, and by training camp in late July, the full group of left tackle Christian Darrisaw, Jackson, Kelly, right guard Will Fries and right tackle Brian O’Neill was regularly practicing together.

Jackson’s linemates, two other first-round picks among them, are familiar with the challenges of transitioning from college to the pros, even coming from a program like Ohio State.

Faster pace. A need for cleaner, tighter hand placement. Going against defenders who’ve been in the league half your life and have moves to defeat any block, like teammate Jonathan Allen’s hump move.

Vikings offensive line coach Chris Kuper said he saw Jackson start to settle in after a full week of training camp.

By Week 4, when the Patriots visited for joint practices, Jackson was pancaking multiple defenders downfield while running back Aaron Jones broke away on a long rush.

Kuper loved it, as did many of Jackson’s teammates, including McCarthy.

“You know, us Michigan guys, we get a little skeptical of the mentality and tough-guyness of Ohio State, but he absolutely proved it,” McCarthy ribbed the next day. “It was a sight to see, and I just loved how fired up he got after that, too.”

But even relishing the highs of that day at practice, Jackson left the field telling reporters he still has a lot to improve.

“He always sees what he can do better, and as a mom, I’m good with that,” Melanie Jackson said. “I always want him working, but I also want him to realize, ‘You are doing it at the highest level. Not only that, but you were picked in the first round of the draft.’”

As she recounted draft night, it reminded her of something she’d seen years ago written on her son’s mirror in their house.

Jackson would write goals on the mirror, his dad said, both weekly ones and more long term. The goals he’d “build his life on,” his mom said.

This particular note was more a mantra than a goal. Maybe a manifestation. Proof, at the very least, that Jackson’s always been pushing himself down a path toward getting to yell “I am a Viking” in his living room.

“I am already great,” the note on the mirror read.