“So I go upstairs, put my bags down, come back down. We drive, and they’re like, ‘Can you run through the stoplight?’ They’re like, ‘Through the stop sign.’ I’m like, ‘Bro, what the hell?’ I’m like, ‘You about to get us arrested,’” Jared Verse chuckled, recounting his chaotic draft-day ride to meet the Rams’ brass. It’s the kind of story that feels ripped from a Seinfeld episode—a rookie’s whirlwind intro to Hollywood’s glitz, complete with a frantic dash up a staircase and a handshake with destiny. But for Verse, the real drama wasn’t off the field. It was the lack of drama once he and fellow rookie Braden Fiske started terrorizing quarterbacks. Together, they were the Rams’ answer to Shaq and Kobe in shoulder pads—a duo that turned “rookie wall” into a punchline.

Then came January 19, 2025. Picture Lambeau’s frozen tundra meets Philly’s gritty underbelly. Snow swirled, Saquon Barkley galloped for 205 yards, and the Rams’ Cinderella defense—already missing Aaron Donald—watched Fiske crumple after a first-quarter sack. The injury was subtle, almost dismissible. But like a flat tire on Route 66, it derailed everything.

Jared Verse reminisced about his and Fiske’s conversation before the 2024 draft during his May 9 interview on The Rich Eisen Show. “We talked about [it] all the time, ’cause at the end of the season, we just started hitting our stride to where we could look at each other and know what we wanted to do. Like, ‘hey, I’mma take this or you take this. I’mma cover you.’ And we didn’t even have to say words… we talked about, like, being on the same team and everything like that. We’re like, that’s not going to happen, though.” But it did happen.

“And the league let it happen. And I’m like, ‘Oh, this is bad for everybody. Like, if you couldn’t tell me, without Fiske, we not winning the Super Bowl. If you keep Fiske in that Eagles game, we winning that game, and then from there on it’s a walk,” Verse added. The stats back him up. Before Fiske’s exit, the Rams’ defense had already notched seven sacks against Jalen Hurts. But without their rookie anchor, Philly exploited the gap, edging L.A. 28–22. Meanwhile, Verse’s two sacks that day felt hollow.

The Rams had bet big on the FSU pair, trading up 13 spots to reunite them. It paid off: Fiske’s 8.5 sacks led the team, while Verse’s 52.5% True Pressure Rate trailed only Myles Garrett and Chris Jones. “They got better as the season went on. They’re grown men,” Coach Sean McVay said, echoing his mantra. But grown men aren’t immune to fate… Now, rewind to draft night.

Verse thought he’d just shake hands. Instead, McVay tossed him a phone: “Speak to your new teammate.” It was Fiske. Together, the ex-Seminoles became the NFL’s top rookie pass-rush tandem since 2018, blending chemistry and chaos. “I’m not going to make it easy on him,” Fiske said in November after winning Rookie of the Month. He wasn’t kidding. During a Week 9 sack fest, Verse joked about stealing credit: “Bro, get half of that!” Their synergy was instant. And the Divisional Round was supposed to be their coronation.

Instead, Fiske’s knee buckled mid-sack, and the Rams’ front crumbled like a stale pretzel. Philly’s O-line pounced, Barkley gashed them for two 60+ yard scores, and Matthew Stafford’s late rally fell short. “We got the job done,” Barkley shrugged postgame. For Verse, it was salt in the wound. The numbers screamed it: L.A.’s 16 playoff sacks set a record, but Fiske’s absence left them chasing ghosts.

The ripple effect of a rookie’s absence

Fiske’s offseason has been low-key—a “minor procedure,” rehab drills, and hopscotching past doubt. “It’s easier to make excuses instead of solutions,” he said in a Rams rehab video. But he’s already sprinting, his explosiveness intact. For Verse, that’s hope fuel. “We’re trying to lead this group to the Super Bowl. I think we’ve got the right pieces,” Fiske added. Meanwhile, McVay’s confidence hasn’t wavered.

“They’re going to be really vital pieces for us moving forward,” the coach said. And why not? The duo combined for 13 sacks, 21 tackles for loss, and a rookie wall they bulldozed like a Prius in a monster truck rally. Meanwhile, at 37, Matthew Stafford’s window is cracking. He’s “proud” but not content. Neither is Verse. But bright futures need healthy bodies.

The Rams’ 2025 blueprint mirrors the 2000 Ravens—young, hungry, and one piece away. But as The Wire’s Stringer Bell quipped, “Money be green? No, money be money.” Talent alone doesn’t win titles. Every NFL fairytale needs a villain. For Jared Verse, it’s not Philly or fate—it’s injury luck. But as Springsteen crooned, “You can’t start a fire without a spark.” The Rams’ spark is lit. Can they fan it into a blaze?