Jahmyr Gibbs and Tashard Choice have an unbreakable friendship from Georgia Tech to the Detroit Lions.

Jahmyr Gibbs and Tashard Choice share a bond that defies the standard player-coach relationship, a rare brotherhood forged not through convenience but through conviction. Their connection began quietly at Georgia Tech, where a teenage Gibbs was just beginning to blossom into the electric running back the world would eventually recognize, and Choice, a former NFL back himself, was serving as the Yellow Jackets’ running backs coach. What started as a mentorship quickly grew into something deeper—a shared sense of purpose, mutual loyalty, and a familial trust that has only strengthened with time and success. Now reunited with the Detroit Lions, their journey feels like fate catching up to a story that was always meant to be told together.

Gibbs arrived at Georgia Tech in 2020 with high expectations, having been one of the most sought-after recruits in the country. A four-star recruit from Dalton, Georgia, his high school highlights were full of explosive runs, quick cuts, and breakaway speed. Still, joining a Power Five program during a pandemic year, in a system not particularly known for producing marquee running backs at the time, came with challenges. That’s where Tashard Choice came in—not only to refine Gibbs’ physical talent but to offer the type of unwavering support that can change a player’s life.

Choice, himself a Georgia Tech alum and former NFL running back with stints at Dallas, Buffalo, and Indianapolis, saw something special in Gibbs immediately. He knew Gibbs didn’t just have raw talent—he had vision, patience, the kind of twitchy athleticism you can’t teach, and, most importantly, an insatiable drive. But what impressed Choice the most wasn’t what Gibbs did on the field—it was how the young man carried himself off it. Quiet, observant, and respectful, Gibbs carried a chip on his shoulder despite his accolades. He wasn’t looking for fame or clout. He wanted greatness.

Their early sessions were filled with repetition, film study, and trust-building. Choice didn’t believe in just handing down instruction. He believed in understanding his players—what motivated them, what scared them, what kept them up at night. For Gibbs, it was simple. He wanted to make his family proud, particularly his grandfather, who played a big role in raising him. Choice, understanding the weight of that pressure, never let Gibbs feel alone in it. He became a constant, not just in football but in life. Whether it was practice critiques, life advice, or just someone to talk to during long hours away from home, Choice was there.

By the time Gibbs was carving up ACC defenses as a freshman and a sophomore, the results were undeniable. His acceleration, versatility, and home-run ability made him a nightmare for defenders. Scouts were beginning to take notice, and whispers of the NFL weren’t far behind. But in 2021, a coaching change at Georgia Tech led Gibbs to make a difficult decision—transfer to Alabama to increase his exposure and compete at the highest level. The move made sense from a football standpoint. But it meant leaving behind the man who had been his biggest advocate.

Choice, who had moved on to become the running backs coach at USC and then Texas, never took the separation personally. In fact, he encouraged Gibbs to make the decision that would best set up his career. And while they were no longer on the same sideline, their communication never faltered. Late-night texts, FaceTime calls, film breakdowns—Choice remained in Gibbs’ ear, guiding him, believing in him.

At Alabama, Gibbs flourished under Nick Saban. His role expanded, his production exploded, and his draft stock skyrocketed. By the time the 2023 NFL Draft came around, he had solidified himself as one of the top backs in the class. When the Detroit Lions called his name with the 12th overall pick, it was a moment of validation not just for Gibbs, but for everyone who had walked alongside him—including Choice.

The twist of fate came soon after. During the offseason, the Lions announced the hiring of Tashard Choice as an offensive assistant. The reunion was surreal. For both men, it felt like the universe putting the pieces back together. Gibbs, now a professional, was getting his coach and mentor back. Choice, returning to the NFL in a coaching capacity, was rejoining the player who best embodied everything he stood for.

In the Lions’ locker room, the dynamic between the two remains deeply respectful but profoundly close. Gibbs still refers to Choice as “Coach,” but there’s a knowing smile behind it. The mentorship has evolved into a partnership. Choice isn’t just teaching Gibbs anymore—he’s collaborating with him, helping him refine the nuances of his game as the NFL’s speed and complexity increase.

Gibbs, for his part, credits Choice with keeping him grounded during the often overwhelming transition from college to the pros. The NFL can be a whirlwind for any rookie: new systems, high expectations, media scrutiny, financial pressure. But having someone like Choice in the building—someone who knows not just the game but him—makes all the difference. In moments of doubt, he leans on Choice. In moments of triumph, he celebrates with him. There’s a level of understanding there that even teammates or family sometimes can’t replicate.

Their bond is obvious to others within the organization. Teammates speak of their near-telepathic communication, of how Gibbs lights up when Choice enters the room. Coaches recognize the impact Choice has not just on Gibbs, but on the entire running back group. His energy, experience, and authenticity make him a natural leader. But his relationship with Gibbs is something separate, something sacred.

The results on the field are beginning to reflect that connection. In his rookie season, Gibbs showcased the traits that made him a first-round pick: the burst, the vision, the ability to turn a five-yard swing pass into a fifty-yard gain. But it’s the finer points—pass protection, reading fronts, understanding tempo—that have taken his game to another level. And that evolution, Gibbs will tell you, is directly tied to the quiet hours spent with Choice, breaking down film, dissecting defenses, and talking about the “why” behind every decision.

Beyond football, the relationship between Gibbs and Choice serves as a model for what player development can look like when done right. In a business often defined by transactions and short-term gains, theirs is a story of patience, loyalty, and long-term investment. Choice never saw Gibbs as just another athlete to develop—he saw him as a person to believe in. And Gibbs, in turn, never took that belief for granted.

It’s rare to see such a strong emotional tether in professional sports, especially in a league as cutthroat as the NFL. But for Gibbs and Choice, the connection has only deepened with each chapter. They’ve been through coaching changes, cross-country moves, and the relentless march of expectations, but the core remains unchanged. They’re in this together—not just as player and coach, but as brothers in arms.

Looking ahead, the future for both men is filled with promise. Gibbs is on a trajectory that could make him one of the league’s most dynamic backs, a true offensive weapon who can shift the balance of games. And Choice, whose coaching career is gaining momentum, looks every bit the rising star in the league’s coaching ranks. Whether their paths continue to align in Detroit or diverge down the line, their bond will endure.

In a sport defined by physicality and strategy, it’s easy to overlook the human connections that fuel greatness. But for those paying attention, the story of Jahmyr Gibbs and Tashard Choice is a reminder that behind every highlight reel and box score is a relationship that helped make it possible. It’s a testament to the power of mentorship, the strength of belief, and the beauty of finding someone who sees you—not just as you are, but as you could be.

Years from now, when both men reflect on their careers—Gibbs perhaps as a Pro Bowler or All-Pro, and Choice as a head coach or offensive coordinator—they’ll likely smile at the memories of Georgia Tech, of early morning workouts, of texts exchanged during late-night doubts, of the first touchdown in the NFL, and the quiet nods exchanged on the sideline that said everything without saying a word.

They’ll remember not just what they achieved, but how they achieved it—together. And in a league where so much is fleeting, that kind of bond is not just rare. It’s unbreakable.