He Could Have Played on Thanksgiving — but This Packers Rookie Chose to Serve the Hungry Instead

DETROIT — As the Green Bay Packers prepared to take the field against their perennial NFC North rivals, the Detroit Lions, on a crisp Thanksgiving afternoon at Ford Field, the air buzzed with the familiar electricity of a holiday showdown. The Lions, hungry for revenge after a 27-13 drubbing in Week 1, boasted a raucous crowd of 65,000, many clad in Honolulu Blue and silver, waving foam turkeys in a nod to the league’s peculiar traditions. For the Packers, a victory here would not only solidify their grip on the division — trailing the surprising Chicago Bears by a game — but also extend their improbable three-year Thanksgiving winning streak.
Yet amid the pageantry and the prime-time stakes, one name was conspicuously absent from the Packers’ active roster, a decision that rippled through the locker room and beyond, leaving an indelible mark on a day meant for gratitude. Matthew Golden, the team’s first-round draft pick and a wide receiver who had electrified Lambeau Field with his blistering speed all season, was nowhere to be seen. No injury report explained his absence. Instead, Golden had chosen to spend the holiday not chasing passes from Jordan Love, but ladling gravy over plates of turkey and mashed potatoes for the homeless and underserved in downtown Milwaukee.
Golden, a 22-year-old from the steel-shadowed streets of Gary, Ind., where economic hardship has long cast a pall over football dreams, arrived in Green Bay last spring as the Packers’ beacon of the future. Selected 18th overall out of the University of Toledo, he quickly lived up to the hype: 42 catches for 682 yards and five touchdowns through 12 games, his 4.38-second 40-yard dash time translating into game-breaking plays that evoked memories of a young Sterling Sharpe. He was the spark in Green Bay’s high-octane offense, a unit that ranked third in the N.F.L. in scoring at 28.4 points per game. Teammates called him “Flash,” and analysts pegged him as a Pro Bowl lock by 2026.
But Golden’s story, it turns out, extends far beyond the end zone. Raised by a single mother who worked double shifts at a local diner, he grew up volunteering at neighborhood food pantries, a ritual that instilled in him a quiet conviction: Success, he often said in interviews, demands reciprocity. “Football gave me a way out,” Golden told Packers reporters after a September win over the Bears. “But I can’t forget where I came from. If I’m eating, everybody’s got to eat.”
That ethos came to a head this week. With the Packers nursing minor injuries across the roster — running back Josh Jacobs returning from a knee contusion, cornerback Keisean Nixon shaking off a stinger — Golden was cleared to play. His wrist, sore from a mid-October tweak against the Giants, had healed sufficiently for limited snaps. Yet when practice wrapped on Tuesday, Golden approached head coach Matt LaFleur in the shadowed corridors of the team’s headquarters, his helmet tucked under one arm like a shield he had no intention of wielding that day.
“Coach,” Golden said, according to LaFleur’s later recounting, “I need to sit this one out. Not for me — for them.” He was referring to the Milwaukee Homeless Veterans Initiative, a nonprofit he had quietly partnered with since training camp. The organization, which serves upward of 500 meals on major holidays, faced a shortfall this year after federal funding cuts bit into its budget. Golden, drawing from his own family’s brushes with food insecurity, had pledged to cover the gap personally — $15,000 from his rookie contract — but that wasn’t enough. He wanted to be there, sleeves rolled up, witnessing the impact.
LaFleur, a father of four whose own coaching philosophy emphasizes “pack mentality” over individual glory, paused. The decision carried risks: The Packers’ receiving corps, already thin without Golden’s speed to stretch the field, would lean heavily on veterans like Christian Watson and Dontayvion Wicks. A loss to the Lions — who entered the game 7-4 and licking their chops after a bye-week reset — could dent Green Bay’s playoff positioning. Yet LaFleur saw in Golden’s eyes the unyielding resolve of a man who had already conquered longer odds than a divisional tilt.
“Go,” LaFleur replied, clasping Golden’s shoulder. “And know this: You’re playing the most important game of your life today.”
Word of Golden’s choice spread like wildfire through the team bus en route to Detroit on Wednesday. Quarterback Jordan Love, who had developed an almost telepathic rapport with the rookie — their 51-yard touchdown connection the previous week still replayed endlessly on highlight reels — shook his head in quiet admiration. “Matty’s the real MVP,” Love said postgame, after the Packers eked out a 24-21 thriller, aided by a blocked field goal and a late interception from safety Xavier McKinney. “We won today, but he showed us what winning really looks like.”
The coach’s reaction, however, stunned the football world. In a league where holidays often blur into obligatory rituals — players shuttling between team feasts and family obligations, the specter of injury looming over every snap — LaFleur didn’t just approve Golden’s absence. He amplified it. Before boarding the flight home, LaFleur gathered the team for an impromptu huddle and announced that the Packers would match Golden’s donation, doubling it to $30,000 for the veterans’ initiative. More strikingly, he dedicated the win to Golden, inscribing the game ball with a simple message: “For the forgotten feast.”
Fans, scrolling through social media amid turkey-induced naps, were left reeling. Posts flooded X (formerly Twitter) and Instagram: “This is why we love the Packers — heart over helmet,” one supporter wrote, her message garnering 12,000 likes in hours. Another, a Lions fan conceding defeat graciously, added, “Hate to say it, but Green Bay’s got soul. Golden’s a legend already.” By evening, #GoldenThanksgiving trended nationwide, with celebrities from LeBron James to Megan Thee Stallion chiming in, the latter sharing a photo of her own holiday volunteer shift with the caption: “Learned from the best today.”
Back in Milwaukee, Golden spent his day amid the clamor of a community center gymnasium, transformed into a makeshift dining hall. He served portions to veterans — men and women whose service scars ran deeper than any turf burn — sharing stories of his draft-day call while wiping down tables. “This,” he said later, phone buzzing with notifications he ignored, “this is the playbook I grew up with.”
As the N.F.L. season hurtles toward its postseason crescendo, Golden’s absence from Ford Field serves as a poignant reminder: In a sport that glorifies the gridiron grind, true touchdowns are sometimes scored off the field. For the Packers, riding high at 8-3-1 after the victory, the lesson lingered. LaFleur, ever the tactician, summed it up in his Friday news conference: “We talk about building a legacy. Matthew just showed us it’s not measured in yards gained, but in lives touched.”
In a year when the league grapples with its own narratives of equity and empathy — from player-led social justice initiatives to debates over holiday scheduling — Golden’s quiet rebellion stands as a beacon. He could have played today. Instead, he fed a city. And in doing so, he redefined what it means to be thankful.