Jaylen Brown has spent most of his Celtics career framed through big names, big stakes and a long arc of development that eventually produced championships and individual accolades. But when Brown was asked recently to identify the teammates who shaped him most, he didn’t reach for the obvious answers. He pointed to two role players from his earliest Boston years, Gerald Green and Jonas Jerebko, calling them two of the most influential teammates he’s had.
It’s a surprising pairing only if you forget what Brown walked into as a rookie. The 2016–17 Celtics were a veteran team with real expectations, and Brown, raw, young, and still learning NBA pacing, was trying to find footing inside a rotation that demanded discipline. Green and Jerebko weren’t franchise faces, but they were the type of veterans young players often remember most: consistent pros who set the daily standard without needing attention. Both were on that 2016–17 roster with Brown, living in the same practices, film sessions, and travel rhythm where habits are built.
Jaylen Brown says Gerald Green and Jonas Jerebko have been two of his most influential teammates throughout his career 🔥 pic.twitter.com/6VyolMN0mt
— White Noise Podcast w/Derrick White (@whitenoisepod_) December 20, 2025
Green’s influence makes sense when you look at what he represented. He was a pure bucket-getter by reputation, an athlete who could change the temperature of a gym with energy and confidence. For a rookie wing learning how to survive mistakes and keep shooting, being around a veteran who played freely mattered. Green’s career had already taught him that the league doesn’t reward hesitation, and that a role can change night to night without changing who you are as a professional. Brown, now an established star, is essentially describing the type of mentorship that helps a young player stop asking permission.
Jerebko’s impact is a different kind of lesson, and maybe the more Celtics-specific one. Coaches love players like Jerebko because they survive on the details: sprinting into screens, cutting at the right second, defending bigger bodies without drama, spacing correctly, and competing every day even when minutes aren’t guaranteed. For young players, that example can be more powerful than a speech. You learn what “being ready” actually looks like when a teammate lives it.
That’s what makes Brown’s answer revealing. It’s not nostalgia for the early years; it’s an acknowledgment of what actually builds careers. Superstars can teach you what greatness looks like. But the veterans at the margins, guys who hold the line in practice, who show you how to work when you’re not the headline, are often the ones who quietly shape your professional identity.
