Donald bounced and sipped and hugged along the
route, his gold chain and diamond-studded “99” pendant
f lopping from neck to chin. So much had aligned to make
the party possible. Stay in the moment, he reminded
himself. He wished to remember the details of that
day forever, so he waved away potential distractions
such as his future, the subject of an endless discussion.
Retire or return?
He was certain of only one thing that afternoon, a
private tradition of sorts he planned to show a wider
audience. “I get a little tipsy and take my shirt off,” he
says. “That’s what I do.”
On Feb. 16, three days after the Rams’ victory in
Super Bowl LVI, Donald wore a black T-shirt that wasn’t
tight and yet somehow revealed all eight of his abs.
Still, if anyone missed them, Donald soon provided an
unobstructed view, standing atop one bus as it wound
down Figueroa and, as promised, tugging the tee off
over his head.
SPORTS
ILLUSTRATED
SI.COM
APRIL 2022
23The championship parade
covered only 1.1 miles.
But as Aaron Donald
danced, drank, roared, blew
kisses and flexed his cartoonish
muscles, his mind drifted
beyond the raucous celebration.
As thousands screamed and
chanted at the six double-
decker buses carrying the
jovial superstar and his Rams
teammates, they rolled away
from the Shrine Auditorium in
downtown Los Angeles, snaking
along Figueroa Street,
inching toward the Coliseum.