Contact us
Back to All Posts

NFL star Woodson took a new wingman from Hudson under his wing, with private wine and a California reception, then went on to covering Super Bowl

Charles Woodson, the former Packers standout defender, was in the news by being at one of those see-and-be-seen parties for the Super Bowl, and he also has had a broadcasting role for such games. But little did you know, he has a Hudson connection.
A longtime Hudsonite, James Jones, not to be confused with the former Green Bay receiver by the same name, was the guest of honor at Woodson’s own private vinyard out in California a few years back. It seems they both have a passion for fine wine, (and not the kind you make after being called for pass interference), and Woodson was overtly friendly to Jones and seemed just like a regular guy, at a reception, for his new wine and not for a pass catch. It also helped that Jones is a veteran and Woodson wanted to honor that. The whole shebang got started when Jones’ mother, who still lives in Hudson and knows what her son likes, wrote to Woodson to see if he could be sent a bottle of the newly released stuff for his birthday present, since he also has a passion for his Packers. One thing led to another, and before long the correspondence had Jones boarding a flight for California, where Woodson teamed with those despicable Raiders to finish his career, (I’m guessing it helped that all his business deals originate in the same state). Jones, too, was a Raider, on one of those yesteryear successful hockey teams from Hudson. But moving ahead, mom was invited to the vinyard reception, too, and also gave glowing reviews.
When I first did this story, I was given a bottle of Woodson’s wine, (Jones got several), and it was great. But one remaining thing: I still have a photo of the two of you together, all decked out in suits at the reception, that I would like to give back, but Jones is a common name and I couldn’t locate you in the phone book, so if you read this, could you drop me a line?

Share the Post:

Related Posts

  • And musings moreover —– To skate or not to skate? Not on most Hudson streets and sidewalks, you don’t. Even though most users I’ve encountered have been courteous and safe — saying ‘on right’ as they go by on a fairly busy sidewalk, and not just barely edging past you — the city council in essance banned the usage last fall. I think this goes too far in what amounts to dare I say it, big brother-type stringency. I prefer a more ‘urban’ style ambiance, with a Twin Cities type of bustle.
Spring has past sprung, we’ve finally had some hotter weather, and a young man’s heart turns to thoughts of … e-cycling and skateboarding. In the last couple of weeks, you can see them again all around our sidewalks and byways, busy and not so busy city streets, burgeoning-in-length bike paths, and parking lots of all sizes. While I don’t necessarily want to go as far as skater boyz … Despite the fact that the city of Hudson, being the city of Hudson and all that entails, many months ago municipally moved to limit or outright outlaw on many or most...
Read More
  • And musings moreover —– Shoes and shirt are welcome, to be purchased along with other keepsakes at a new shop or worn in. At least soon while dining at new downtown Hudson eating opps. You don’t need an app, read on, as doors are flipped open … There are still other options and opportunities, after the Wild opted out as flipping goalies, with Filip, only worked for so long. (Not so big shoes to fill. Just flip-flops. See below and under The Headliner for posts on such sports bar shenanigans.) So for now, in a new post, we Rally In The Valley, with eight bands.
A door on the side of a downtown conglomerate of stores, the front not back door, has a sign telling delivery drivers to deposit items in back — but the sign is flipped upside down since the tape slipped. A blipped language I don’t speak. But that’s not the only thing that’s flipped in the downtown. Lots of stores are either open as we speak, or will be soon. We’re talking still in May, maybe, and mostly earlier than later. While we wait with baited breath for the full opening of Max’s Social House. And a pub or another hub...
Read More
  • And Musings moreover —– Nothing says Mother’s Day Beauty like a concrete culvert on the edge of your small yard, blocking the view of the flowers, as they start to bloom. To serve you better by (finally) getting at that drainage problem, and giving you instead, from your fave rocker, a whole buncha gray to look at, not RWB. But you can’t fight either city hall, or a utility company, or both. Basically buckthorn, either.
An elderly mom got an early Mother’s Day gift, courtesy of three entities who gave: Her a condo made-a stone-a, AT&T and a muddy spring. All combined to take her request for a properly drained stretch of slight ponding, a size of a grown corn stalk and about 30 feet long, between her walkout patio and the edge of the condo association land, where she has planted a few small sets of flowers at which to gaze as she passes away the last of her days, which one hopes are still many and not spent in a daze. The whole...
Read More
  • The Aves and the have nots. The fans cried foul, over too many goals and too few penalties. Putting a man in that box, so he could not fill the net, would help the Wild aplenty. (However wait, the Wild have now flipped it in game three by making a statement. But now their backs are up against the wall.) But spring temps hopefully will hold, and Saturday’s game three and its outdoor watch party held at home will hasten how soon we forget the Colorado debacle, and make it more like Dallas. Recently it’s been viewing from inside the sports bar the away games and in-arena ice of Colorado, amidst our own tundra and its just frozen flowers. Must suck also to be a retail manager and having to decide how many potted ones to put out.
The Wild in their series with The Aves, have generated more cuss words then goals — although there have been quite a few of those too — from those fans watching in Hudson sports bars. Nine and Five scored by the foes make Fourteen, and hey that could be a song title, although a little long — like all the remote slapshots the Wild has been accused of taking. Maybe less of a bust for beer sales. Shit, my team is falling behind further, so yes, I’ll take another. The nets are burning from pucks ripping through, just like your...
Read More
  • Earth Day? Spring warming up, or more cold? To change it up, spring training delivers a fastball? Or chill out, go officially fishing, although you might strike out? Or chill on the links with our Lynx, the most vital local pro sports team, as they advance to that dreaded Dallas, now land of the Stars and not that north kind. Our mom rules. Does she profit from cards, and go fish, though not poker face? For a few days, the sequence of events, one following another, then soon following another, dominates out calendar’s agendas. And my rambling writing, (which includes siding with Cinco.)
Earth Day came and evening went, the first trial. Our earth is still spinning. Spring also has unsprung, the second day. Flowers but also buckthorn grow. Renewal commences. May Day has passed into the past, the third trial. But regimes still falter and fall. And we harken to it, despite the prospect of potentially going fishless, on this differs-by-state opener. It was cold, to boot. Do trout like such water? They did on one side of the boat in Jesus’ time. — This is not the walleye they are known for, but otherwise the pick of the litter, for Cinco...
Read More
  • Iron Trump? Bring the frump? Or dump? Bump it up and do The Humpty Hump? Here is yet another song of a generation, yet another parody of Iron Man by Black Sabbath, (it might help to go through the original lyrics first), and it is Ozzy approved as he is one of our children of the grave, and as so is one of the allegedly foggy ones, (no I would not allege that!!)
This is my ode to a couple of old Geezers, as in Butler who wrote words like no other, and like the Foggy Geezer beer often on special, over at Casanova Historic Liquors in Hudson. In the style of Iron Man, by Black Sabbath Iron Trump Lyrics by Joe Winter Riffs by Tony He Owes Me? I am rustic man … I have a rusty plan … Has mad mind lost its way Dull forked tongue or things to say Bomb, make Iran pay Before leaving office or he’ll stay Mine is the Master Plan So mine the straits fast...
Read More
Scroll to Top