Unable to afford trips to Louisville on his $11-an-hour salary, Mauldin III held viewing parties when the college team played on television. In a game against Kentucky, Mauldin delivered a powerful hit in punt coverage. Watching along with Mauldin III, some relatives gasped. You used to hit like that in Pop Warner, they said.

“It’s in the blood,” Mauldin III said, “but it’s all him.”

About three and a half hours before kickoff last Sunday, Mauldin III and friends and family, extended and immediate, were encamped in the D Lot for a proper tailgate. The sun’s rays blasted through a nearby canopy as hot links, chicken and carne asada sizzled on the grill. In the ocean of silver and black, Mauldin III spotted two Jets fans wandering past. He waved them over.

“That’s my son,” he said, pointing to his jersey. “Lorenzo. Lorenzo Mauldin. He got hurt in the first game.”

Nodding in recognition, they smiled and high-fived Mauldin III, who demanded they take a photo together.

Eventually, everyone headed to the seats in Section 247, where they watched Mauldin play 17 snaps across defense and special teams in the Jets’ 34-20 loss. He contributed one tackle, hit the quarterback once and was called for a penalty. It was not his worst game. It was not his best game. It did not matter.

“We came out with a loss,” Mauldin said, “but I got something good out of visiting Oakland.”

Standing by the team buses afterward, Mauldin III just grinned.

“Man,” he said. “That was awesome.”

All around him, the family mingled. In the middle of the bunch stood Mauldin. Even when Cunningham or Hester or others attended his games in high school or college, Mauldin was aware of his otherness, how his teammates would meet with their families while he would not.