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Ex-Raiders WR Returns to Packers Amid Injuries: “I Just Want to Come Back to the Packers” — And It Landed Loud

GREEN BAY — The scoreboard against the Jets wasn’t pretty, but the real headache for the Packers sits in the wide receiver room: Jayden Reed’s foot, Dontayvion Wicks’ calf, Romeo Doubs leaving practice early, and rookie Savion Williams also banged up. In that context, Green Bay turned the emergency key and brought back wide receiver Kawaan Baker to patch depth and keep camp on schedule.

Baker isn’t a stranger in Titletown. A 2021 seventh-round pick, he spent a brief stint on the Packers’ practice squad in 2022 before bouncing around a few stops. This time, his immediate mission isn’t flashy: plug into special teams, run full drills for the QB2–QB3 group, and be ready if he’s tossed into a nickel or two-minute window during the preseason.

“We need someone who can step into the huddle right now,” a Packers offensive assistant said succinctly. “This week is about preserving the structure of practice—hit the route landmarks, keep consistent tempo, and clean assignments. Those things move the whole team forward.”

On the practice field, Baker tapes a shoulder, pulls on his gloves, and lines up with the second wave of receivers. There’s a lived-in feel to his route work: tidy stems, low hips, and a ‘violent’ break point to create separation at 6–10 yards. He may not deliver instant ‘wow’ plays, but he’s the type who keeps practice from breaking rhythm—a quiet win when the depth chart is thinned out.

Baker knows exactly where he stands. Asked about looping back to Titletown, he answered without a wasted beat:

I just want to come back to the Packers and put everything I have into it. When the Packers are in a tough spot, I swear I’ll give my all. I know who I am and what this team needs right now: run the right routes, catch the next ball, and work on special teams like it’s my last snap.”

That promise isn’t a grand emotional appeal; it taps into the practical heartbeat of August: readiness and reliability. On a roster short of healthy bodies, the value of a receiver who knows the playbook, can play gunner/return roles with “safe hands,” and holds onto technical details period after period can’t be overstated.

Inside the meeting room, Baker’s role is drawn clearly:

  • Priority 1: Special teams. Gunner/punt units, setting the edge, and disciplined lane integrity.

  • Priority 2: Drill receiver. Ensuring quarterbacks can rep full-field concepts (flood, dagger, spacing), especially while Jordan Love recovers and Malik Willis/Sean Clifford shoulder more throws.

  • Priority 3: Situational offense. In specific down-and-distance (3rd & medium), Baker could get looks at slot/field Z on a few baked-in calls (mesh/drive) to test real-time timing.

  • The road to the 53-man roster is still a steep climb. As Reed, Wicks, Doubs, and Williams return, competition at WR5/WR6 will sharpen—special teams value matters more than the August box score. But the practice squad path is very much alive for a “pro’s pro” type: diligent, fast-learning, and a stabilizer in a bruised position group.

    From the coaching perspective, bringing Baker back isn’t a proclamation about reinventing the receiver room; it’s an antibiotic dose to get through a chaotic week: preserve practice structure, fairly evaluate the backup quarterbacks, and avoid torching the install just because bodies are scarce. If Baker strings together 2–3 on-time catches in the next preseason game—plus a few clean special-teams snaps—he can write another chapter to this Green Bay reunion: not loud, but solid.

    In Titletown, they still believe “Day-3/waiver-wire” stories can bloom with discipline and grit. This time, amid injuries and a sweaty August, Kawaan Baker is choosing to say little and do more—letting his own vow ring out with every practice horn: give everything, right when the team needs it most.

    Father of Packers Rookie DT shocks everyone by declaring he will quit his job and live off his son — his words leave the room silent
    Green Bay, WI — October 7, 2025. In the Lambeau Field press room, a man with work-hardened hands looked straight into the lens, his voice low but resolute:“Why should I keep working when I can live off my son? I just want to say one thing: ‘Thank you, son — from now on your father will live off you.’” He paused for half a beat and smiled. “I’m saying it half-jokingly. I’ve worked night shifts my whole life, some months counting every dollar to pay the power bill. Today, when my son sent 100% of his first month’s salary to our family, it felt like we finally rounded a long, hard bend. ‘Live off my son’ is my way of saying pride, and of setting down old burdens.”Beside him, the rookie nodded gently. Per a plan discussed with his advisors, starting next month 50% of his salary will go home on a regular schedule — the rest will be split among long-term savings, a small fund for his old school, and careful investments. “Careers can be short or long, but gratitude to our parents can’t wait,” he said, just loud enough for the room to hear. Outside, the “Titletown” signage shimmered in the morning haze. For a young defensive tackle fighting his way into the Packers’ rotation, everything moved fast: signing as a UDFA after the Draft, grinding through camp, and then making the 53-man roster right before the season — milestones most players only dare to dream about. (It also extends the franchise’s streak to 21 straight seasons with at least one UDFA on the Week 1 roster.) That’s why this story goes well beyond a bank transfer. It’s a message about discipline, gratitude, and grit. A team spokesperson put it simply: “We respect any decision that puts family first — as long as the player matches it with professionalism every day.” On the low risers of the press room, a few reporters nodded: it’s rare to see a rookie choose to “speak with his wallet” in his very first month. And then, at the heart of this story — like the moment a name finally gets inked onto the lineup — that rookie is Nazir Stackhouse: DT #93 of the Green Bay Packers, undrafted in 2025, who quite literally stitched his name onto a first-team jersey. Back at the podium, the father — still wearing a faded ball cap — spoke again, slower this time, clearer:“I’m not bragging. I’ve patched roads, hauled loads; some days my hands cracked and bled. We ate lean so our son could chase football. Today I say ‘live off my son’ because, for the first time, I feel I can breathe. Thank you, son, for not giving up.”Then he turned to his boy, a hint of mischief in his voice: “As for me… tomorrow I’ll still work half a day. The other half, I’ll be home grilling for the neighbors.” A quick hug closed the presser. Shutters clicked. The rookie smiled and tugged up the strap of his practice backpack: “On the field, this is only the beginning,” he said. In Green Bay — where the Lombardi name is heritage — a rookie’s anchor doesn’t always start in a thick playbook; sometimes it begins with an envelope sent home and a single sentence that makes a crowded room go quiet.