They don’t make them like Jeff Van Note anymore.
When you look at the arc of his football life, it reads less like a modern athletic career and more like an old-fashioned American tall tale right up there with Paul Bunyan. He was a man who possessed the kind of quiet grit that built legacies without ever begging for, or needing, the spotlight.
On October 2, 2026, Jeff Van Note, a Kentucky Athletics Hall of Famer, a retired jersey honoree, and an Atlanta Falcons icon, died at 80.
According to his obituary,
he leaves behind his wife of nearly 60 years, Dee, and their three sons: Beau, Ben, and Blaine. He also leaves behind an enduring blueprint for what it means to be a teammate.
Long before he was an NFL Ironman, Van Note was just a kid from New Jersey who found his way to St. Joe Prep in Bardstown. He was an all-conference athlete in three sports before arriving in Lexington, but he was not guaranteed anything. He walked onto the Kentucky freshman team in 1965 as a fullback.
By the time he left in 1968, he had moved to defensive end, earned All-SEC second-team honors, and was named the team’s Most Valuable Senior.
But the story of Jeff Van Note truly became legendary when he arrived in the National Football League.
Selected in the 11th round of the 1969 NFL Draft by the Atlanta Falcons, Van Note was drafted as a linebacker. Much like his time at Kentucky, Van Note had to earn everything he got. Falcons head coach Norm Van Brocklin cut him. Then brought him back just so the rookie could collect a $2,000 active-roster bonus. Then cut him again.
“I think the old man liked that Jeff was Dutch, so he gave him a chance,” a teammate later remarked, according to John Turney.
Van Brocklin eventually made a decision that altered NFL history. Once again Van Note would be asked to move. He was now going to be playing center. Despite having zero experience at the position, Van Note added weight and won the starting job in 1970.
He didn’t give it back for 16 years.
In a sport defined by violence and attrition, in a time when football’s rules weren’t designed to avoid CTE, Van Note became a pillar of durability. Over an 18-season career, the ninth-longest tenure with a single team in NFL history, he played in 246 games for the Falcons.
He would only miss 4 games.
He was named to six Pro Bowls, earned All-Pro honors twice, and became the emotional anchor of the Atlanta franchise.
When the Falcons celebrated their 25th Anniversary in 1991, the fans voted for the 11th-round converted center who never quit to be their favorite player.
But Van Note’s connection to football didn’t end when he hung up his cleats.
He transitioned into the broadcast booth, becoming a beloved voice for both the Falcons and Kentucky. He was even an honorary captain for the 2018 South Carolina game. In an interesting twist, The LetterWinner Pod noted that game he stood beside C.J. Conrad, who a few games later would catch a game-winning touchdown against Missouri.
That would be the last Kentucky game-winner until Willie Rodriguez last week.
From 1994 to 2001, he served as the color analyst for the UK Radio Network, bringing his signature blend of deep football intellect and warm humility to the Big Blue Nation. If you were around to listen to him call games, he knew what to say and when to say it.
“I was so fortunate that my first broadcast partner on the UK Network was ‘Noter’,” said play-by-play announcer Tom Leach. “He was an elite analyst but was even more humble than he was talented in that role. Jeff aspired only to be a great teammate, but he was an All-Pro for our crew just like he was for the Falcons. He dearly loved his time at UK and his role on the UK Network. I’ll miss his friendship and his stories and his kindness.”
That quote perfectly encapsulates what nearly everyone remembers about the man. Whether he was battling in the SEC trenches, anchoring an NFL offensive line for nearly two decades, or breaking down a Saturday afternoon broadcast, Jeff Van Note never sought to elevate himself above the group. He aspired only to be a great teammate. He wanted to lift everyone up around him.
I can firmly say it certainly looks like he succeeded.
Rest in peace.
