TEMPE, Ariz. -- The moment Arizona Cardinals left tackle Paris Johnson Jr. saw running back Emari Demercado let the football go before crossing the goal line in Week 5 against the Tennessee Titans, Johnson knew he had to get to Demercado as quickly as possible.
Johnson knew the whole stadium, the whole league and, really, the whole football world would see that play come across their screens, and he wanted to be one of the first voices Demercado heard.
So, the 6-foot-6, 325-pound Johnson put his arm around the 5-foot-9, 215-pound Demercado on the sideline and started talking.
"You're a professional," Johnson told him.
"You've made a lot of plays for us," Johnson said.
"This is what you do and the frequency at what you do it every time you touch the ball is different than anybody I've ever seen," Johnson continued.
Johnson didn't stop, reassuring Demercado that no one was mad, no one was upset, and everyone still believed in him.
"I just knew in that moment, I can only imagine what he's thinking about," Johnson told ESPN. "So, I'm like, before he has any inner thoughts, I want to be his inner thoughts, just in case."
It instantly helped Demercado.
"It is easy to just point fingers," Demercado said. "When you're genuine to people and you have people that genuinely care for you, definitely in a moment like that, it's really huge. I know that he has my back.
"That's a moment I'll never forget."
Paris Johnson Jr. came over to console Emari Demercado right after his costly fumble at the goal line:
— Blake Niemann (@Blakes_Take2) October 6, 2025
"I wanted to be one of the first people to find him on the sideline...Make sure he's not catching looks and stares and people mumbling...I didn't want him to hear any of that." https://t.co/z3VsDonIBs pic.twitter.com/ia6yWWqQAc
This is who Johnson has become in less than three seasons: a 24-year-old with the maturity of a 10-year vet. It has helped him become a leader in a locker room chock full of veterans.
It helps that they've given him the green light to speak up. Johnson, who's been intentional and methodical with his approach to leading, has run with it. That interaction with Demercado was just a snippet.
What's allowed Johnson to become such a leader at a young age -- and before hitting his second contract -- has to do with more than just talking. It is, as Johnson's Cardinals and Ohio State offensive line coach Justin Frye called it, Johnson's "book of work."
"Players know," Frye said. "He has the bravado and the juice and the voice that when he does say something or speak, there are sound waves behind it that are powerful."
Cardinals third-year offensive coordinator Drew Petzing remembered a quote that Cleveland Browns coach Kevin Stefanski would say that came from his dad, Ed, the former Philadelphia 76ers general manager: "Players like good players."
Midway through Johnson's third NFL season, which also happens to be the first time he has played the same position two years in a row since high school, he already has established that he's good, with great around the corner.
Others see it in him. The elder statesman of the Cardinals' offensive line room, 14-year vet Kelvin Beachum, already can already tell that Johnson has all the traits of a franchise left tackle.
"He's taking those steps to put himself in that conversation and also put himself in the conversation across the National Football League based off of what I see," Beachum told ESPN.
But Johnson wants more.
He wants to be elite. Being a presence in the locker room is one piece of that puzzle. Another, Johnson understands, is being consistent on the field.
"I know I have the talent, that's why I'm here," Johnson said. "I have the skill set, I know I have the motor, I know I have the mindset for violence. I know I have that, but it's really just efficiency, which is going to allow you to be more consistent.
"The more efficient you are, the more it's easier to be consistent and repeat it over and over again."
And that, Johnson believes, will help him eventually become elite. And with that, comes the spoils. And, he hopes, the riches.
Johnson makes no bones about it: He wants to be the first $40 million left tackle.
"When I'm in the huddle, I'm about to show why I'm a $40 million man," Johnson said. "My mindset is when I attack the field is that I need to be so dominant, consistent and efficient every play because that's what a $40 million man looks like."
BEING A $40 MILLION left tackle is as much a mindset as it is anything else to Johnson.
It drives him every day, but it doesn't consume him. He's not waking up every morning thinking, "I just got to get this money." To him, the money is the product of being elite.
"That's kind of what comes with being one of the best left tackles in the game," he said.
Johnson has watched pass rushers get paid handsomely over the past year. Five earn more than $30 million per year. Two -- Green Bay's Micah Parsons and Cleveland's Myles Garrett -- make more than $40 million per year in deals signed since March.
"Defensive ends are making $40 million a year, and you're going to need $40 million people to block them," Johnson said. "...When I watch my tape and it's not looking like a $40 million-a-year man, then I need to get back to my fundamentals. I need to get back to this. I need to get back to that."
For now, there isn't a tackle who's close to that.
Chargers left tackle Rashawn Slater has the highest annual salary among tackles in the NFL at $28.5 million. Tampa Bay's Tristan Wirfs follows at $28.125 million and Detroit's Penei Sewell comes in at $28 million.
As a first-round pick, Johnson can negotiate a new deal after this season.
"What happens after the year is what happens," he said. "That's between God, that's between [general manager] Monti [Ossenfort], that's between J.G. [coach Jonathan Gannon], and I'm not even worried about all that.
"That doesn't influence how I attack any play, but it's a mindset."
Besides quarterbacks, left tackles are among the foundational positions for every organization. For years, protecting a quarterback's blindside was considered a badge of honor for left tackles as the league has become more pass-friendly and edge rushers have gotten quicker, faster and better.
However, they haven't been as busy as right tackles this season -- a sign that pass rushers know to stay away from them. Heading into Week 13, the 15 defensive players with seven or more sacks this season have rushed the passer on the left side of offensive lines 625 fewer times than the right side, according to ESPN Research. And despite fewer opportunities on the left side as opposed to the right, those pass rushers are getting to the quarterback more on the left side than on the right, with a sack rate on left side rushes of 3.6 percent, compared to 3.3 percent on the right.
"I love having Paris on my blind side," quarterback Kyler Murray said. "I think it's funny you ask because he doesn't get the notoriety I feel like he will not necessarily deserve yet, but I think he'll get there.
"I think he can definitely be the best tackle in the league. Got the traits to be, for sure. I think, again, that just comes with growth, confidence and going out there and doing it, but yeah, man, I think people will soon realize what he's capable of."
And for that, left tackles are paid accordingly.
Johnson believes he's ready to be that kind of foundational player for the Cardinals. And he's not the only one.
Petzing knows a foundational tackle when he sees one. He said it's someone he can put on an island and not worry about the rest of the game. Petzing was a football operations intern in 2013 with the Browns when left tackle Joe Thomas was in the midst of his Hall of Fame career. The Browns, Petzing said, didn't care who was coming off the edge on Thomas' side. They didn't game-plan for it. They knew Thomas had it covered.
"You just knew that you were going to win that matchup more than you lost it at a level that nobody else could," Petzing said. "I think that's what elite tackle play looks like."
It's just too early to call Johnson elite, said LeCharles Bentley, a former six-year NFL offensive lineman who trains Johnson in the offseason. And that's not an insult, Bentley emphasizes. To Bentley, the word "elite" means the all-time greats -- the Pro Bowlers and the Hall of Famers.
"He's not elite right now," he said. "That's rare air that we're talking about. And the guy that's played two years in the league? Not yet, man. Not yet.
"I think we throw that word special and elite around a lot. We get a little loose with it. But does he have the potential? Yes. Is he there yet? No, because the part of being elite is consistency and that's the challenge of this game."
WHEN RIGHT GUARD Will Hernandez tore an ACL in Week 5 last season, the offensive line's Thursday night dinners needed a new home.
Johnson volunteered to host.
But first, he had to go shopping. He had only four forks, four knives and four plates for himself and his fiancée. In just four days, Johnson had to prepare his home to welcome about a dozen of his largest, hungriest teammates and learn how to be a host.
It was a no-brainer for Johnson to offer his home for the dinners, but it was a pivotal moment in his journey to being a leader.
"I feel like then it kind of was the beginning of me leading more off the field instead of just going to somebody else's house," Johnson said.
Until that point, Johnson dabbled in speaking up and taking on more of a leadership role within the offensive line room.
He was already established as a hype guy on game day. Unless he was talking to his fellow offensive linemen or his position coaches, Johnson didn't talk to anyone else on the team until it was time to jump in the middle of the pregame huddle, yell, grab a facemask and tell his teammates, "It's time to punch a hole through someone."
He knew, though, that being a true locker room leader was more than that.
With D.J. Humphries, Arizona's first-round pick in 2015 who spent the majority of his 100 starts at left tackle and was an outspoken leader in the offensive line room, no longer on the team, Johnson saw an opportunity to use his voice last season.
So, he experimented with being more vocal in the weight room, Brown said, and set out to talk to his teammates outside of the pregame hype fest. Brown noticed Johnson spending time with some of Arizona's higher draft picks because he knew first-hand what they were going through.
Johnson's goal was to see how they reacted. Talking to a teammate is one thing, Johnson said. He knew if they responded, that meant he was getting through to them.
"I wanted to get complete buy-in from the inside," he said. "I wanted to be part of the inside of the room."
It helped that he played every snap as a rookie and every snap before he got hurt after 14 games last season. Having that book of work, that foundation, that experience gave him the confidence to start speaking up.
"It's one of those things that's earned and he's earning it and actively earning it and continuing to do so," right tackle Jonah Williams said.
Frye, who coached Johnson at Ohio State and recruited him while at UCLA, taught Johnson a valuable lesson in leadership: "Some people need salt; some people need some sugar."
In the NFL, that has translated to Johnson figuring out that he needs to talk to center Hjalte Froholdt differently than he talks to Brown.
"He's embraced it," left guard Evan Brown said. "And that's just who he is. You always want guys to be themselves and when everybody's themselves, you bring out the best of everybody."
Johnson's the kind of leader whom Beachum has seen before, comparing him to longtime Pittsburgh Steelers center Maurkice Pouncey, who became a foundational piece of Pittsburgh's offensive line room because of his voice and talent.
Age is just a number, the 36-year-old Beachum said.
Johnson is someone who enjoys individual conversations, pulling a teammate to the side to offer some advice or constructive criticism, and he has a vision for who he wants to be on and off the field.
"It's sort of trying to lead people from where they're at to where I want to see them be," Johnson said. "But in a way, that where it's seen out of love. I think people move different when they know it's out of love.
"The tone and the passion might not sound like it's out of love, but I built the connection with you to know that I truly want to see [you] be the best version of yourself, because I think when you shine, makes everybody else work."