FOXBOROUGH, Mass. — John Simon dons the same pads, sports the same jersey and pulls into the same parking lot to start his work day. But compared to most teammates, the 28-year-old defensive end is a rare breed.

Simon, signed by New England in late September, is among the few Patriots veterans who have never played in a Super Bowl. Thirteen are scattered across the 53-man roster. Exclude backup quarterback Brian Hoyer – who was active for last February’s title loss to the Eagles but didn’t take a snap – and the group dwindles to a dozen.

Its members are Simon, tight end Stephen Anderson, offensive tackle Trent Brown, defensive linemen Adrian Clayborn, Keionta Davis, Ufomba Kamalu, Derek Rivers and Danny Shelton, offensive guard James Ferentz, defensive backs Jason McCourty and Obi Melifonwu, and wide receiver Cordarrelle Patterson.

One more win and most would become just like the rest of their ring-bearing teammates.

But days out from the AFC championship game, Simon didn’t want to discuss the Super Bowl or its potential inspiration of his childhood dreams. Commenting on the future or past would violate the one-day-at-a-time code that shapes New England’s culture and – to a degree – its media relations policies. But if Simon must stray from the present, he’ll take everyone else with him and use them as a shield.

Yes, the veteran admits, he dreamed of playing in the Super Bowl as a kid. But …

“I think everyone’s thought of that at one time or another,” Simons said. “It’s why you play the game, to play in the big one.”

So what does he think that experience might feel like one day? To perform, compete, rush and tackle, with tens of millions of eyes watching around the globe as he fulfills that dream.

Simon politely throws up a stop sign: “Well, we’ve got to get there first. That’s the most important thing.”

One of Simon’s position mates, defensive end Adrian Clayborn, can better answer the unfinished question. Sort of.

Clayborn reached the Super Bowl two years ago with another franchise. He just happened to be injured at kickoff, then fell on the wrong side of the greatest comeback in the championship game’s history. Prior to the Super Bowl, Clayborn tore his biceps in the Falcons’ divisional-round win over Seattle, three weeks before New England stomped out their title hopes at the last possible moment, as it once did to the Seahawks.

At the infancy of his career, Clayborn had big dreams. His word of choice.

“When you get drafted, your goal is to play in the big game and make big plays in that game,” he said. “To do that … it’s probably the greatest feeling ever.”

Now at this point, just like Simon, Clayborn’s tunnel vision resurfaces. He won’t speak much more about the matter.

Reflecting earlier on New England’s beatdown of the Chargers last Sunday, a game in which he collected a sack of Philip Rivers, Clayborn calls the postgame stream of congratulation texts and calls he received “just standard stuff.” His family and friends universally, as if instructed by Coach Bill Belichick, already were looking ahead to Kansas City.

For Trent Brown, the win constituted his first playoff action since high school ball in Georgia. Those memories are fond, of course; crushing smaller opponents, paving the way for his hometown friends to compete for a trophy.

But his story does have a sour ending.

“We made it all the way to the state championship and lost,” Brown said.

That defeat, he said, motivates him in a small way to this day.

“I want that win this time,” he said.

Nothing is small, however, about what triumphing Sunday would mean to these men and the others like them.

Consider McCourty: a 10-year veteran well into the back end of his career who on cutdown day wasn’t sure he’d ever take a regular-season snap with his twin brother, Devin, and hadn’t made the playoffs until just weeks ago.

Or Ferentz: a recently promoted practice-squad offensive linemen who turns 30 in June with only a single playoff game under his belt.

Or Melifonwu: a lifelong Patriots fan who grew up 40 minutes from Gillette Stadium and hopped on their latest postseason ride in November after an unfortunate fallout in Oakland less than 18 months after he’d become a top-50 draft pick.

So far these players have said little about the prospect of playing in a Super Bowl, and don’t count on anything more until Sunday’s game is decided. But what they’ve shared is enough. Enough to understand exactly what’s at stake for them.

It’s a validation of their professional purpose, the triggering of euphoria and healing for old wounds and recent troubles. Even inside a locker room where championships have become old hat, the opportunity to lift the Lombardi is still everything and the only thing.

And the Patriots, thanks in part to those who have never known the feeling, are ready to reach out yet again.

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