Half Man, Half Monster

I heard one of the Ravens’ guys go, “Oh, s***!” 

That’s when I knew it was bad.

You never want to hear an “Oh, s***!”

See, there’s always this constant noise in football stadiums. You can’t really hear it on TV, but when you’re at field level, there’s always a buzz. As a player, you get used to it. Then when somebody gets hurt — that buzz stops, and it’s like you hear 60,000 people holding their breath. 

That’s exactly what I heard Week 7 last year against Baltimore. I was trying to pull myself up off the ground, and everything went dead quiet. 

I couldn’t move my leg. I was crawling. 

I looked at my left leg and my foot was going in a direction I’d never seen before.

And then I heard somebody on Baltimore say, “Ohhhhh, s***.”

Next thing I know a trainer is telling me my ankle’s out and they have to put it back in. 

My head is spinning. Then I’m on a cart and I’m seeing all these guys come up to me.

And, man … they got this look in their eyes. 

These dudes were playing me hard as hell for four quarters and now they’re just looking at me with pity. Like this sadness in their faces.

I’m praying for you, bro.

Keep your head up.

I’m keeping you in my thoughts, dog.

I was hearing all this stuff but not really processing it. It was like an out-of-body experience.

I immediately thought about my pregnant wife, Mariah — our first child that was on the way. My teammates, everyone in the Bucs organization. I thought about Tampa, about my future. Getting hurt like that in a contract year, it’s a damn scary thing, man. And I felt like we had a really good team. I loved that group. And I knew having to watch from home was going to hurt so much. I think I took a moment to be angry, too. I’d had a tough year. Just felt like 2024 was against me for a bit. Some things kept going one way. And then we started the year and I was playing well, team was playing great. We had this energy about us. Finally felt like things were going the other way. And then just bam, season done. Fast as you can snap your fingers. Didn’t really feel fair. That’s football, though. That’s life. I get it. 

But if I’m being honest? When the cart pulled through the tunnel, when I knew how long the road was ahead of me….

Man, I just missed my dad.

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I always knew where my dad was at my games when I was little because I could hear him.

I started playing football when I was six, and I was pretty good. Can’t lie. I was a bit of a baller as a kid. They’d hand it off to me on some end-around or something, I’d break a tackle and just hit the sideline and I’d be gone gone. And as I’m running, I’d hear my dad. He’d almost be beside me. Just sprinting down the sidelines yelling, “THERE HE GOES! MY BOY! HALF MAN, HALF MONSTER! THE MANSTER!”

Oh, yeah, Dad is in the building.

It caught on, too. Everyone in the league kept calling me “The Manster.” Probably the coolest nickname I’ve ever had. Dad was my hype man. When I got older and started doing recruiting visits, we’d drive from Delaware to different schools. Eight hours to Ohio State, four hours to Virginia. We spent so much time in the car together. He’d take a few days off work to do it. Never complained. Always had my back. We’d have a blast in the car, just talking about whatever. Listening to sports talk radio. He loved those road trips. We both did.

The effort we put in together. I’ll never forget that.

He always believed that no matter what circumstances have brought you to where you are in life, it’s about what you do with the opportunity that is given to you. And after I got drafted, I remember he told me, “Chris, I know how hard you work. I’ve seen it your whole life. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be a champion. You’ve won at every level. You’re a winner. And you’re going to win in Tampa because of that.”

He believed.

Sometimes, man … that’s just all you need.

When we won the Super Bowl at home in Tampa, I’ll always remember seeing him on the field after the game. He had this big smile on his face, and I can still picture the moment right before we hugged. He was looking at me like, See…. I told you. I told you!!!!

That was my dad.

He passed on January 31, 2024. Just a few months after he was diagnosed with a rare type of cancer. It was advanced and pretty aggressive. He moved down from Philly to Orlando to spend more time in the sun. My brother and my sister and I were able to be with him toward the end. Those few months … it was just a lot. There was football and life and death and excitement and sadness all packed in together.

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about my dad, or where I don’t feel his impact on my life. 

I think that’s been even more true since I became a father. 

The injury last year was as hard on me mentally as it was physically. But one of the blessings of my time away was being home with Mariah. She was nearly eight months pregnant when I got hurt and all of a sudden she had not just herself and the baby to care for, but me as well. I could barely move for a few weeks after surgery, and she was incredible. I felt bad that she had to do so much for me post-op, but I was so grateful for her. And to be there every day in the lead up to our due date was so special. 

When we welcomed Ace into the world … it’s hard to put it into words. Being his father has been the greatest honor of my life. It’s such a privilege to have the responsibility to raise him. We’re a little team and I think he might have some manster in him, too.

Starting a family here in Tampa, and the support I received from everyone after my injury — when I say it meant everything to me … that’s not just something I say. I mean it from the bottom of my heart, Tampa. Thank you.

And this past offseason, with my contract being up and thinking about a life somewhere else, it just didn’t work in my head. I tried to think on it. I did. I pictured myself in other jerseys. Thought about Mariah and Ace walking around different cities. Heard from my agent about all the money I could make somewhere else. And I’m not knocking anybody for taking the money. This isn’t about all that. This decision to be a Buc was about me, about my family — about my love for Tampa. I wanted to be here, more than anything else. Simple as that.

You know why?

Because Tampa always believed in me.

They drafted me in the third round in 2017.

They signed me after I tore my ACL in 2021.

And they were here for me again after my injury in October.

To me, that’s just bigger than football.

That’s love.

But I do have to be honest, too. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think we have a damn good football team. And I want another ring. Bad, man. Real bad. That’s part of why I’m back. Great organization, yeah. Weather’s good, yeah. Family is happy, yeah. But I also feel like this group has some business to finish. And another thing on that: As a receiver, you have to like the guy throwing you the rock. And Bake is a real one, let me tell you that.

When I signed my deal, the first notification I got was a FaceTime from him. He was with Tristan and they were so just happy for me. LETS GOOOOOO BRO. LETS GET TO WORK. CANT WAIT!!!

He’s really that guy.

There’s something I learned from winning a Super Bowl with Tom that I think about all the time. I mean, there’s a lot of things I learned, but one of them was the way Tom lifted everybody up. At that point in his career everyone knew he was the GOAT. But he made it clear he couldn’t do it on his own. It was about us. And he’d come up to me and be like, Chris, you’re a great player, man. Go make that play. I know you can do it. I was pretty new to the league, and hearing that from that guy? You feel 10 feet tall. You feel like a manster again.

Look, I’m not in the business of comparing anybody to #12. No point in all that. But Bake, he’ll look you in the eyes in the huddle and make you feel like you can do anything. That’s his super power.

That’s the guy I want throwing me the ball.

I know Mike feels the same way, too. Our receiver room … it’s a huge part of why I wanted to be here. In this game, there’s people who are going to do what’s best for them. Even if you’re teammates with them, they won’t want to help you or put you in a position to succeed if it impacts their bottomline. Mike is the opposite of that. Any question I’ve ever had, he’s answered. Whenever I try to give him his flowers, or tell him how incredible he is, he’s always just like, You’re next, bro. You can do it. To have a front row seat to his Hall of Fame career has been amazing. And I take a lot of pride in being one of the best receiver duos of all time. 

Mike always tells me that we’re stronger together, and I can’t wait to get back out there with him.

We got some young guys in our room with a lot of talent, and I’m trying to share as much as I can about the game with them. Mike has been open with me, and I’m doing the same. I want to be a guy that people remember for working his butt off. For treating people the right way. For trying to get 1% better every day. The time I’ve been away from football has been a new chance to prove myself, to put the work in. 

I think that attitude is how I leave my mark after I’m gone.

Feels like I’ve been waiting a long time to get back out on the field. I'm grateful for my renewed perspective on this game I love. I’m beyond ready. I don’t know how you feel, Tampa … but I feel like I got a lot in me. Like I got it all to give. And I’m a little mad, you know? Like I don’t think people have seen the real us quite yet. I can’t wait to show them.

I’ll see y’all on Sunday.

Back to work.

-1Fo