a heartfelt, analytical, and emotional reflection on Tez leaving and your disappointment with the front office:
“We Let One Get Away: Farewell, Tez”
It’s one of those moves that just doesn’t sit right.
Not because it wasn’t expected—sometimes you can feel it coming. Not because the writing wasn’t on the wall—we’ve seen how this front office operates when contract time comes around. But because this one should have been different.
Tez wasn’t just another guy. He was a tone-setter. A leader. The type of player who embodies a franchise’s identity. And now, he’s heading to Tampa.
And I’m still sitting here wondering how we let this happen.
It’s hard to put into words how much Tez meant to this team without sounding overly sentimental, but honestly, some players just matter more.
When you’ve got a locker room guy like that—someone who leads by example, puts in the dirty work, and has the respect of every single teammate—you do what it takes to keep him around.
That’s what winning organizations do.
Let’s not sugarcoat it: the front office dropped the ball.
We’ve seen this story play out before, right? A fan-favorite, a locker room leader, someone who’s done everything right, gets undervalued.
The team makes vague statements about “cap flexibility” or “future plans,” and the player ends up somewhere else.
Only this time, it’s even more frustrating because Tez wanted to stay. You could feel it in every interview.
You could read it between the lines on social media.
He loved it here. He embraced the city. And the city embraced him right back.
Tez wasn’t a star in the traditional sense.
He didn’t always light up the stat sheet or make the highlight reels.
But if you watched the games really watched—you knew his impact went far beyond the numbers. He made plays that kept drives alive.
He broke up passes that saved points.
He held teammates accountable. He gave everything he had, every single game.
That kind of presence doesn’t just get replaced overnight.
And now he’s heading to a team that knows exactly what they’re getting.
Tampa isn’t just adding a player—they’re adding a culture guy, a game-changer, someone who will walk in on Day 1 and make people around him better.
Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he becomes a captain before the season even starts.
That’s just who Tez is. The Bucs didn’t just sign a solid contributor. They signed the heart and soul of a locker room that our front office didn’t value enough.
Look, I get it—football is a business. You can’t pay everyone. Tough decisions have to be made. But this wasn’t that tough.
Not for a guy who gave everything he had and still had more in the tank. Not for a guy whose presence made everyone around him better.
Not for a guy who wanted to stay.
It’s especially frustrating when you consider some of the deals we did make.
Overpaying for potential while letting proven leadership walk out the door? That’s a recipe for regression.
And when we hit that inevitable rough patch next season—and we will—you can bet people will look around and wonder where the voice in the room is.
The guy who speaks up. The guy who leads by example. The guy we let go.
It just feels like we’re moving backward.
I want to believe in the front office. I really do. But moves like this make it hard.
When you lose someone like Tez and don’t have a solid plan in place to replace what he brought—not just on the field, but in the building—it tells fans that you don’t fully understand what makes a team tick. Chemistry matters.
Leadership matters. Loyalty matters.
Tez was one of the few guys who actually meant something to the fans on a deeper level. And now he’s gone.
But this isn’t just a bitter goodbye. It’s also a thank you.
Thank you, Tez, for everything you gave this team.
For every key third-down play, every hard hit, every fired-up sideline moment.
For being the guy who cared, even when it didn’t show up in the box score.
For representing this city with pride.
For wearing the jersey like it meant something—because it did. To you, and to us.
We’ll be watching you in Tampa, no doubt.
And we’ll be rooting for you—even if it stings a little to see you in another uniform.
Because players like you deserve success.
You deserve to be recognized for everything you bring to the game.
And while our front office didn’t get it right, that doesn’t mean we didn’t see it. We did. Loud and clear.
You’re not just a footnote in the franchise’s history. You’re a chapter.
So best of luck in Tampa, Tez. Go show them what we already know. That you’re the kind of player who changes the game—not just with your talent, but with your heart.
We’ll miss you more than the box score ever could show.
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