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Tyrann Mathieu retires after 12 iconic seasons and fans say Honey Badger finally returns to the wild

Tyrann Mathieu’s journey from LSU stardom to NFL greatness was marked by defiance, brilliance, and a legacy that proves size isn’t everything — it’s the heart that hits hardest.

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Tyrann Mathieu Retires After 12 Seasons Fans Say Honey Badger Returns to the Wild
Tyrann Mathieu celebrates a game-winning play during his career-defining years with the Kansas City Chiefs.

Tyrann Mathieu, better known as the “Honey Badger,” has officially stepped away from the game after 12 unforgettable seasons in the NFL. On Tuesday, the New Orleans Saints defensive back announced his retirement, drawing the curtain on a career that redefined what a modern safety could be.

Standing at just 5-foot-9, Mathieu’s size was always a headline — but only until he stepped on the field. Because what he lacked in height, he made up for in instinct, versatility, aggression, and undeniable charisma.

ALSO READ : Para Sempre: Diogo Jota’s Final Goodbye Just Days After Dream Wedding Stuns Football World

He just gets it,” said Chiefs head coach Andy Reid, who compared Mathieu’s leadership to that of Eric Berry and Brian Dawkins. “He’s not the biggest guy… but man, is he a good football player.

The LSU Legend That Almost Was

Mathieu’s legend began in Baton Rouge. As a freshman at Louisiana State University, his highlight-reel play at nickelback and punt return electrified fans. His sophomore year in 2011 cemented him as the heart of LSU’s defense, helping the Tigers defeat Alabama in the “Game of the Century.” He became a Heisman Trophy finalist and took home the Chuck Bednarik Award for best defensive player in the nation.

Mathieu led the SEC in forced fumbles twice. Coaches, fans, and analysts began whispering — could this be LSU’s greatest defender of all time?

Then, in 2012, came the fall. Les Miles, then head coach of LSU, dismissed Mathieu from the team for violating team rules. Reports cited multiple failed drug tests. From top-tier stardom to sidelined in a heartbeat — it could’ve been the end.

But it wasn’t.

Mathieu checked into rehab, stayed enrolled at LSU, and kept training. His dream wasn’t dead — it had just taken a detour.

NFL Redemption and Rise to Stardom

Despite his off-field concerns, Arizona Cardinals took a chance on him in the 3rd round of the 2013 NFL Draft. That risk would turn into one of the best decisions in franchise history.

Tyrann Mathieu Retires After 12 Seasons Fans Say Honey Badger Returns to the Wild


Mathieu made an immediate impact. His fearless tackling, ball-hawking ability, and position-less style made him an instant fan favorite.

He spent five seasons in Arizona, one in Houston Texans, and three career-defining years with the Kansas City Chiefs. There, he became the emotional engine behind their 2019 Super Bowl-winning team — the first of the Patrick Mahomes era.

Steve Spagnuolo, the Chiefs’ defensive coordinator, called him “the glue” of that unit. And truly, Mathieu brought it all together.

Numbers That Tell the Story

Tyrann Mathieu was more than a safety. He was a Swiss Army knife for every defense he played on. Slot corner, box safety, deep safety — he did it all.

Here’s what he leaves behind:

  • 3× First-Team All-Pro
  • 3× Pro Bowl Selection
  • NFL 2010s All-Decade Team
  • 35+ interceptions
  • 45+ tackles for loss
  • 25 quarterback hits
  • 100 passes defensed

He’s the only player in NFL history to hit all those marks in a single career. Not Charles Woodson. Not Brian Dawkins. Not even Ronde Barber. Just Tyrann Mathieu.

And he did it at 190 pounds, in cleats barely bigger than his heart.

A Wild Instinct You Couldn’t Teach

The “Honey Badger” nickname, inspired by the viral YouTube sensation, wasn’t just a joke — it was the perfect metaphor.

Honey badgers are small, agile, and completely fearless. They attack snakes. They raid bee hives. They fight lions if necessary. That’s exactly how Tyrann Mathieu played football.

You couldn’t scheme him. You couldn’t scare him. You couldn’t out-heart him.

Beyond the Field

Mathieu also became an advocate for mental health and addiction recovery, speaking candidly about his past and how he turned his life around. He mentored younger players and stayed close to LSU, proving that second chances — when taken seriously — can become lifelong victories.

I’ve made my mistakes. But I never stopped loving this game,” Mathieu once told ESPN. “Football saved my life.

Honey Badger’s Legacy

Mathieu didn’t just play multiple roles — he transformed them. He showed that a 5’9” defender could dominate in the trenches, command respect in the locker room, and win championships.

He retires not only as a statistical outlier but as a cultural icon — someone who inspired undersized athletes, outcast kids, and redemption stories everywhere.

From Baton Rouge to Arizona, Kansas City to New Orleans — he gave fans a show every single time.

And now, after 12 years of blazing trails and leaving quarterbacks nervous, the Honey Badger returns to the wild.

Sports

Caleb Williams Impresses, but the Bears’ Late-Game Decisions Raise Eyebrows

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

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Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

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A Strong Night for Caleb Williams Ends With Doubts About the Bears’ Late Decisions

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

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Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

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Sports

Caleb Williams Did His Part But Did the Bears Overthink the Finish

One impossible touchdown changed everything — but Chicago’s season may have been decided by what happened next

Published

on

By

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years

For one breathtaking moment, football stopped making sense.

With seconds left in a divisional-round playoff game, Caleb Williams launched a prayer — a 50-plus-yard, off-balance, back-foot moon shot — and somehow, impossibly, it found Cole Kmet in the end zone. It was the kind of touchdown that instantly joins NFL folklore, the sort of play fans remember for decades.

Suddenly, the Chicago Bears were one extra point away from tying the Los Angeles Rams — a scenario no one could have imagined just moments earlier.

And that’s when the question arrived, loud and unavoidable:

Why not go for two?

The dream-big argument

If Chicago converts the two-point try, the Rams are done. Season over. The Bears move one game away from the Super Bowl, potentially facing either a second-year quarterback or an injury replacement in the AFC. No matchup in the NFL is easy, but this was a window — and those windows don’t stay open long.

Ask Aaron Rodgers or Dan Marino how rare Super Bowl chances truly are. Between them, 38 seasons, one Super Bowl appearance each. Even greatness doesn’t guarantee multiple shots.

Momentum, belief, shock value — everything screamed end it now. One play. One decision. Push all the chips to the middle.

But football decisions aren’t made in the clouds. They’re made in film rooms.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


Why Chicago didn’t gamble

Offensive coordinator Ben Johnson didn’t flinch. Replays showed him calm, unmoved, almost indifferent to the miracle unfolding. He knew the touchdown created options — but also responsibility.

Because miracles don’t stack.

Just minutes earlier, Chicago had first-and-goal at the Rams’ 5-yard line. Three ineffective runs by De’Andre Swift and a failed fourth-down pass told Johnson everything he needed to know about his short-yardage confidence.

After the game, Johnson explained it plainly.

“Our goal-to-go situations hadn’t gone very cleanly,” he said. “Our inside-the-5 plan hadn’t worked out like we hoped. I just felt better about taking our chances in overtime.”

There was also time left — 13 seconds and two Rams timeouts. One explosive play, maybe a penalty, and Los Angeles could still have stolen it with a field goal even after a failed conversion.

So Chicago chose survival over glory.

How it unraveled anyway

The Bears lived to fight in overtime — and then watched their season collapse anyway. A brutal interception. A defensive breakdown. Game over.

And just like that, Williams-to-Kmet joined a heartbreaking fraternity: iconic plays that didn’t change the ending. Think Kurt Warner to Larry Fitzgerald in Super Bowl XLIII. Think Julio Jones and that impossible toe-tap in Super Bowl LI.

Legendary moments — frozen in time — attached to losses.

So… was it the wrong call?

Emotionally? Maybe.

Strategically? Probably not.

Coaches don’t get paid to chase vibes. They get paid to trust evidence. And Chicago’s evidence said a single, all-or-nothing snap wasn’t the best bet.

That doesn’t make it satisfying. It just makes it honest.

Caleb Williams’ miracle touchdown gave the Bears hope — and a decision that will be debated for years


What this moment really means for Chicago

The Bears don’t leave this game empty-handed. They leave with something rarer than a win: belief.

You can’t build a franchise on miracle throws — but you can build a culture on refusing to quit. This team fought until the very last second, and that matters more than fans often admit.

Williams will be just 24 entering the 2026 season. Think about what he might look like at 27, 28, 29. There are no guarantees — Rodgers and Marino taught us that — but this is as good a foundation as any team could ask for.

Years from now, if Chicago is lucky, Williams-to-Kmet won’t be remembered as a cruel “what if.”

It will be remembered as the beginning.

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