The intriguing playbook of life has taken some unexpected turns for Christopher Pazan, who once threw for touchdowns at the University of Illinois and tackled crime as a Chicago police officer. Now, the erstwhile quarterback turned law enforcer finds himself at the center of a storm, not on the field of play, but in a suburban retailer, facing allegations that seem ripped from the headlines of a crime drama.
Pazan, age 41, was apprehended one Wednesday afternoon at the Meijer store on South Western Avenue in Evergreen Park. According to the famed Sgt. Victor Watts of the Evergreen Park Police, Pazan was allegedly caught in the act of slipping approximately $300 worth of baseball cards into a yard waste bag with the stealth expected of someone more used to commandeering a huddle. No elaborate end-zone celebration awaited him, however. The former quarterback reportedly paid for the yard waste bag, which should have been his winning play, but left the store without settling the score for the cards.
For Pazan, who swapped collegiate sports acclaim and coaching roles for the responsibilities of policing back in 2015, this incident is a setback of noticeable proportions. The department he joined to turn over a new leaf post-football has taken immediate action, stripping him of his police powers pending a meticulous internal investigation. A department spokesperson confirmed these steps in a crisp release that underscores the gravity of the situation. Up until this twist of fate, Pazan was assigned to the Morgan Park District and detailed to the high-stakes central investigations division, investigating cases with plots thick enough to fill a bookshelf, from arson to major crashes.
Attempts to him find his voice in the midst of the cacophony have proven unsuccessful. His attorney made about as much noise as a pin drop in an empty room— in other words, they were similarly unreachable for comment.
Yet, Christopher Pazan is not just another name on the police department roster. Before he was a badge-wearing law enforcer, he was a veritable gridiron gladiator. At Brother Rice High School in Mount Greenwood, Pazan earned All-American honors, and he soared to fame—or at least public recognition— as a quarterback with the Fighting Illini. Despite a college career that was not quite Heisman caliber but still noteworthy, he set his career trajectory towards public service and policing. In a moment of introspection captured by none other than the Chicago Tribune, Pazan shared that his pivot to policing stemmed from a desire “to serve in a different capacity.” Ironically, those words now echo with a twist of dramatic irony.
Aside from woeful wisdom gained through life’s slings and arrows, Pazan makes a salary that aligns well with his role, confirmed at $111,804 excluding overtime. Even so, financial stability appears as fleeting as a perfectly executed flea-flicker. As documented in recent court records, the erstwhile athlete is grappling with an off-the-field challenge: financial difficulties. Amid a protracted divorce, he was expected to appear at a court hearing on the very day he intercepted—and evidently dropped—those sought-after baseball cards. Adding another subplot, his former attorney, Tania K. Harvey, sought judicial approval to compel him to hand over more than $5,800 in unpaid legal fees.
Highlighting an urgent extrication effort led by his present legal team, Pazan is in the process of refinancing his Beverly home to foot his legal terrain’s hefty bill and potentially settle the personal melodramas spiraling around him.
Seen through the prying eyes of city hiring guidelines, our protagonist’s financial odyssey is a red flag the size of a goalpost. There is a clever stipulation that bars high-debt individuals from police academy entry, the theory being they may fold too easily under financial pressure or slip into the tempos of corruption. In normal times, these financial considerations are mere background; in Pazan’s saga, they have taken center stage.
Christopher Pazan appears to be running his own legal playbook soon, as he faces a misdemeanor retail theft charge. His court debut in this latest drama is scheduled for June 23 in Bridgeview, setting the stage for a real-life narrative potentially as gripping, fluid, and unpredictable as any football game he ever played. With law, public perception, and personal downfalls tumbling onto this shared field, all involved—Pazan included—await whether this play ends with a game-winning drive or another fumble.
