Losing Charles Rogers: Journalist shares memories of three days in 2017 with the MSU great

CHEYENNE, Wyo. — I’ve been waiting for news on Charles Rogers.

It was either going to be a tale of sweet redemption or the dozens of calls, texts and messages I received this morning. Sadly, Rogers' too early death was always closer to a sure thing.

Rogers was a star at Saginaw High School and Michigan State, which propelled him to becoming the No. 2 overall pick in the 2003 NFL Draft. 

He died Monday morning. He was just 38.

Because I spent three days with Rogers in 2017 a story on his life after the NFL, I'm often asked what my thoughts are on “Chuck” as his beloved teammates and friends called him. A few terms come to mind.

Talented.

Troubled.

Giving.

Selfish.

The one that bothers me the most, especially today, is – alone.

His injuries and painkiller addiction derailed his dreams

When I met Rogers in March of 2017, I was on assignment for the Lansing State Journal. I had pitched the idea of finding Charles Rogers. I found him. He was living in Ft. Myers, Florida, working in a detail shop for a childhood friend.

Rogers didn’t know anything about cars, this job wasn’t about that. It was to give him a purpose and hopefully a new start. He said it was his first real gig outside of football.

Rogers had been mostly MIA since his premature exit from the NFL in 2005. Injuries, and a painkiller addiction, derailed his dreams, he told me.

He used to be famous for circus catches in crucial moments at MSU, but after his NFL career, courtroom scenes, embarrassing front-page stories and public squabbles with his mother became the norm.

Rogers never fully admitted it, but he was too ashamed to come back to his home state. He felt like he let everyone down. His image was tarnished. If he wasn’t a pro football player, he was a nobody.

Those things couldn’t be further from the truth, as I told him many times.

He couldn't escape his demons 

Don Durrett, his coach at Saginaw High, all but begged Rogers to come back and be a mentor to the youth in that troubled city. Mark Dantonio and Ken Mannie welcomed him back to MSU with open arms. That day meant the world to Rogers, but he always cared too much about what people thought of him.

When I arrived in Florida, I found a downtrodden man, underweight and fidgety. His tone remained upbeat, but three consecutive days of his life stories painted a much different picture of his state of mind.

He was out of touch with his family, including his eight children, and was still very much involved with marijuana, the substance that most thought plagued him during his brief stint with the Detroit Lions.

Alcohol, he said, was never a concern in his life. Each day we met, I asked Rogers if he had been drinking. Frustrated, he would remind me that he saved alcohol for when he was watching a ball game or a big fight.

The smell of his breath said otherwise.

After our first three-plus hour session at a strip-mall pizza shop, I called his former Spartan teammate, TJ Duckett. He was excited to hear how his longtime friend was doing. Rogers always told him things were going great. Life was on the up and up.

I delivered the somber news.

Duckett openly sobbed, a moment I will never forget.

Often, Rogers would speak of the "friends" he had when he was a wealthy NFL player. None of those people were there for him when he needed them most, he would say.

Rogers rarely asked for help. It was always the other way around.

“I’ve done so much for so many people, and I can’t ask them for shit, that’s the killer. Man, that’s the killer,” Rogers said. “That hurts, bro. They can’t never say Charlie Rogers was a selfish guy. I didn’t have that wisdom, man. I blew some cash.”

In the end, he was selfish though.

He pushed away those who cared about him, people like Duckett and Durrett. He wasn’t in his children’s life when we last spoke. I hope that changed.

Rogers was alone, almost in hiding. Occasionally, someone would recognize him and ask for an autograph. That made him feel important again, but the feeling was fleeting.

He was as gifted as they come on the football field, basketball court and track. He’s arguably the best athlete to ever come out of Michigan. But he could never seem to run away from the demons that haunted him since youth.

He couldn't see how special he was to his community  

When I received word that Rogers died this morning, my first reaction was that I wasn’t surprised. He lived a tough life. He was stuck in reverse. Things never seemed to change.

Admittedly, Rogers and I never got back on track with our relationship after the print hit the paper for my story, “Finding Charles Rogers.” Truth, in black and white, hurts.

His life story:Finding Charles Rogers

Getting to know him:Watch a Q&A on Charles Rogers with Cody Tucker and Graham Couch

Rogers thanked me for the article, couldn’t believe I paid that much attention to some details he told me and reassured me things were going to get better for him.

I never believed him.

That hurts to write.

Rogers was likeable. There wasn’t an ounce of evil in him. He was simply lost.

And he left this world too soon. He was a once-in-a-lifetime talent on the football field, troubled off it. He may have built his brand as a playmaker, but what most people wanted for Rogers was to just come home. Give back. Be present.

Something inside never allowed him to do that.

I will always cherish my time with Rogers. It wasn’t lost on me just how special he was. I just wish he could’ve seen it himself.

Cody Tucker is the is the founder and publisher of 7220sports.com. He's a former sports storyteller for the Lansing State Journal.