Friends, family reel after Marshawn Kneeland's death

NFL AGENT JON Perzley woke up to a text last Thursday morning from his client Marshawn Kneeland. Perzley was on the road, in a hotel room, and at that point unaware of the news that would later shake the NFL world -- that Kneeland, a second-year defensive end for the Dallas Cowboys, was dead.

Perzley previously spoke to Kneeland that Tuesday, hours after Kneeland ran down a blocked punt in the end zone for a touchdown on "Monday Night Football." Dallas had ultimately fallen to the Arizona Cardinals 27-17, and Perzley said Kneeland was more focused on his team's loss.

"It was a normal day," Perzley said in an interview with ESPN. "He's happy, but he would want to be better. He'd want to win."

Early that Thursday morning, police found Kneeland's body with an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. Kneeland had previously evaded officers during a pursuit, crashed his car and fled on foot.

Police said they searched for Kneeland for nearly three hours, and while they looked, they received information that he had expressed "suicidal ideations." During their search, his girlfriend called law enforcement to say Kneeland was armed, had a history of mental illness and that he would "end it all," according to various news reports, citing dispatch audio.

She also told police that she was trying to contact Kneeland's agent, according to those reports. Perzley said she wasn't able to call him until morning, after the incident.

Kneeland's death has left those who knew him reeling, according to interviews with his family, agent and former teammates. Many described Kneeland as a person who was often smiling -- sometimes to the point of giggling -- kind, confident and steadfast in his belief that he belonged in the NFL.

"He just had this charm about him that was so pure and honest. I don't think there's a person who crossed paths with him who had a bad thing to say," Perzley said. "On the outside you go, he checks every box that exists, and so I think that's why it's really hard for people right now. It's hard to understand it. Really hard."

Perzley declined to go into detail about much of the message he received from Kneeland because he didn't want to compromise an active police investigation.

But one part of that last message keeps him going.

Kneeland told him he loved him.

MARSHAWN KNEELAND GREW up in Grand Rapids, Michigan, 25 miles from Lake Michigan. When Kneeland was in elementary school and others were making snowmen, he was honing his football skills, said his cousin Nicole Kneeland-Woods. Even back then, the NFL was his dream, she said.

"That's all he ever wanted to do," she said.

His grandma called him her baby giant. And Kneeland stood out, for his size -- eventually growing to 6-foot-3 and 268 pounds -- and his personality.

"He was physically a big guy, but he was the most kindhearted, caring, just generous, loving person that you'd ever meet," Kneeland-Woods told ESPN. "We always knew he was going to be something because he was different, focused. He knew what he wanted."

In high school, Kneeland played linebacker and tight end, receiving all-state honorable mention as a junior and later earning a spot on the all-state first team in his senior year.

But Kneeland was a two-star recruit who didn't get many FBS offers. He stayed close to home, signing with Western Michigan in Kalamazoo, about 50 miles south of Grand Rapids, where he made an impression upon his arrival in 2019.

"He had great energy," said Andre Carter, a fellow Western Michigan defensive lineman who played with Kneeland for four years. "Infectious energy, actually."

Carter remembered coming into the football building when he was having a bad day, only to have it turned around by a smile from Kneeland. "It's an understatement to say how great his energy [was] and just how much he was needed in that room," Carter said. The pair bonded over football and anime.

Two of Kneeland's college teammates, Jeremiah Piper and Quinton Cannon, also noted Kneeland's love for anime. Cannon said Kneeland watched "Cyberpunk: Edgerunners," a show about a dystopian future in which the main character loses his mother and later dies himself.

In Kneeland's sophomore season in 2020, former teammate Jamal Williams, who was on the Western Michigan roster the year before, was reportedly shot and killed in an incident with security while at a hospital for his mental health. "It made us kind of all just stick with each other and hold each other tight and pretty much just be there for each other," Carter said.

Western Michigan defensive lineman Hozey Haji-Badri said he leaned on Kneeland when he transferred from East Carolina. Kneeland picked him up before practice and took him out to eat afterward. "He really got me acclimated," Haji-Badri said. "And for that, I'll never forget." The two bonded over a shared love of food -- anything from barbecue to Thai, Haji-Badri said.

After the 2022 season, Western Michigan fired coach Tim Lester. Kneeland entered the transfer portal and was set to go to Colorado. But Perzley said he changed his mind after a conversation with his high school coach, Brandon Kimble, who talked to him about loyalty and staying to get his degree.

Kneeland also felt compelled to stay close to home because his grandfather's health was failing, his cousin Kneeland-Woods said.

Months before his final college season, Kneeland's grandfather died.

THAT DIDN'T SEEM to slow Kneeland. He earned a trip to the Senior Bowl in 2024, a showcase for top NFL draft talent, and was invited to the NFL scouting combine, which was set for the end of February.

Eleven days before the combine, his mom, Wendy Kneeland, died unexpectedly. She was 45 years old. Perzley told Kneeland that it was OK if he didn't want to go to Indianapolis. Perzley said he'd call everyone, and they would understand.

"Nope," Perzley said Kneeland told him, "Mama would want me to do this."

Perzley said Kneeland's girlfriend was his "rock" during that time, sharing tears, hugs and many conversations. "But he was a warrior," Perzley said.

At the combine, Kneeland turned in the fastest times of any defensive lineman in the short shuttle and three-cone drill.

A few days later, he returned home to Michigan for his mom's celebration-of-life ceremony. Kneeland eulogized his mother. He talked about her always being there on cold nights in the stands at his football games and always lending an ear when he needed help with school or life.

He said his life had been hectic lately, and that he had hoped his mom could be there with him for his draft party.

"The thing that helped me go on," he told the congregation, "was just like, 'OK, we've got time.' And obviously this is unexpected. ... But man, I wish if I could go back in time, I would've definitely found a way for me to go to see her.

"It tore me apart, but one thing that helped me get through it is that I can still feel her just training, and this and that. I would ask her to be with me, and I can feel her presence with me, and I still do. She was always that loving person, so I know she's still watching over me. It's definitely tough going through it, but I try to be strong, as much as I can."

On April 26, 2024, the Cowboys selected him in the second round with the 56th pick. In a Dallas Cowboys YouTube video, then-coach Mike McCarthy congratulated Kneeland by phone.

"I won't let you down," Kneeland told him.

IN AN INTERVIEW with ESPN, McCarthy said Kneeland's temperament stood out in his early days as a Cowboy. Kneeland was innately tough, he said.

Kneeland was given the No. 94 -- the jersey number worn by Pro Football Hall of Famers Charles Haley and DeMarcus Ware. It didn't seem to intimidate him.

"His first minicamp practice, you could see he got into it a little bit with the tight ends and just older players," McCarthy said. "But he played the same way all the time.

"He was just a very impressive guy that fit right in. He could be quiet, but he always had a smile on his face. He always had a grin ... I would say that you always knew the water ran deep with him. Just in my time with him he was a respectful, deep thinker."

McCarthy said he was aware of the struggles and loss that Kneeland went through in the months before his rookie season, and said the Cowboys have a good support system in place to keep tabs on the players' mental health.

"Anybody that can touch the locker room has a responsibility to connect and be a part of it," he said. "That's what's so gut-wrenching about what happened. Because immediately you go right to, 'What could I have done? Could I have done something better?'"

A month into his rookie season, Kneeland was playing well and starting to get an expanded role. Then, on Oct. 6, 2024, in Pittsburgh, on the fourth defensive play of the game, he was taking quarterback Justin Fields to the ground when he partially tore a meniscus.

Kneeland had surgery, and McCarthy said he was impressed with how diligent he was in his rehab. He finished the 2024 season with nine solo tackles.

"I found him to be professionally mature," McCarthy said. "He belonged from day one ... I mean, he was raw -- 90% of them are. But he was definitely a guy that I thought would play a long time in this league. I mean, he had 10-year-plus qualities just because of the way that he played."

WITH 4:05 TO go in the second quarter of Dallas' Monday night matchup with the Cardinals on Nov. 3, Arizona held a 10-0 lead and lined up for a punt from its own 36-yard line. Cowboys defensive end Sam Williams plowed through the Arizona line and into the face of punter Pat O'Donnell, whose kick ricocheted off Williams' helmet back into the Arizona end zone.

Three Cowboys took off running in a straight-line sprint from the 25. Kneeland led the pack. He fell on the football as it spun to a stop in the end zone. Coach Brian Schottenheimer pumped his fist on the sideline, and Kneeland jumped into Williams' arms to celebrate.

Former Western Michigan teammate Carter watched from his couch. "It was just one of those wow moments like, 'Wow, I'm really blessed to be able to see this before my eyes.'"

His other former teammate Haji-Badri texted Kneeland immediately after the touchdown to tell him how proud he was.

Back in Illinois, his cousin Kneeland-Woods was watching with her three sons. "Marshawn got a touchdown!" one of them screamed. Kneeland-Woods sent a text, "We see you, 94!"

TWO DAYS LATER, at 10:39 that Wednesday night, Frisco police and the Texas Department of Public Safety teamed up to track down a car that had evaded troopers, according to a statement from law enforcement.

On highway surveillance video obtained by ESPN via a public records request seeking footage related to Kneeland, a Dodge Charger appears to be speeding northbound on the Dallas North Tollway, in some instances pursued by a police car. Police did not say what prompted the pursuit. The Charger then appears to exit the highway onto a parallel access road and turn left onto an overpass to make a U-turn south.

Moments later, the video shows the Charger traveling southbound about one block from The Star -- the Cowboys' sprawling 91-acre headquarters -- where the car then appears to crash into another vehicle. A spokesperson for the Texas Department of Public Safety said Kneeland crashed into a pickup truck, but the driver of the truck was not injured.

According to police, Kneeland fled the crash, and police began to search for him using drones and K-9 units. Police ultimately located Kneeland at 1:31 a.m. with an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.

Kneeland kept his circle tight, Perzley said. He figured there were maybe five people lucky enough to know some of Kneeland's innermost thoughts. Perzley is part of that orbit, but he would never have imagined that touchdown, and that call Tuesday, would be some of the last moments he'd share with Kneeland.

Perzley said Kneeland's family life was hard, and that sometimes people suffer in silence. He said Kneeland was different, but in "a special way." He often wore black, Perzley believes, because he didn't want to be recognized. He didn't seek out fame.

Now Perzley finds himself with a heightened sense of worry about all of his other clients. He said Kneeland wanted to make sure the people around him had a good time and often projected a smiling, happy image.

Perzley said it seems like more young people are taking their own lives these days, and it pains him to think of someone else going through this.

"He was young and handsome and incredible at football," he said. "And to have all of that and still hurt on the inside, you know, it sucks.

"I hate it. It's awful. But something is telling me he's at peace."

ESPN's Todd Archer and Paula Lavigne contributed to this report.