'You wear it on you:' Why every NFL team needs a Darrynton Evans
One year ago, tragedy struck. A sudden death rocked his world. It's only June. But this veteran Buffalo Bills running back knows he has wisdom to share at OTAs.
ORCHARD PARK, NY — The secret to pro football survival is not the ability to squat the most 45-pound plates on a barbell inside a weight room, high-knee your way through a ladder at warp speed or produce a highlight reel play at a pad-less OTA practice. Nothing that’s digestible in eight seconds flat on the screen of your phone. Because each summer, rosters swell to 90 players apiece. A fresh wave of rookies sends veterans inching closer and closer to the edge of that NFL cliff.
All inevitably fall at some point. Right into a new career.
But observe what many consider the sport’s most disposable position at a Buffalo Bills voluntary practice this past week — running back — and you’ll do a double take. James Cook isn’t here. He’d like his employer to show him the money. There’s Ray Davis, forever the homeless kid from San Francisco. There’s Ty Johnson, manifesting dreams. There’s Frank Gore Jr., son of wildly indestructible Frank Sr. And right there is a player whose name has graced the transaction wire in perpetuity. Darrynton Evans was originally drafted by the Tennessee Titans in the third round of the 2020 NFL Draft.
Since then? The Oak Hill, Fla., native has moved nine times.
Airport to airport. Hotel to hotel. Goodbye never feels like goodbye, Tennessee (2020- ’21)… to Chicago (March-August ’22)… to Indianapolis (March-May ’23)… to Buffalo (July-August ’23)… to Miami (August-October ’23)… back to Chicago (October-November ’23)… back to Miami (November to January ’23)… back to Buffalo for nine weeks in ’24… then back again to Chicago for the final nine weeks until — finally — finding himself right here in Western New York on this 2025 Bills offseason roster for a third time.
As he walks off the Bills’ practice field — his blue No. 21 jersey drenched into a dark navy — Evans clutches a helmet in one hand and, I suppose, the sorcerer’s stone in the other. There’s nothing physically or athletically extraordinary about this 5-foot-10, 203-pound pro from Appalachian State. It’d be very easy for Brandon Beane to use this roster spot on basically anything else: a basketball high-flier auditioning at tight end, a rugby giant who dreams of playing offensive tackle, a 22-year-old lottery ticket somewhere.
Yet three times over the general manager has welcomed this player back.
Rather than catch up with a starter who quite obviously factors into the Bills’ latest Super Bowl quest, Go Long chatted with Evans this past week to explore how in the hell he keeps getting contracts in such a cutthroat world.
First, Evans buzzes his lips in disbelief. His eyes widen. Backing up a 2,000-yard back in Year 1, Derrick Henry, meant riding the pine. A torn PCL sidelined him in Year 2. That was an eye-opener. That made him appreciate football more than ever, and he’s been pinballing throughout the league ever since. The Colts were a promising spot until they drafted a back out of Northwestern (Evan Hull). Every time he went back to Chicago there was some sort of drama — firings, wacky losses, more firings.
“I really just think it’s being self-motivated,” Evans says. “Trying to prove myself every day that I deserve to be here.”
He pauses.
“Then,” he adds, “last year my dad passed away.”
Come again?
Go Long is your destination for NFL longform.
We are completely powered by you.
Heartbreak effortlessly weaves into the chronology of his career. Detailing the worst day of his life, Evans doesn’t get choked up.
But anyone trying to figure out how this nomad keeps going can simply look back to the events of June 29, 2024. That’s when his father, Darry Evans Sr., died of cancer. Up to 2024, Evans’ gameday ritual was the same. He’d take a nap, check his phone, fully absorb the lengthy text from Dad waiting for him. Darry would send a scripture, encourage his son to pray, offer a final message before his son took the field.
Now, his phone’s dark on Sundays. That text from Dad never arrives.
With a towel draped over his head, Evans sits in his locker and the tears pour.
“I cry before every game. Every game, I cry.
“It puts me in the moment.”
We tend to forget about everything that happens to players around those three hours on TV. Those on the NFL fringes are one bad day from vanishing. Perhaps it’s something pill-sized on the field. A fumble, a missed assignment, a benching can poison one’s psyche beyond repair. Perhaps it’s life-and-death turmoil. This team’s last Top 5 draft pick, Sammy Watkins, once ripped open his scars. Perhaps it’s tragedy. The loss of a loved one can render football exceptionally trivial. Depressed? Focus can be impossible. A grown man understandably loses the spirit to hurl his body into a violent sport. The NFL’s a crucible, not a cubicle.
Darrynton Evans never tried to compartmentalize. Instead, he quite literally brushes those tears away, buckles a chinstrap and actively uses his pain.
“I feel like it pushes it all in the right place,” he says. “When I do get out there, I can lock in. However I’m feeling. I can just let it go.”
The road to a 53-man roster spot will be arduous (again), but it’s easy to see why a Super Bowl contender wants Evans around. There’s no escaping human suffering. The Bills, under Beane, do a masterful job of identifying and valuing individuals up and down the roster who know exactly how to use that pain for good.
Dad first realized he had cancer when his son was turning pro. Evans was a projected top 10 running back in the 2020 draft after rushing for 1,480 yards and 18 touchdowns his final season at Appalachian State. Amid Covid mayhem, Evans was unable to train at a full-fledged facility, so he worked out with his Dad. Together, they’d run hills to the point of Darry getting lightheaded. He developed neuropathy from all the radiation and chemo. But he never complained and he rarely took breaks. After all, for the prior 20+ years, Darry ran five miles and lifted weights every single day.
Through his son’s NFL odyssey, their bond only grew. Darrynton refers to Darry as his best friend — they’d talk every day. As soon as he left the facility, Darrynton opened up a family group call. Dad always picked up immediately, too. The phone wouldn’t even ring once.
Looking back, Darrynton is thankful for his time in 2023 with the Dolphins because he was able make the 3 ½-hour trip home every other weekend and assist with doctor appointments.
Into the summer of 2024, he was set to compete for a roster spot with the Bills. Home for Darrynton is Charlotte, N.C. He’s not sure why exactly, but something in his gut said to spend time with family in Florida. The plan was to see his grandmother (who’s in her 90s), and then help Dad fly to Charlotte — he had never flown by himself before, he wanted to spent that first week of July with his son. Doctors gave Darry the A-OK to start his next round of treatments on July 10. The plan was to chill with Darrynton in Charlotte through the July Fourth holiday. Darrynton’s birthday was on July 9.
First, the whole family would get some quality time in.
Back at his parents’ home, everything was fine.
The Evans family played cards — tonk, spades, etc. — and planned for a long day of grilling the next day. Darry had it all mapped out: burgers, hot dogs, ribs, steaks. When Darrynton left around 10:30 p.m., Dad reminded his son: “Don’t forget the buns!” They hugged. Both said, “I love you.” Darrynton and his wife headed to their hotel 20 minutes away to get some sleep and at exactly 2 a.m., he woke up. Out of nowhere, Darrynton could not sleep. “I just felt off,” he says. He stared at the clock, 2 a.m. to 3, to 4, to 5, to 6.
That’s when his mother called. She was wailing.
When Evans’ brother went to the garage to get dog food, he had discovered their dad laid out.
At the age of 73, on June 29, Darry Evans Sr. lost his life.
When Son arrived, Dad was still there. The vision of his hero, his best friend motionless on the garage floor remains etched in his memory. Since this was considered a “crime scene,” they weren’t allowed to move him anywhere until authorities arrived. Darrynton watched the entire agonizing process. Dad’s body was put into a bag. The bag was then zipped, hauled into a vehicle and driven away.
All he remembers is crying. There were no coherent thoughts.
“Everything happened so fast,” he says. “From 10:30 full of life to the next morning. You never know.”
Cancer took his life. But there were no warning signs.
His wife contacted the Bills, and Evans repeats three times over that the organization was unbelievably supportive. Several coaches attended the funeral. Only later did Darrynton discover that his father knew time was running out. Usually, the entire family listened in on his doctor appointments via FaceTime. This time? The doctor didn’t want Darry’s wife, Evelyn, in the room. Nor did he let Darry use the phone to include his kids.
That’s because the doctor told him he had four to six months to live. Darry only shared this news with his pastor.
He clearly didn’t want this grim news to be a burden on anyone.
Soon after the funeral, Bills training camp began.
Evans didn’t try to forget what happened in Florida — that’d be impossible. He made a picture of his father the lock screen on his phone. And when he hopped on the family FaceTime after practice, he caught himself asking Mom where Dad was. When it came to fighting for a roster spot at St. John Fisher College, his mentality was simple: He worked. He still had a wife to support. He still had “to be a man at the end of the day.”
The result was what he calls the best camp of his life… right up to a hamstring injury the final exhibition game that landed him on injured reserve.
He had help on the Bills staff. Lots of help. Someone invariably checked in on him every day — the GM Beane, head coach Sean McDermott, running backs coach Kelly Skipper, the team chaplain Len Vanden Bos or a player favorite: team psychologist Desaree Festa. He’d sit down with “Dr. Dez” to chat at length every week. She helped him cope with his loss and move forward. After spending the first half of the season on IR, Evans was released, signed with the Bears and — 530 miles away? — he says Beane checked in on him regularly to make sure his head was in a good place.
“Even when I wasn’t here,” Evans says, “they made sure me as a person, not just a player, was OK. That goes a long way.”
He loves the “college feel” of this market. It’s easier to lock in here than Chicago, Miami, Nashville.
Best of all, he doesn’t see anyone receiving special treatment on this roster.
“Everybody in the building, they treat you the exact same. That’s the way I describe it. When I go to other teams and they're like, ‘Yo, what’s your favorite place?’ I tell ‘em here. Why? I'm like, ‘Shoot. You could be the MVP, Josh Allen or you could be me. You're going to get treated the same. You’re going to get the same respect from everybody. It’s all love.”
With the Bears, he got some game action. Evans received a handful of snaps on offense, primarily chipping in on special teams for a 5-12 Bears teams.
The tragedy changed his perspective in real time.
“You wear it on you. It helps you move past a bad play. Good things happen. Bad things happen. I move on.”
After the season, Evans visited the headstone back in Oak Hill for the first time since the funeral and Dad’s death became even more real.
Two months later — March 2025 — he (again) signed with the Bills. With mandatory minicamp slated for next week, we’ll see if James Cook is willing to absorb fines. The team’s No. 1 back who rushed for 1,009 yards and 16 scores last season doesn’t say much in a media setting but has gone very public with his desire for a new contract. Beane told us he needs to see more. Davis is a promising bruiser in Year 2. Johnson is the trusty third-down back. Evans’ potential role is unknown. He brings blazing 4.4 speed to the group and a wealth of experience on special teams. That’s a valuable combination.
Until Cook returns, offensive coordinator Joe Brady doesn’t mind seeing what he has in the other running backs.
“You guys know by now how I feel about Jimbo and look, that's stuff that’s besides me,” Brady said at his OTA presser. “I don’t make those decisions and whatnot. But he was obviously huge for us last year and I’m excited when he is here to be able to get with him. I obviously love Jimbo, but it's just like anyone. Whenever someone’s not here, it’s a great opportunity for the guys that are and seeing Ray and Ty and D-Ev and Frank get those opportunities, everybody benefits from that, but I’m excited whenever Jimbo is back with us.”
This day, he thinks back to his freshman year of high school when the lead back went down and he was thrown into a starting role. He thinks of App State, when NFL prospect Jalin Moore suffered a devastating ankle injury and he was thrust into action.
This wait for touches in the NFL isn’t anything new.
He’ll stay ready if the opportunity knocks.
He’ll stay ready for bad news, too. It’s funny that outsiders think NFL players print money. Evans never gets locked into a six- or 12-month apartment lease. By now, he’s used to living the hotel life. Last year, he actually bunked with Ty Johnson. Yes, the two were competing for a paycheck — their livelihoods were in direct opposition — but he calls Johnson “a brother.” They’ve known each other for 6+ years. Johnson was one of the first friends to reach out when Dad died. Frank Gore Sr. used to train the two of them with Frank Jr., which is why Evans calls the three Bills backs “family.” Even after his release, as a Bear, Evans tried to impart as much “wisdom” as he possibly could with all of Buffalo’s backs from afar. Cook included.
Evans knows the type of player Beane needs to bash down that Super Bowl barrier — he labels himself “battle-tested.”
“There’s always opportunity. They brought me back for a reason,” Evans says. “Running the ball, catching the ball, pass blocking, special teams, wherever they need me at. I’ve shown in the past six years — no matter what team I’ve been on — I’ve been able to play in a lot of different spots. Especially on special teams. It’s always being able to do more and add more value. Find your role. Help the team.
“My process day-in, day-out is going to take care of itself. Whether it’s this roster or another roster.”
Whenever it’s organic here at One Bills Drive, Darrynton Evans shares a story with a teammate. He’s seen so much in his six years. Vets like the Canton-bound Derrick Henry made a point to carve out time for him, so he plans on paying it forward. Be it from the 53-man roster, the practice squad or a completely different team.
Down in Florida, Darry Evans Sr. leaves a legacy. The Daytona Times ran a story remembering him as Oak Hill’s first black mayor (1999- ’03). He also served nearly three decades with the Department of Juvenile Justice, retiring as a lieutenant. Darry and Evelyn had five children in all. In the piece, Darry Jr. recalls the deep talks shared inside that family garage.
Right now, Buffalo is home. Darrynton hopes to keep it that way. When games begin, he’ll follow the same routine. As kickoff nears, the running back will take a seat inside his locker, close his eyes, weep and then McDermott will instruct players to take the field. With that, he’ll dab away the tears and play a football game.
Others will wonder how he can possibly harness such raw emotions.
To Evans? The transition will feel seamless.
Go Long is powered by you.
Subscribers can access all profiles, team deep dives and podcasts. Thanks to all for growing our community.
ICYMI:
'I know it can be done:' Our 1 on 1 with Buffalo Bills GM Brandon Beane
I'm in on Brandon Beane's defensive swing
Survival Mode: The Power of Ray Davis’ Pain
Ty Johnson and how the Buffalo Bills can 'manifest' playoff glory
Download the Substack app to access everything, including audio narration of stories:
You bring so many stories to the surface Ty. Hoping Darrynton has a good camp with so much perseverance. Great read, hopefully the Hard Knocks folks have a Go Long subscription.
Thank you Ty.