Chris Howard

Marine Veteran

At MVP, you can put your guard down

“As an NFL player, at parties, ‘I was the man!’” I had money for partying, drinking, buying jewelry, and women ready to go home with me—we partied like a ‘rock star.’ During my three years with the NFL, I lived a structured, regimented life. After I retired, I went out to a club with my NFL friend, who was still playing—the attention he was getting from everyone made me feel insecure and lost. At this point in my life, I realized I didn’t know who I was outside of football.” 

From fifth grade until he was drafted into the NFL, he had been a star player. He grew up in Kenner, Louisiana, in a subdivision called Lincoln Manor, a small, close-knit segregated community on the outskirts of New Orleans. “If one of us in the neighborhood did something wrong, my parents were bound to hear about it. I played with the same kids in my neighborhood, and we played on the same sports team. When my older brother, 15 years older, and my sister, ten years older, grew up, it was a great neighborhood. By the 80s, cocaine and then crack cocaine tore through our neighborhood.”  

“My parents both worked full time—my father retired from 30 years at the Borden ice cream plant; my mother managed the opening of new dry cleaning stores for a local franchise. Both were volunteer coaches for town sports teams through the City of Kenner Recreation Department.” 

“When I was eight, my dad didn’t want me to play football because he thought I was too small. But my mother signed me up with a team outside our neighborhood. She didn’t tell him, but he found out when someone asked him: ‘Isn’t that your kid playing against our neighborhood kids?’” I scored five touchdowns and rushed for over 150 yards in my first game against my own neighborhood team. We went undefeated in my first year playing football. Needless to say, the following year I was playing for my neighborhood team. 

“One day, when I was in 4th grade, I came home after school and saw two white men sitting in the living room with brochures spread out on the coffee table. They were there to ask my parents to enroll me at John Curtis Christian High School, a co-ed, non- sectarian, private Christian school in River Ridge, Louisiana, that was a 15-minute drive from my neighborhood. It was nationally known for its football program. I attended there from 5th – 12th grades.” 

“I made a name for myself in high school, and in my sophomore year, I started hearing from college recruiters. I had narrowed it down to five schools: UCLA, Notre Dame, University of Florida, University of Tennesee, and the University of Michigan.  After I toured the University of Michigan, I loved the players, the coaches, the academics, and the fact that it didn’t feel like a fast, northern city—it was slow enough for me, although the cold weather and snow was an adjustment.” 

“I decided to major in Kinesiology and Sports Management/Communication. In my senior year, we won the Rose Bowl and split the National Championship with Nebraska. I got invited to play in the Hula Bowl as well as the East/West Shriner’s Bowl. When I was being considered for the 1998 NFL draft, I dropped out of college my last semester to prepare for the draft.” 

“I was drafted by the Denver Broncos in the 5th round. Before my NFL career had a chance to begin, I was injured in a preseason practice game when I hadn’t hydrated myself before or between practices. During the practice, I lost 10 lbs. of water weight, and I became dehydrated. On the last play, I tore a calf muscle. I sat out the first couple of pre-season games to try and get healthy. I probably should have sat out longer, but I wanted to impress my coaches to earn a spot on the 53 man roster. My first game back, I fumbled four times. Previously to this, I had only fumbled four times during all the years I had played the game.”  

“The Broncos wanted to keep me on the practice team because before my injury, I was doing really well. There was a big pay difference on the practice team versus being on the roster. My agent said other teams were interested in me, so I decided to sign with the Jacksonville Jaguars in Florida. I played with them for two years, but because there were already several ‘veteran’ star running backs, I only played on Special Teams.” 

“My last year, I signed with the Oakland Raiders in California. On that team, I was 7th on the depth chart and sitting behind six veteran running backs. Looking ahead to my future, I just saw myself as just another ‘crash dummy’ career on an NFL roster. My passion for football wasn’t there anymore, so I decided to retire.” 

“After I retired, I got married to an up-and-coming actress. I also returned to the University of Michigan for my last semester to finish my degree. After I finished my degree, I moved back to Los Angeles. I was still trying to find my identity. I still had this professional athlete mentality. I was still partying and abusing painkillers. I spent the summer at an internship with Foxsports.net, where I edited the local pro sports highlights to share with a sister television network. By 2005, my wife and I and I were leading separate lives, and quite frankly, I was still living the life of an NFL player, even though I was retired. We separated in 2005, and our divorce was finalized in 2006.”  

“After the internship ended, a friend who was a public relations specialist, suggested that I work with her: she had the contacts to bring in the actors, and I had the connections to bring in the athletes. We worked together for four years. Our business was greatly impacted when the Hollywood-wide strike affected our clients, not being able to pay us.” 

“In 2007, the markets had crashed and studios that used to have massive film funds, backed by the U.S. banks’ investments, went bankrupt and couldn’t raise funds for film projects. An investment banker friend of mine wanted to start raising money for feature films. I still had contacts with producers, directors, and production companies. My friend had access to money. It was the perfect opportunity for me to transition into the next stage of my life.” 

“I moved to Atlanta in 2009, often known as ‘the Hollywood of the south.’ Since 2015  there have been many blockbuster films and TV shows produced in Atlanta as well as well-known studios such as Tyler Perry Studios, Pinewood Atlanta Studios, the ‘unofficial’ home of Marvel Studios, and others. Atlanta was a great place to bridge the gap between Hollywood and New York, where the entertainment industry’s financial decisions were made.” 

“In 2010, I met my current business partner, Josh Jacobs, through LinkedIn. At the time, he was the Creative Director with Turner Studios Atlanta. We clicked, and we wanted to develop projects with the content we both liked. We currently have deals with production companies for high-quality reality shows—travel, food, adventure, etc.—in development.” 

“My personal life is in a good place, but it didn’t come without its bumps, bruises, and setbacks. I met my fiancé, Sonia Arena, through a mutual friend. We hit it off when we first met, and we’ve been together for 11 years. We recently decided to finally ‘tie the knot.’ I’ve enjoyed watching Sonia’s three children, from her previous marriage, grow from teenagers into accomplished adults. Briana, 26, graduated from USC and currently works for Athletes First Sports Agency in New York. Allen, 25, went to Boston College and works for a premier construction company in Boston. Katrina, 23, graduated from NYU a few years ago and now works for a start-up company in New York.” 

“When I was transitioning out of football, there was no MVP to talk to, bounce off ideas, or someone with whom I could express my feelings. When I was playing, I was self-medicating my football injuries with booze and Vicodin, thinking this was my only option. I hid the stress and self-doubt I was feeling from my friends and parents.” 

“I learned about MVP from Brandi Hester, an MMA pro fighter at x3 Sports gym in Atlanta. We became great friends over the years. One day she told me she was working with a new organization called MVP and that she was a trainer there. She hounded me every time she saw me, ‘Chris, I want you to come to check out this organization; it’s great, and you should come to see it.’ I went to a meeting to support Brandi. Once I was there and heard members’ stories, I understood right away what their mission was, and I felt that I could contribute. I was the only former pro athlete in the room at the time. As the only former athlete representative, I wanted to show our veterans that I cared.” 

 When John Sterling, the Atlanta MVP Center coordinator, showed me a video about the program, I thought to myself: ‘This video sucks and they deserve a better video to deliver the MVP message.’ I offered to redo the video that included member interviews.” 

“At the meetings, I saw the hurt in the veterans’ eyes when they told their stories. I also saw hope in their eyes every time they showed up. Eventually, I saw smiles, laughter, and camaraderie. At this point in my life, I’m well adjusted and didn’t need this type of support personally, but I felt like I could help by being there for them even if it was just to listen and encourage them through their workouts. I also felt guilty because my transition was all about ego and how I ‘was not the man’ anymore. Their transition was on a deeper level than mine and more trauma involved, and even though I felt like my transition was less important than theirs, the members never made me feel less than equal to them, they opened my eyes. I saw a way to be of service to everyone—anyone in that room as a sounding board for them. Before I found MVP, I was only concentrating on myself.” 

“I find the combination of a workout and fireside chat brings everyone together in an intimate team setting. It’s a great team-building experience. The workouts allow members to let their guard down and to be more open later during the chats.” 

“As professional athletes, we’re accustomed to people wanting something from us; an autograph, a picture, money, etc. So it’s hard for us to trust people because we’ve been burned or used by those closest to us. We’re there for others and acting like a Superman for everyone. Even when we find ourselves needing help, it’s hard for a ‘Superman’ to admit he needs help. At MVP, you can put your guard down. You learn to humble yourself and let people help and guide you or, in my case, humble yourself so you can be of service to someone else.”