The final moment Brandon Graham was in full uniform, he was doing what he loved: holding court.
The thunderous soundtrack of the post-game Super Bowl scene couldn’t suppress Graham’s voice. What could ever quiet that man’s iconic cackle? Deemed a bust after his first two seasons, Graham got the last laugh after 15 years. All of them were spent with the Philadelphia Eagles. They, too, once drew nationwide jeers. Always the George Halas Trophy and never the Lombardi. But by the end of their grizzled and gray-bearded giant’s career, the Eagles won the big one twice — once by Graham’s own hand.
Tom Brady still remembers that strip-sack in Super Bowl LII. Graham won’t let him forget it. Brady, now a broadcaster for Fox Sports, was standing on the sideline before a December game at Lincoln Financial Field when Graham greeted Brady from behind by recreating their famous encounter. Brady, grinning, sacked him back. “Couldn’t have happened to a better guy,” Brady said then. That sentiment supplied the theme for Graham’s final months as an Eagles edge rusher.
Graham wasn’t supposed to be sitting there wearing No. 55 after Super Bowl LIX at all. He’d fought back tears on WIP-FM days after tearing his triceps on Nov. 24, thinking his farewell tour had reached an unceremonious end. But the Eagles kept winning. Graham kept rehabbing. Then, accepting the risk of a re-tear, Graham strapped on a brace and played 13 snaps in a Super Bowl the Eagles won by defensive dominance. They pulverized Patrick Mahomes with a platoon of pass rushers that’s becoming ever-younger — a litter of pups raised by one of Philly’s most beloved underdogs. Before Jalen Hurts pulled Graham away from reporters by the shoulder pads, Graham offered a quote that will last.
“I’m glad they got this experience,” Graham said then. “Because now they know what it takes.”
It takes a goodbye to begin the next era. Graham announced his retirement Tuesday afternoon, yet another ceremonial moment for yet another franchise image-bearer who’s handing the reins to the next generation. Jason Kelce. Fletcher Cox. Now Graham. The average age of the eight edge rushers remaining under contract is now 25. Josh Uche, 26, attended Michigan, Graham’s alma mater, and referred to Graham, 36, as “what you call a real O.G. in the game.” Nolan Smith, 24, stood in the back of the auditorium and watched Graham read his speech on the stage, bookended by the two Lombardi trophies won during his tenure. The past and the present had already shared a private moment together. Smith, whose slow start in 2023 and subsequent flourishing in 2024 was all too similar to Graham’s trajectory, received parting guidance before the press conference began.
“Hey man, this your room,” Graham told Smith. “Now you the guy. You the oldest guy in that room. So, let’s go out there. Let’s go take care of business.”
It takes indefatigable dedication. Graham spent his formative years sweating in sweltering training camp practices at Lehigh University, swatting and straining himself against Jason Peters and Winston Justice — Philadelphia’s most imposing blockers at the end of the Andy Reid era. Graham committed to the grind with an unwavering grin. Through six contracts across 15 seasons, Graham only missed 29 games. Practices felt incomplete without his presence. When reporters took attendance, Graham was someone you heard before you saw. And when you saw him, he was pounding sleds at full speed, battling blockers as a worthy foil, jawing at offensive teammates at full volume or leaning into the ears of defenders who needed counsel. Nick Sirianni was the final coach to encourage and harness Graham’s infectious energy. Graham embraced the role, even when his mood tried to steer him elsewhere.
“I always try to smile because you never know who needs it,” Graham said.
It takes skin thicker than concrete. Graham believed in the distinct influence of the Philly fan base and the local media. He once told me, “I feel like the outside world can kind of almost make the first pick of the draft.” Headlines and hot takes, commenters and callers — they all initially cast Graham as a pariah early in his career. Graham used the derision as motivation entering 2012, his breakout season, and he gradually strong-armed narratives into submission. Some athletes adopt a cold persona after conquering doubters. Graham instead worked on being jovial. He initially blocked all his critics on Twitter. Then, after Super Bowl LII, Graham allowed a reporter access into his account to unblock everyone. Since then, Graham accepted criticism and merrily gave it right back. If you were a reporter waiting to enter the locker room after a game the Eagles won and Graham walked past, he’d point at you, cackle and shout, “I told you!” — even if you’d picked them to win. During daily locker room access, it became Graham’s routine to waltz in and holler, “Locker room’s closed!”, mimicking a PR staffer, although there were usually 30 minutes left for interviews.
“Winning that Super Bowl, the way it happened, that helped,” Graham said. “But, like I say, them conversations, and knowing you’re not going to make everybody happy, so stop trying.”
It takes humility and the willingness to move on from mistakes. Graham wasn’t immune from igniting his own forest fires. Ever effusive, honest to a fault, sometimes too willing to comment on things beyond his range of knowledge, Graham sometimes stoked flames with his own words. He comedically referred to it Tuesday as “the ups and downs of me saying some stuff.” In December, Graham gave an on-air apology after saying Jalen Hurts and A.J. Brown were friends “but things have changed.” Both Hurts and Brown forgave Graham and publicly cleared the air on the actual state of their relationship. Graham laughed that he’s “happy to not have the stresses of y’all no more,” that he’ll avoid weeks where he can’t watch TV “because I said this.”
“Those little things, I’m excited to get away from,” Graham said. “But I’m gonna miss every single thing about it.”
It takes a passion that doesn’t easily let go. Graham said that if he hadn’t played in Super Bowl LIX, he would’ve been “begging to come on back” for one more season. (Although he confirmed he re-tore his triceps in the Super Bowl.) Graham experienced a revival under defensive coordinator Vic Fangio, totaling 2.5 sacks and four tackles for loss in the three games leading up to his triceps tear. I asked Fangio if he thought Graham had another year in him. “I do,” Fangio said then. “He can’t retire on an incomplete year.” It’d be surprising to see Graham stray too far from the NovaCare Complex. The Eagles employ former edge rusher Connor Barwin in player development, and Kelce still often makes visits to the facility. Graham said he’s going to sit down with Eagles owner Jeffrey Lurie at some point and “figure out what I can do to be a part of what’s going on.” After Graham’s weekly appearances on WIP-FM as a player, it’d be fitting and somewhat ironic to see Graham somewhere in the media landscape.
“I ain’t gotta be all in one basket,” Graham said. “… I don’t want to just cold turkey leave the game, because I love it.”
It takes a focus on the things that actually matter. Graham addressed his wife, Carlyne, from the stage. “When the world only saw the player, you saw the man,” he said. He addressed his 9-year-old daughter, Emerson, and 6-year-old son, Bryson. He reminded Bryson why he’s got to get up first in the house. “Nobody going to go get it for you. You’ve got to get it for yourself.” Graham might as well have been quoting his mother, Tasha, who’d instructed him, “don’t be like everybody else.” That’s why Graham doesn’t have tattoos or piercings, although he wanted them. “Be different,” she’d say. That’s what he’ll unquestionably continue to do. In a way only Graham could, he spread his arms like wings and spelled out the Eagles chant one last time.
“Fly Eagles fly,” he smiled. “My last one. B.G. out, baby.”
(Photo: Ronald Martinez / Getty Images)
