In an unexpected twist that could rival any crime novel, Christopher Pazan, once a promising quarterback on the sunlit fields of Illinois and now a stalwart of the Chicago police force, finds himself at the heart of a scandal involving the alleged theft of something as unusual as baseball cards. It sounds almost satirical, a bizarre combination of sports, law enforcement, and collectible hobbies wrapped into an unlikely tale of petty theft.
Pazan, who is now charging down a very different field than he used to, was apprehended in Evergreen Park on accusations that would make any baseball card enthusiast wince. The still unfolding drama began when he was allegedly caught on camera by a sharp-eyed security guard at a Meijer store—a game-changing move in retail defense. The watchdog’s keen observation spotted Pazan tucking away around $300 worth of baseball cards into a yard waste bag, a somewhat ignominious container for such a prized catch. He paid only for the bag, forsaking the more valuable contents as he made his way to the door, but not before joining the perennial parchment club for an unceremonious exit.
As fate would have it, the same hands that once cradled pigskins tightly enough to capture attention on Illinois’ fields are now accused of clandestinely clutching card packs. While in a quarterback sneak, Pazan might have slipped past defenses, in the realm of retail theft, his tactics were evidently less successful.
Indeed, the consequences of this unusual interception are far-reaching. The Chicago Police Department has taken stern action by stripping him of his policing powers pending an internal investigation, a harsh penalty for a run at poor decision-making. Previously a dedicated officer in the Morgan Park District and a detail in the central investigations division, his badge is now on a temporary timeout.
This isn’t the first twist in Pazan’s varied career. Once an All-American quarterback at Brother Rice High School, his athletic feats earned him a place in the University of Illinois football spotlight. Though his collegiate football career was not without its bumps, including stints on the bench and as a coach at Illinois and St. Joseph’s College, the transition from football to badge-toting civil service was inspired by his desire to refill his passion for service beyond athletic endeavors.
Notably, Pazan’s journey into law enforcement came with a desire to serve in a new capacity, as he shared in a 2015 chat with the Chicago Tribune. Joining the Chicago Enforcers, a police football league team, must have offered a semblance of continuity. Yet, despite his illustrious $111,804 police salary excluding overtime, financial windstorms have marked Pazan’s recent life.
Behind this seemingly spur-of-the-moment decision to pilfer baseball cards lie ongoing financial woes—encompassing a turbulent divorce and escalating legal fees. According to recent court documents, difficulties are compounded by unpaid legal debts, including an outstanding bill of over $5,800 owed to his former lawyer, Tania K. Harvey. The financial duress has led him towards the arduous process of home refinancing in Beverly, a move necessitated by the mounting cost of legal and settlement expenses.
Perhaps the clue to Pazan’s lapse in judgment lies in these financial tribulations, a pattern with echoes from the past. Fifth Third Bank tried and failed last year to collect on due debts after failing to locate him, and a JPMorgan Chase settlement for more than $15,000 was only just resolved by the summer of 2024, underscoring persistent fiscal instability.
In light of such money mishaps, the decision by hiring committees to scrutinize the financial backgrounds of police recruits seems prescient. The aim is clear: mitigate risks involving officers who, under monetary stress, might find themselves susceptible to corruption or illegal knickknacks.
As the clock ticks down to Pazan’s court appearance on June 23 in Bridgeview, the public will eagerly watch for the next turn in this unconventional story. While an ill-considered attempt to score an underhand touchdown in retail theft courts destiny, the impact of this game-changing moment will be measured both by the law and the man’s ability to rise above the shadows of his financial struggle—perhaps with the same grit that saw him through countless fourth quarters on the gridiron.
