One of a kind: Friends, colleagues remember what made Terez Paylor so special
In March 2013, not long after I started at The Star, I accompanied Terez Paylor on a trip to cover Mizzou in the NCAA Tournament in Lexington, Kentucky. (If you’re going to be stuck in a car with someone for eight hours, you could do a hell of a lot worse than hearing Terez’s music impressions. To this day, there are a handful of songs I can’t hear on the radio without his voice popping into my head.)
Mizzou lost to Colorado State that night, and sometime around 1 a.m., after having filed a couple of sidebars, I packed up my stuff and headed to the hotel lobby. I was the second to last person to leave press row.
Terez finished at 4 a.m.
He wrote. He recorded some video. And he wrote some more.
This business is full of hard workers. It’s a job that requires you to miss weddings, graduations, milestone moments. Terez epitomized that. He grinded, man. Every job Terez got, he earned. To borrow one of his phrases, you can believe that.
Terez died unexpectedly Tuesday. He was 37.
He worked at The Star for 12 years — from a high school sports reporter to the Mizzou beat to the Chiefs beat — before moving on to Yahoo Sports.
He loved what he did. You could see it in his work. In his mock draft. In his All-Juice teams. He had a wide smile and infectious laugh. When you heard it, you had to join in, even if you had absolutely no idea what had gotten him. I can hear the laugh as I’m typing this. It’s about all that can make me smile today. You’ll be so missed, my friend.
When you asked Terez for advice, he didn’t simply oblige; he’d break into a full motivational speech, a la Al Pacino in Any Given Sunday. God, he’d love that reference.
To know Terez professionally was to be influenced by his work ethic and sheer passion for what he did. I’ve worked harder every day since that trip to Lexington. That’s forever part of his legacy.
To know Terez personally was to be surrounded by joy and laughter. It felt impossible — impossible — to be in a bad mood when you were in his presence.
We had that privilege. You all should, too. Here is a collection of our favorite stories, memories and impressions of Terez.
Herbie Teope, Chiefs beat writer, The Star
I am greatly saddened to learn that one of my best friends Terez Paylor passed away. From my first go around on the Chiefs beat, we sat next to each other in the media room. We started off as heated competitors before quickly becoming close friends because we discovered we had so much in common professionally and personally. Everyone knows of Terez’s legendary competitive desire and work ethic; I saw all of that. I also saw the other side of Terez as a great man, passionate about life and his deepest love for Ebony Reed.
Terez made everyone around him a better person and could light up a room with his tremendous sense of humor and brightest of bright smiles. From us dancing to Bobby Brown songs when it was just the two of us in the Chiefs media room to harmonizing New Edition songs at the NFL Scouting Combine every year, I will cherish so many fond personal memories of my friend, my brother. I will deeply miss Terez.
(Herbie also wrote the news story on Terez’s death.)
Blair Kerkhoff, sportswriter, The Star
Terez was assigned to cover the Kansas state baseball championship, and had his weekend planned out. He’d cover the final on Saturday and would start a vacation the next day. Except weather delayed the tournament and pushed the final to Sunday. My son was playing in the game and I told Terez I’d cover the game so he could start his break. No way. Terez delayed his vacation to cover the championship. His byline is on the stories in our scrapbook.
The forerunner to SportsBeat Live, where the beat writers and columnists get together to talk about the Chiefs, was essentially Terez hosting Red Zone Extra, and he was a natural. Or so he made it seem. Terez never came up short on topics, spot-on observations or humor. Turned out, after he was finished with his daily duties covering the Chiefs, he’d spend hours in the evening preparing for the show. He’d show me his legal pad, pages of notes he had filled only hours earlier. The same prep work came through with his Yahoo podcast with Charles Robinson, my go-to NFL observation.
After a year of this, he was doing standup interviews with Chiefs players after practice. With Star photographer Dave Eulitt running the camera, Terez would conduct a 10-minute interview with Jeremy Maclin or Terrance Mitchell or Charandrick West.
The training camp video report started with Terez, standing in front of a banner under the tent, Terez, in his bucket hat, would provide a 3-minute breakdown of that day’s practice. It was must-see viewing.
From Terez, I learned such ideas as “the contract year is undefeated,” and nobody spent more time studying the NFL Draft, breaking down tape and having a notecard on hundreds of players. The Chiefs were going to draft six or seven. Terez had something to say about every player taken by every day. His first year covering the Chiefs he did eight mock drafts for The Star.
When Marcus Peters was traded, and Alex Smith—a story that Terez broke—he held “emergency Red Zone Extras,” to bring immediacy to the fan reaction.
We loved Terez’s imitations so much, we would imitate Terez imitating people like Andy Reid, Dee Ford, Al Pacino and Gordon Lightfoot. That’s right, Gordon Lightfoot, the Canadian singer-songwriter famous for “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” In the Chiefs press room, with very little encouragement, Terez would break into song. (“They sailors all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay if they put 15 more miles behind herrrrr.”) Dead on.
There was “Red” from Shawshank Redemption. Terez loved reciting the life philosophies from the Morgan Freeman character.
And of course, his love of NFL Films and the narrator John Facenda. Raiders Week means something to Chiefs fans, it meant something completely different to Terez, who several times would recite, The Autumn Wind is a Raider” from NFL films. Once, after a Chiefs game we covered in Oakland, we started the show by humming the NFL Films theme song.
He said he would have become a high school football coach if he didn’t go into sportswriters. He could picture himself coaching the offensive line and teaching the thankless position to teenagers. I always thought he would have thrived at this.
Vahe Gregorian, columnist, The Star
(This is a snippet of Vahe’s full column.)
I like to think he knew how very loved he was all over this land: from his hometown of Detroit to his alma mater of Howard University in Washington, D.C., and surely all across the NFL in his job with Yahoo Sports.
It was Terez’s idea a few years ago to start calling our Chiefs’ coverage group the “A-Team,” and it tells you something about how he was the glue and the catalyst that we always figured we were just “a team” when he left.
For a while, I had misgivings about keeping the name. But now I figure it’s a nice little tribute to him that we should keep in perpetuity.
Not that we need the symbolism, exactly: Given the devastation all of us at The Star felt Tuesday and the indelible imprint he left, I truly know he’ll live forever within us.
Such sudden loss is unbearable, and we especially grieve for his family and fiancee Ebony Reed, and we’re all a long way from finding any solace right now.
Sam Mellinger, columnist, The Star
(This is a snippet of Sam’s full column.)
Terez was so damn smart, both intellectually and with people. He knew his writing was raw when he started here. We talked about that. He asked a million questions to a hundred writers. He studied. He worked. Before you knew it, he was excellent, pridefully planning and producing long features. He did that, with sweat.
Terez’s genius had nothing to do with turning a phrase, though. He knew football and the people who loved it. He built and executed a plan that quickly made him one of America’s best football beat writers — an enormously competitive field.
I don’t know how many people are so good at what they do, yet remain so eager to get better. I don’t know how many people can carry a confidence that could border on arrogance, and be the first to make fun of themselves. He had a confidence you could feel the first time you talked to him, and a gift to transfer that confidence to you.
Jeff Rosen, assistant managing editor/sports, The Star
Terez was the best kind of friend and journalist: always looking to improve and unfailingly loyal and honest.
His laughter filled a room and anyone who met him became an immediate fan.
He took The Star’s coverage of the Chiefs to new heights because he connected with people. He introduced us to the All-Juice Team, wildly entertaining and informative videos and truly insider storytelling.
One of his proudest moments as a journalist was breaking the news of Alex Smith’s trade to Washington in early 2018. He worked hard to land that story and took immense pleasure in beating the national guys on it.
We were all very proud of him, too, but he’d already long since earned my personal admiration. His friendship was something I treasured.
I will miss him dearly for the rest of my life.
Mike Fannin, president and editor, The Star
I hired Terez when he was practically a kid, and what I remember from those days was his affinity for all things Detroit and his hunger to learn everything about being a world-class sports reporter. He set some huge goals in his time with The Star — and he reached every one of them. His legacy only grew after he went to Yahoo.
Sports journalism has lost one of its most insightful and important voices. And I have lost a friend.
Tod Palmer, KSHB, formerly The Star
Terez was the picture of professionalism as we were cutting our teeth on the high school beat at The Star, but more than that I never met someone who didn’t like Terez — nor would I have trusted such a fool.
He had a great sense of humor, even if he didn’t always show that side early in his career. Meanwhile, I am a chatterbox and forever making jokes, which irritates a lot of people. But not Terez.
He used to say he was 30% less productive when I was around. To which I would always counter, “Yeah, but you have at least 30% more fun, so it’s worth it.”
He’d reluctantly agree, “Yeah, you’re right. I do have more fun, and I need that sometimes.”
Now, following him on the Mizzou beat wasn’t fun, because nobody can stack up to Terez, certainly not me, though he never ceased to offer encouragement and counsel. We were proud to support and cheer each other, both personally and professionally and through some of life’s toughest times.
My enduring memory is that Terez had a gutteral belly laugh that made every attempt of mine to tickle his funny bone worth it — and I’ll always cherish our time together in morning meetings with the high school staff, covering state wrestling or the KU Relays, in the press boxes at Kauffman and Arrowhead, or sharing a meal.
He was the best of us and I am, and always will be, grateful to call him a friend. Rest in peace, TP1. I simply can’t believe that you’re gone.
Rustin Dodd, The Athletic, formerly The Star
Back in the early 2010s, when Terez and I were both covering high school sports in Kansas City, we used to spend hours together in the Kauffman Stadium press box, just talking about sports and journalism and life. Terez was one of the most infectious personalities — and best conversationalists — I’ve ever met.
He radiated energy and good vibes. He had this thing where he’d get so dramatically worked up about Michigan football or some Detroit Tigers season from his childhood, then just break into laughter.
The thing was, Terez didn’t even really need to be out there writing a Royals notebook. In those days, he wrote a million high school stories per week, he covered the Kansas City Wizards with passion when hardly anyone cared, he worked harder than anyone I knew. (Years later, when Terez was dominating the Chiefs beat and becoming one of the best NFL writers in the country, I remember him once telling me: “I’m really into dues-paying.”)
But Terez was out writing a Royals notebook in the middle of the summer because he cared. That was just who he was. Just a few days ago, after the Super Bowl, I was talking to some friends about the business and various career paths nowadays, and for some reason, I thought about Terez and just how hard he used to work. I loved texting Terez random questions about the Chiefs. I love how much he loved talking about Shawshank Redemption and Rudy and all these 90s movies we grew up on.
But mostly, I just loved talking to him. About anything. He just put you at ease. The conversation just flowed. If you ever had a problem at work or in life, he was there to get worked up on your behalf — in classic Terez fashion. He would say something that would make you feel better. He’d make you laugh. It sounds cliche to say that everybody loved Terez, but it was just impossible not to.
Greg Farmer, managing editor, The Star
What I’ll remember most is that laugh. Terez laughed and made me laugh with such ease that I often just reached out because I knew he’d give me the moment of levity I needed to get through that day. As for working alongside him, to say we loved him would be a terrible understatement. Everyone knows he was immensely talented. But what those of us lucky enough to know him will remember is how kind and gracious and passionate he was. He loved the work, but he loved people more. And people loved him back.
Pete Grathoff, sportswriter, The Star
No one loved football like Terez Paylor.
You’ve heard that people eat, drink and sleep the things they are passionate about, right? Well, Terez took it a step further: he listened football.
A few years back, Terez came to the office one day during the offseason to do some work and meet with our bosses. I stopped over to say hi, and Terez took off his headphones. After a few minutes, I realized I could make out the music that he had been playing. It was the classic NFL Films soundtrack to highlights.
Terez confirmed that was what he was listening to and said it helped him focus on the task at hand. No one does that, right?
The other part of this story: Terez didn’t hesitate to shed the earphones to talk. I wasn’t part of Terez’s inner circle of friends, but we always took the time to stop and chat, whether it was at a game or simply via email. He had a big, happy heart that was full of love. He will be missed.
Candace Buckner, Washington Post, formerly The Star
Terez was the hardest working guy I’ve ever known. That’s not an exaggeration. He just cared deeply about every assignment he had and there will never be another Kansas City Star preps reporter, Mizzou reporter or Chiefs reporter at The Star who hustled like Terez. It doesn’t make sense to write thoughts out like this. He was only 37 years old. He should have been at Super Bowl CV because everyone knows Terez is the type of guy who would work into his 90s if he could. He was my good friend and I loved him.
Dave Skretta, AP sportswriter in KC
There was nobody covering Kansas City sports, and the Chiefs in particular, that was more loved and respected than Terez. His smile lit up the entire room. And if you didn’t happen to see it, you wouldn’t have missed the booming laugh that usually followed. It didn’t matter whether it was Andy Reid or the intern in the PR office, Terez had this unique ability to connect with people on a personal level. We are all going to miss him as a colleague, but more than that, as one of our very dear friends.
Ryan Young, former co-worker at The Star
In 15 years in this business across four different companies over three different time zones, I’m not sure I’ve ever worked with anybody who took more pride in their craft or who put in more energy and effort than Terez. We were hired a couple months apart in the summer of 2006 as high school sports reporters. The Star was such a great place for sports journalism, and we both knew how fortunate we were to have landed there fresh out of college. If waking up every morning and reading some of the best sportswriters in the country wasn’t enough daily motivation, Terez and I pushed each other further. It was inspiring to work alongside another with the same drive and aspiration. It was also always competitive — Terez made sure of that! -- yet he always felt like a teammate at the same time. That’s because his sincerity as a person was always forefront.
It came as no surprise whatsoever to see him reach such heights in his career — or to see his personality endear him to so many who followed his work. Anyone who was fortunate enough to know Terez will always remember his booming laugh and disarming smile, and he shared that side of himself not only with his friends but with his audience as well. The word indelible may get overused, but if ever it applied ...
We ran into each other at a football game at Stanford a couple years ago. I was there to cover USC, and he was there just to get a look at some potential draft prospects because he happened to be in the area and saw an opportunity to do even more work. He was just relentlessly committed to being great at what he did, and he achieved it. There was simply no other career trajectory Terez could have had but consistently up — he made certain of that. A year ago I had him on a podcast and we found our way to reminiscing about sitting in the sports meeting room in the old Star building debating (battling) over picks for the high school All-Metro teams. I don’t remember the details all these years later, but I’m sure he prevailed more often than not. In reflecting back on it, he laughed that big, pure laugh, which made me laugh and smile in turn. We talked about doing lunch the next time he was in Los Angeles. I wish that could have happened, but I’m thankful to have many other memories from those years in Kansas City. If there’s any comfort at all to be had in trying to process this gut-punching, tragic news, it’s knowing that he achieved everything he had aspired toward way back then. Terez left his mark — on this business, on his audience and on his friends — and he will be so greatly missed.
Cole Young, former co-worker at The Star
My memories of Terez came when he was fresh to the Star from Howard University in May 2006.
Fresh from D.C., he still had one of those steering wheel clubs on his passenger floorboard for the first few months we knew each other.
Immediately I realized he had an eye for talent. I’ll never forget during one of our Monday morning high school meetings it came time to nominate our Athletes of the Week. He sat back, smiled and announced he’d found our athlete for the next four years.
“There’s a kid out in Gardner, Derek Starling, but out in Gardner he just goes by Bubba,” he said.
That may have been the first time Bubba Starling’s name was ever in The Star.
One night in particular stands out with Terez. Randomly on a Wednesday night we ended up going to a KU game along with Ryan Young and Brady McCollough. Arm and arm, four guys (one of which would become the KU beat writer a couple months later) stood in the student section at Allen Fieldhouse singing the alma mater. We finished the night at a casino playing blackjack. Terez all the while doing his Herm Edwards impersonations to the point I’m not sure any of us were paying attention to the cards.
We’ll miss you, friend.
This story was originally published February 9, 2021 at 5:06 PM.