In the world of sports and law enforcement, the name Christopher Pazan once conjured images of determination and achievement on and off the field. Today, that legacy has taken a dramatic twist. Pazan, 41, a former University of Illinois quarterback turned Chicago police officer, is now at the center of a stunning shoplifting scandal that has left the Windy City buzzing.
It was a seemingly ordinary afternoon at the Meijer store on South Western Avenue in Evergreen Park when Pazan, reportedly armed with a yard waste bag and perhaps a determination honed on the football field, allegedly attempted to make off with approximately $300 worth of baseball cards without paying. The sport of choice this time wasn’t football, but instead what might be a lesser-known favorite pastime—collecting treasured pieces of cardboard history. His alleged heist, captured by vigilant security cameras, involved slipping cards slyly into the bag—an ironic bout of subterfuge for a man sworn to uphold the law.
News of the arrest sent ripples through the Chicago Police Department, where Pazan has been stripped of his police powers pending a thorough internal investigation. A spokesperson confirmed that, before this incident, Pazan was rooted in the Morgan Park District and was detailed to the central investigations division—an irony not lost on some, as this division handles cases that include financial crimes. One could say, he might now understand the fraught minutiae of such investigations a little more intimately.
Before wearing the badge, Pazan carved a respectable path as a football player on Chicago’s legendary gridirons. An All-American quarterback for Brother Rice High School in Mount Greenwood, Pazan was once a beacon of athletic excellence, earning him a ticket to the University of Illinois. Although his collegiate career saw only a handful of starting games, his passion for football led him to coaching stints at Illinois and St. Joseph’s College. Eventually, however, his quest led him beyond the football field and into the realm of public service.
In an interview back in 2015, Pazan confessed to the Chicago Tribune that his pivot towards the police department stemmed from a desire “to do something more and to serve in a different capacity.” His service extended to joining the ranks of the Chicago Enforcers, a football league reserved for those who balance the rush of a game with the rigors of law enforcement—a testament to his unyielding competitive spirit.
However, beneath the surface of this decorated past, personal and financial tumult brewed. Despite his police salary of $111,804—excluding overtime—court documents reveal a litany of financial woes. Pazan is currently embroiled in a divorce, with a court date for a separate financial hearing inconveniently set on the very day of his card-collecting caper. His former attorney, Tania K. Harvey, is pursuing more than $5,800 in unpaid legal fees, a stark reminder of his ongoing monetary turbulence.
What emerges from these struggles is a portrait of a man possibly overwhelmed by financial chaos. To avoid tipping further into fiscal despair, Pazan’s legal team reports efforts to refinance his home in Beverly to address legal expenses and an impending settlement. It’s a strategy reminiscent of a last-ditch Hail Mary pass, meant to avert looming penalty flags in the form of financial repercussions.
Indeed, Pazan’s financial instability is not a novelty act. Last year, Fifth Third Bank attempted to resolve an over $4,000 debt from a loan, only to retreat when they couldn’t track him down. One year prior, JPMorgan Chase took him to court over a debt exceeding $15,000—a dispute he managed to settle by mid-2024. The question looms, if his financial straits have influenced behavioral shifts unexpected for a law enforcement officer.
The Chicago Police Department’s recruitment guidelines include checks for applicants with significant debts, aimed at weeding out those prone to corruption or susceptible to financial pressure—a safeguard Pazan initially circumvented.
Now facing a misdemeanor charge of retail theft, Pazan is scheduled to appear in court on June 23 in Bridgeview. How this parallel universe of sport and crime will resolve is anyone’s guess, but one thing is for sure: the story is as layered as the cards he allegedly tried to pocket. As Chicago’s legal and public complexion shifts with each passing court date, Pazan’s predicament offers a sobering reminder of the pressures that lurk beneath the badge and whistle, ever-ready to pop out when least expected.
