D.J. Swearinger knows why he’s back in Washington wearing the upstart colors of red and white, and not the more traditional burgundy and gold. More than four years ago, the last time he was here, he unloaded his frustrations in front of cameras and recorders following a tough loss. He would call that tough “love.” The Washington NFL franchise viewed it as a nuisance.
Before the season ended, Swearinger was released from Washington, his fourth team in five years. He went on to play 20 more games as a safety in the NFL, then his life continued as the league rolled on without him. He crossed over into his 30s, took up boxing and turned to near-daily therapy sessions. He also watched his namesake — the baby who had influenced him to add “Sr.” to his jersey nameplate — grow into an athletic and curious boy. While home in Davie, Fla., Swearinger assumed he was content with his life. He still had his money and his health; he was moving on. Then the XFL’s D.C. Defenders called.
“It’s very grounding,” Swearinger said the day before his home debut. “You’ve got to put your pride and ego to the side, I’ll say that. Just looking at it, nine years in the league, looking at the stuff I have, the blessings that I have, your ego and pride can look down on this league, but I wanted to put all that aside. It doesn’t matter about the money. It doesn’t matter about where it’s at. At the end of the day, what do I love to do? I love to play football, and if this is the opportunity that I have to play football, this is what I’m going to do, because I love it.”
His return to professional football has him playing again for the first time since Christmas Day 2020. And playing well. In two games with the Defenders, Swearinger has nine solo tackles. This past weekend, he returned an interception for a touchdown during the Defenders’ overtime win, with which they ensured a playoff game will be played at Audi Field.
Even more, his time with the Defenders has him thinking. Because when you’re 31 years old — too young to be retired, but too recycled for a league that grinds through bodies then spits them out — you start to think about life. He wants to make a comeback to the NFL. But that league, where he once wore a “C” on his chest, hasn’t called. He knows why.
“It raises a flag to them when they see I’ve been in the league nine years and have been on six different teams,” Swearinger said, referencing NFL coaches and general managers. “I think their question is why can’t I stick to a team [for] more than two years?”
The league that Swearinger loves might not necessarily adore a player such as him, even if his on-field persona fits right in with the game’s glorified brutality.
“I play a violent game. Big hits, I talk a little trash,” he said, “The game is beautiful to me.”
Swearinger likes to think of himself as the lion, the most dominant force in the jungle — it’s where he gets his social media moniker, “JungleBoi_Swag.”
But that dominance did not help when Swearinger wanted to use his voice, not his violence. Before the 2017 season, his first with Washington, when teammates voted Swearinger captain, he took the role seriously and felt he could challenge the men in the room, coaches included. Often, these confrontations made their way into his sound bites.
Admittedly, Swearinger’s delivery was a bit too raw, and looking back, he understands why coaches wanted him to keep his pointed thoughts in-house. But according to Swearinger, everything that he unloaded to the media — Washington’s poor practice habits, problematic play-calling, the claim that he probably watched more film than some coaches — he would also say directly to the men in charge. By December 2018, one game before the conclusion of his second season with Washington, Swearinger was cut by then-head coach Jay Gruden.
“When I would say certain things in the media, [Gruden] would think I was taking shots at him and I would tell him face to face: ‘I’m trying to help you, coach. I’m not here to bad-mouth anybody. I’m trying to help you to help our team win,’” Swearinger said. “Everything that I’ve done in this league always came from love and … that can be misunderstood in a lot of different ways with how I approach the game. My fiery ways, a little rough around the edges, but like I said, it always comes from a loving manner.”
In 2019, Swearinger bounced around on three teams. The next year, the covid-interrupted 2020 season, he appeared in 11 games with the New Orleans Saints and said he found men there such as head coach Sean Payton and his position coach, Aaron Glenn, who respected his voice. Swearinger spent part of the 2021 season on the Indianapolis Colts’ practice squad and earned praise for his mental grasp of the game. Teams can track how much video study a player consumes and “after that first week, [Colts coaches] came to me and [said]: ‘Man, you watch a whole lot of film!'”
But last season, Swearinger did not receive another contract. After nine years and 73 starts, he was effectively out of the NFL.
He poured himself into boxing training camps, with the hopes of turning to combat sports for his physical fix, but he missed marrying his strength with his mind. He missed the game, its thrills and complexities. Around that time, he noticed his mood swings, which he does not describe as depression. He reached out for help and ultimately found three therapists: a female therapist who could give him a woman’s perspective, one male therapist for guidance and one for strictly spiritual matters.
“I don’t think I went into a dark hole or anything, but I would be more snappy at certain things. [Being out of the league] definitely had an effect on me,” he said. “Those three people helped me a whole lot.”
Several weeks back, Swearinger was helping his 5-year-old son prepare to compete in a 100-meter dash. That’s when the boy said he wished he could watch Swearinger play in a football game one day. Later that evening, the Defenders, who had reached out several times before, called again. This time, Swearinger said yes.
His return to pro football, in a league that launched a week after the Super Bowl, has Swearinger playing with guys who only made it to training camps, along with other fallen stars who endured similar abrupt endings in the NFL. But he doesn’t use the word “humbling,” a word he doesn’t like. He prefers “grounding,” which helps him realize why he’s back in Washington. And he has no regrets in wearing the colors of the Defenders.
“I’m a more mature guy. I’m five … years way more mature then I was in 2018,” he said. “Would I handle that interview different now? Yes, I would, but I don’t regret how I handled it then because I learned lessons, and lessons make the man. So I wouldn’t change nothing.”