Technical Recruiter at Robert Half Technology
Sept 2012 to Feb 2013
My specialty is placing infrastructure professionals including Network and System Administrators, Engineers, Help Desk, and Desktop Support to contract and contract-to-hire opportunities.
The alarm would go off at 4:15 every morning, jolting Chris Banjo awake. It was time to work — not the job he had, but the one he wanted. A football safety by trade, he’d conduct defensive back drills by himself to stay ready. For three hours, he’d grind, then, his work day, the one he got paid for, would start.
At 8 a.m., dressed in a suit and tie, he’d start his commute. He’d spend much of his day on the phone in an office where he felt he didn’t belong — his office was supposed to be the gridiron, but his phone wasn’t ringing for that. He tried out for the Pittsburgh Steelers and Oakland Raiders in rookie camp, but neither team wanted him, nor did the 30 others.
So he got a job, helping others find jobs, while hoping to find one for himself in the NFL. He’d finish up at the Robert Half Technology office around 5 p.m. and would make it home around 5:30 (6 if there was traffic), and then he’d work out again for another hour or two before bed.
He did that every day. Those days turned into weeks, weeks into months and his phone still wasn’t ringing. The wait took a toll. As the 2012 NFL season neared its end, Banjo still wasn’t finding any opportunities. He took a few weeks off to recharge. He never lost faith, but he admits doubt was starting to creep in. Still, he kept pushing.
In the spring of 2013, the Jacksonville Jaguars finally called and offered him a tryout — and then they signed him. The Jaguars cut him the day before training camp — but a few days later, the Green Bay Packers picked him up. And so started his nine-year sojourn through the NFL, four years with the Packers and then, crucially, three years with the New Orleans Saints. Banjo was a locker-room favorite and a leader on special teams.
In New Orleans, Banjo caught the eye of head coach Sean Payton, who took note of a player he thought carried himself differently. Banjo was a special-teams star first and foremost, one of the best gunners in the league, the kind opposing special teams coordinators would have to prepare for.
However, he played safety too and found himself gravitating toward his defensive backs coach in New Orleans. That coach carried himself differently, too, with a level of self-assuredness Banjo hadn’t seen before. He was direct, he laid out expectations, he held his players accountable, he coached them hard and he demanded results. However, he cared about them. Banjo would walk out of position meetings fired up, ready to take on anything.
A decade and another career change — from player to New York Jets special teams coordinator — later, Aaron Glenn, that coach, still evokes that feeling in him.
It was around 10:30 p.m. in January 2023 when Banjo received a call from Payton.
“He called me and he was like: ‘Hey, I’m in a hotel right now and I’m thinking about you,’ ” Banjo said.
Payton is known among friends in the business for his restless nights, football on his mind. He can’t fall asleep, so he makes calls. The Denver Broncos had just hired him, and he was putting together his coaching staff. Lying in bed in a Denver hotel room, Payton scrolled through his phone, looking through old rosters from his days in New Orleans.
“I’m looking at the ’06 Saints roster, I flip it to ’07, to ’08, to ’09, to 2010, and I (eventually) got to 2016,” Payton said. “I see ‘Chris Banjo’ and I’m like, That’s the one.”
Banjo (No. 31) left a lasting impression on teammates and coaches during his time in New Orleans. (Henry Browne / Getty Images)
Banjo had just wrapped up his ninth NFL season, his fourth with the Arizona Cardinals. He had planned to keep playing if the opportunity was there — after all, he’d been through, he wasn’t going to retire until the league told him it was time. He hadn’t thought about coaching, not yet at least, until Payton mentioned it.
It would be “highly unusual,” Payton says even now, for a player to jump right from playing into coaching. There’s usually a two-to-three-year gap; mentally, there’s a lot to overcome — specifically, accepting that it’s the end of your road as a player, recognizing the life that comes with being a coach, one full of long, often thankless hours. However, Payton always saw something in Banjo that intrigued him, enough that he remembered it years later.
Payton made his pitch. Banjo was intrigued, open to it.
“I was a little taken aback by it,” Banjo said. “But then he obviously got into the details of it, and I was like, now it makes sense.”
Three days later, Banjo interviewed for the job as Broncos assistant special teams coordinator. A week later, he was hired, joining a staff that would be led by two former Jets special teams coordinators in Ben Kotwica (the coordinator) and Mike Westhoff (assistant head coach).
Almost immediately, Payton knew Banjo made the right decision.
“There’s a presence in front of the room that he has,” Payton told The Athletic in January after the Jets hired Banjo. “Remember this conversation: He’s going to be a head coach.”
Kotwica didn’t know Banjo when Payton hired him in 2022, but he knew of him — he’d schemed to stop him during coaching stints with the Jets, Washington Commanders, Atlanta Falcons and Minnesota Vikings.
“Chris was definitely someone that popped on the tape,” Kotwica said.
Banjo was walking into a room with a wealth of experience between Kotwica and Westhoff, as well-regarded as any coach in that position over the last couple of decades, mainly because of what he accomplished as the Jets’ special teams coordinator from 2001-2012, surviving multiple coaching changes along the way.
Banjo hadn’t officially retired as a player when Payton called him, yet there he was, not long after that late-night phone call, as the Broncos coaching staff gathered for the first time, No. 2 on the special teams call sheet.
There was a lot of work to do. Before Payton’s staff arrived. Denver’s special teams unit had been one of the worst in the NFL, ranking 30th in EPA in 2022. “There was some formulating to be done,” Kotwica said. “There were a lot of conversations.”
In the early days, Banjo was in “receive mode,” Kotwica said, watching and learning from two veteran coaches. As time went on, Banjo’s contributions would become more interesting, more insightful — and more helpful. This is how I would see it when I was a player. This is the technique I would use in that situation. The players listened to him, and he could relate to them.
“Schematically, technically, and tactically and it’s just understanding how, as a coach, you put specific techniques and schemes to use and make them come to life on game day,” Kotwica said. “When you cross that line into coaching, you’re no longer peers with the players — you’re responsible for them, you’re in charge of them. There’s an element there where you mature from: ‘Hey, I just want to be liked’ to ‘Hey, I want to be respected,’ and I think Chris did a great job of that.”
At the end of long days, Banjo would bring his kids to the office, and the group — Kotwica, Banjo and the kids — would play games of hangman on the greaseboard.
Those were some of Kotwica’s favorite moments from the last couple of years; they often gave him the boost he needed to get through the long hours. Kotwica was fired this past offseason, just as Banjo departed for the Jets (soon after, Kotwica was hired as a special teams assistant by the Rams). He is proud of what he, Banjo and Westhoff accomplished together, turning around a bad special teams unit. In 2023, Denver was ranked 13th in special teams by Pro Football Focus and 10th in EPA — and jumped to third on PFF in 2024 and eighth in EPA.
“Now it’s his opportunity to take the foundation and build the house in the way he wants it to look,” Kotwica said.
In a Saints defensive back room full of highly decorated and highly drafted players, Banjo was always the one asking questions. It usually wasn’t for him — often, he already knew the answer to the question. But it always served a purpose: He wanted everyone to understand precisely what they were doing, and exactly what Glenn wanted out of them.
“He didn’t need to be the star,” said Sterling Moore, a former Saints defensive back and teammate of Banjo’s, both in the NFL and college at SMU. “He was selfless — he didn’t need to be the main character in the movie, that’s not his outlook, but he wanted the movie to be great.”
That stuck in Glenn’s mind, just like it once did in Payton’s, when he started to build out his Jets staff last winter.
Glenn and Banjo both grew up in the Houston area. Their paths to this place were, simultaneously, similar and disparate. Glenn was a first-round pick who started for the Jets as a rookie corner and made three Pro Bowls during a 15-year NFL career. His coaching career took a little longer to get going.
After retiring, he became a restaurateur, then a scout for the Jets for a couple of years before his first coaching job. He didn’t become a defensive coordinator for the Detroit Lions until he was 49.
“AG stuck to the grind, he did things the right way and he found his way,” Moore said. “That’s what Banjo did in his playing career.”
Banjo is only 35, and Glenn is entrusting him with a crucial job — it’s one of the fastest rises from player to coordinator in NFL history. However, Glenn wouldn’t have brought Banjo into the fold if he didn’t believe in his ability to do the job. Like Payton did, Glenn sees a bright future for his protégé.
“If you just get a chance to watch how he interacts with players, his ability to interact with a number of players in a team meeting setting, he does a really good job of that,” Glenn said. “He’s very energetic, he’s everything you want in a special teams coach. He’ll be one of the better coaches in the league — I know that for a fact.”
Banjo will stand up in front of players and media as a first-time coordinator. (John Jones / Imagn Images)
Banjo is learning from Glenn, just like he once did in New Orleans, about how to lead. He’s demanding in the same way as his boss, but they’re not the same person. Players and coaches could feel Banjo’s energy the first day they met him. Special teamer Kris Boyd said Banjo hugged him when they met.
“I love Banjo,” Boyd said. “My first impression was: That’s my guy. We’re gonna get on just fine.”
Banjo carries himself with a playful energy but, simultaneously, a level of seriousness; he’s ingratiated himself with the entire roster, not just the special teams unit.
There was a practice late in training camp during which star wide receiver Garrett Wilson put his helmet down on the ground and walked away from it. Banjo tiptoed over, grabbed the helmet and then tiptoed away. Wilson noticed the prank and chased Banjo briefly before Banjo gave it up. He laughed on his way back to the sideline.
“He’s got great energy, great juice and that’s big for the players to see,” said defensive backs coach Chris Harris. “The passion exudes off of him.”
At the first staff meeting, each coordinator stood in front of the room and explained what they were looking for in the players in their unit. Banjo emphasized the level of competitiveness and demeanor. Passing game coordinator Scott Turner, a veteran coach with a decade-and-a-half of NFL experience, was impressed with Banjo’s presence.
“You could tell how he was dialed in,” Turner said. “I’m not sitting in special teams meetings, but you see him on the field, the way he demands from the guys, and they respect him because they know he did it at a high level in this league.”
Defensive coordinator Steve Wilks remembered a day when he and Banjo were sitting together in the sauna, discussing leadership, coaching and how they wanted to “develop players and get the best out of them.” Wilks left impressed.
When Banjo speaks, it means more to the players too — because they understand how hard he worked to get to the NFL, how long he lasted there and how recently he played.
Rookie receiver Arian Smith is a rare type of player, the kind that Banjo wants in his room. Smith was Georgia’s No. 1 wide receiver last year but still maintained his role on punt coverage. He’s going to play a role on both offense and special teams for the Jets, too. However, Banjo has been hard on him, Smith said. He pushes him to take things seriously in meetings so he knows what he’s doing when he’s on the field — and he lets him know when he’s doing it wrong.
“He’s got juice,” Smith said. “That’s just somebody you want to play for. You lay it on the line for somebody like him. He’s the type of coach that, no matter what he tells me to do, no matter what he wants me to do, I’m going to do it for him. I feel his energy in meetings and I feel it on the field.
“He’s hard on me … he wants me to be the best I can be. I just know when I come out for practice and do something wrong and he’s yelling at me, he’s coming from a good place.”
In a special teams meeting during training camp, Banjo stood in front of the team and told them his story, about waking up at 4:15 in the morning to work out for three hours before a regular office job, all the time wondering whether he’d ever get his shot. He told them about how it felt when the Jaguars called him for a tryout. He told them about how he left the facility that day feeling good about his chances.
“He said: I ain’t never going back,” Boyd recalled.
“It’s inspiring,” said linebacker Jamien Sherwood.
Three years ago, he was in their position, grinding away at training camp in Arizona in the scalding summer heat. Now and then, he’ll show video from his time as a player, teach tape for his players and it throws him for a loop thinking about the whirlwind of the last few years.
“Whenever I do get a chance to just stop and think about that, it definitely is crazy,” Banjo said. “But I really just do my best to put one foot in front of the other and take it day by day. … It’s something I try to stress to the guys on the team right now, really, just being where your feet are.”
He still wakes up early every morning — for the job he wants.
(Top photo: Christian Petersen / Getty Images)