Tyrice Knight: From Lakeland to the League, and Nowhere Near Finished

Photograph by Zero Five Photography, styled by Polly Cocilobo, wardrobe by Sole and Style, shot at First Light Condos

Tyrice Knight knew he was different from the start. His first NFL jersey didn’t belong to a superstar or a hometown favorite. It had his name on it. A quiet declaration, from him, from his family, from the universe, that he was destined to wear it for real one day. Not flashy. Not loud. Just a kid from Lakeland, Florida, who grew up on backyard football and started playing before he even knew what pads were. “I was five or six when I started to play,” he says. “It was always in my life.”

Now he’s a linebacker for the Seattle Seahawks, and even with a quiet demeanor, his game speaks volumes. Knight doesn’t chase the big hit. He lets it come. “I’m a secure tackler,” he says. “Big hits? That’s cool, but I don’t chase them. I just make the tackle.” And he does. Over and over and over again.

But it’s the quiet grind that defines him. It’s the consistency. The belief that no matter where he is planted, he’ll grow. That mindset took him from Florida to Kansas, where he sharpened his grit, and from Kansas to Texas, where he found his rhythm at UTEP. Eventually, it led him to Seattle, where he stepped into the league not wide-eyed but ready. “I feel like I done seen everything,” he says. “So, moving to Seattle, it wasn’t too much of a change.”

The transition from college to the NFL hit him in waves. Not with the paycheck, surprisingly, but with the competition. “Everybody’s an athlete,” he says. “Everything’s faster. But once the game started slowing down for me, that’s when I really started balling. That’s when I knew I belonged.”

Wardrobe by Sole and Style

His focus now is on mastering the mental side. “Just slowing the game down in my head. When it’s slow, I’m dangerous.”

Knight’s story isn’t built on flash. It’s built on discipline. On drinking water. On watching the game films. On doing everything in the same order every single week. “I’m superstitious,” he says. “If I mess up the routine, I’ll be thinking about it all game.”

Off the field, he’s low key. He cooks or eats from the facility. He doesn’t Uber Eats much. He’s not about the hype until it’s time to travel or suit up. “If it were up to me, I’d wear slides every day,” he laughs. “But I can make anything work. Clothes, hair, whatever I do, I’m gonna look great.”

His favorite fit? Still unreleased. “It’s from Miami last weekend. Best one since I got drafted.”

Knight’s not just style. He’s vision. A traveler at heart, he’s already been to Paris and Bali (though they didn’t stamp his passport, to his dismay). He has a running list of 20 dream destinations in his Notes app. “Every year, I’m trying to knock off four,” he says. “All of them are passport stamps.”

That’s who he plays for. That’s who fuels the goals he sets, silently, in his notes each season. Goals like Pro Bowl, All Pro, Defensive Player of the Week. Goals like a $100M contract in five years. Goals like greatness.

Knight’s quiet confidence isn’t arrogance. It’s faith. It’s a belief. It’s rooted in a mantra he carries with him through every season, every hit, every comeback:

“Life isn’t tied with a bow,” he says. “But it’s still a gift.”

From Lakeland to Seattle, Tyrice Knight has lived that truth, embracing every pivot, every setback, and every unseen hour of work. His story is still being written. But one thing is certain. He’s not just here to play in the league. He’s here to leave his mark on it.

Suit by Sew Generously