ASHBURN — Montez Sweat could tell by the tone of the text message that something serious had happened. This was more than a year ago when the Washington Commanders defensive end’s sister reached out to tell him that his aunt was coming over to his house and added that she loved him.
When his aunt Cecily arrived, she delivered the news: Sweat’s brother, Anthony, was murdered. Shot and killed at an apartment complex in Richmond, three days after Christmas.
Sweat could hardly move. At that moment, he desperately wanted to be with his sister and grandparents in Georgia. Instead, for the next few days, he sat in his bed and cried.
“I had to find a reason to live,” Sweat says.
As Washington’s season comes to an end Sunday with a game against the Dallas Cowboys, Sweat has spent the past year searching for — and finding — that reason. After losing his brother in December 2021 and his mom six months earlier to a brain aneurysm, the 26-year-old had hit one of the toughest periods of his life.
He dealt with his grief and adversity in part by focusing more intently than ever on football, turning in arguably the best year of his career this season with eight sacks, 14 tackles for loss and 28 quarterback hits.
But those close to the player say that perhaps the biggest impact of tragedy on Sweat’s life can be seen in how the often-reserved star has opened up to family, friends, teammates and coaches.
Coach Ron Rivera said he noticed how Sweat “integrated” himself with teammates, how he learned to cope in a “better fashion” as time passed.
Yvetta Sweat, Montez’s older sister, finds her brother checking in “way more often” these days. The two were always close, but their conversations have taken a different tone — a tenor in which Sweat and Yvetta won’t be shy to ask how they’re really feeling.
“You’re really not taught how to grieve or how to deal with death so closely,” Yvetta said. “It’s not anything that we’ve experienced thus far. Our mom was one form of grief — and of course that hurt — but a sibling, you just think you’re going to grow old together.
“And when that doesn’t happen, it catches you by surprise.”
‘Living out his dream’
Sweat learned to love football thanks to his big brother. Growing up in the Atlanta suburbs, he and Anthony started the sport at the same time. And in the early days, Sweat was struck by his brother’s passion for the game.
Naturally, wanting to be like Anthony, he learned to love it, too.
“I was kind of living out his dream in a sense,” Montez said.
Anthony, two years older, did not develop the same sort of physical gifts that helped his 6-foot-6, 262-pound brother become a 2019 first-round draft pick. Sweat jokingly says that as they grew up, he eventually became Anthony’s “little big brother.”
But if there was one thing especially clear to Sweat and his family — as much as Sweat looked up to Anthony — Anthony was equally as proud of his younger sibling. A glance at Anthony’s Instagram page confirms as much. After a dominating Thanksgiving win over Dallas two-plus years ago, Anthony posted a clip of his brother’s leaping pick-six of quarterback Andy Dalton and urged people to vote for Sweat to make the Pro Bowl. “Y’all wake up,” he wrote.
That sort of beaming energy was commonplace. Yvetta said Anthony was “a protector,” one who wouldn’t be afraid to light up kids on the football field if they went after Sweat. Anthony made clear that “nobody would mess with his brother at all,” she said.
“Anthony was the star of the show,” Yvetta says, laughing. “He had a smile that could light up any room. He’s more charismatic. Montez, he can be quiet. He doesn’t really like to talk as much.”
She’s now reminded of the dynamic when she sees Sweat and teammate Chase Young together. Young, like Anthony, can be, well, boisterous.
It’s a comparison that Young gladly embraces. The former defensive rookie of the year recalled how funny Anthony could be after getting to know him. Young shared a fond memory of how, when entering MGM National Harbor one night, he ran into the brothers on their way out — prompting a loud exchange right there in the casino.
When he learned of Anthony’s death, Young said he did everything he could to be there for Sweat.
“Me and ‘Tez, we got extremely close,” Young said. “I’m glad I can be that brother for him. That’s my dude.”
Trying to forgive
To cope with the death of his brother — to come to terms with the fact that he had been gunned down — Sweat often relies on what his mother would do. He opens up his Bible.
Ask Sweat and Yvetta about their mother Michelle and faith is the first thing they mention.
“She was a very Holy woman,” Sweat says. And she made sacrifices. Though her kids were born in Kentucky, Sweat’s mom realized that they could have a better life if they lived with their grandparents in Georgia. So they were in different states for the early part of their lives, until Michelle moved to be with them when they were teenagers.
In finding strength in his own faith, Sweat often turns to Hebrews 11.1 — a chapter of the New Testament that seeks to reassure the concept of faith itself. “The Bible talks a lot about forgiving,” Sweat says. “That’s something I’m still working on.”
Last January, the Henrico County police department made an arrest in Anthony’s murder. Shon Bloomfield, 47 at the time of his arrest, was charged with second-degree murder and the use of a firearm in commission with a felony. A preliminary hearing, according to court records, is set for next month.
Despite the arrest, Sweat has come to realize that grieving for his brother “never stops.” Instead, it’s something he realizes that he has to face and deal with going forward.
He said he has taken a lot of time for himself, trying to find ways he can use Anthony’s death as motivation. That doesn’t manifest necessarily in a sack or a tackle, but rather Sweat said he thinks about what Anthony — and his mother — would want him to do.
“I’m not the only one who has lost a close person in their life,” Sweat said. “But anytime that happens in someone’s life, they see (that it) can tear you down or it’s going to bring you back up in a sense.”
For Shiloh
Sweat’s first child, Shiloh, was born in June.
The defensive end has been with his partner Tiana for the past two years, and they landed on the name Shiloh in part because of its Biblical meaning — heavenly peace.
Becoming a father provided Sweat with another perspective — another “reason to live,” he says.
“It makes you look back on how you were brought up,” Sweat said. “And the love that I have now for my child, it’s like — ‘Damn.’ It sort of starts to make sense why your parents love you the way they did.
“It put the pieces of the puzzle together.”
Yvetta laughs when recalling how taken aback Sweat initially appeared to be with all the work that it takes to be a parent. But she has seen how her younger brother “lights up” when taking care of his son.
These days, Yvetta has noticed how her brother now has “more of a purpose.”
She remembered talking to him last month after Sweat was named an alternate to the Pro Bowl for the first time in his career — and how nonchalant he appeared to be.
Sweat, she said, shrugged off the accomplishment, disappointed that he wasn’t named to the actual roster. Yvetta told him that he had still done a great job, adding the accomplishment deserved to be celebrated.
The message might not have taken hold.
“I really just honestly want a lot more for myself,” Sweat said, “as my momma and my brother (would). Honestly, I feel like I’m just getting started.”
• Matthew Paras can be reached at mparas@washingtontimes.com.
Please read our comment policy before commenting.