Mental Health and Murder: The Jovan Belcher Case

Foreign fans.

I'm your host, Judy, and you're listening to Fangirl Crime.

Today.

I'm covering a case that sent shockwaves through the NFL and forever changed how we think about athlete mental health, brain injuries and the dark side of America's favorite sport.

This is the story of Kansas City Chiefs linebacker Jovan Belcher and the tragic murder suicide that left a young mother dead, a three month old baby girl orphaned, and an entire sports community questioning everything they thought they knew about player safety.

I need to warn you, this episode contains detailed discussions of domestic violence, suicide, traumatic brain injury and mental health issues.

Please take care of yourself and feel free to skip this one if these topics are triggering for you.

Let's start at the end.

Not the beginning of Jovan's life.

We'll get there, but the beginning of the end.

It's December 1, 2012, a crisp Saturday morning in Kansas City, Missouri.

The kind of morning where your breath makes little clouds in the air and the grass is still crunchy with frost.

The sun hasn't been up long and most people are just starting their weekend.

But for 25 year old Jovan Belcher and 22 year old Cassandra Perkins, this morning would be their last.

Just before 8am that morning, Joven pulls into the Chief's practice facility parking lot.

And what happens next still gives me chills.

Think about this scene.

He steps out of his car holding a handgun to his head.

Chiefs general manager Scott Pioli is already there because it's totally normal for management to be working on a Saturday before a game.

But what's not normal?

Finding your starting linebacker in the parking lot with a gun to his head.

Scott Pioli and head coach Romeo Krennell are now desperately trying to talk Jovan down.

Police sirens are wailing in the distance, getting closer and closer.

But Jovan, he just keeps saying, I got to go.

I can't be here.

And then he does something that haunts me.

He kneels down beside his car, makes the sign of the cross and pulls the trigger.

But crime fans, if you think that's tragic, and it absolutely is, wait until you hear what happened earlier that morning.

Because this, this was actually the second act of violence Jovan committed that day.

Thirty minutes earlier, Jovan pulls up to his home on the 5400 block of Chrysler Avenue in his black Bentley.

The house is a beautiful two story building that he bought after signing his second contract with the Chiefs.

It should have been a symbol of success, of the American dream.

Instead, it was about to become a crime scene.

Now, from the investigation we know that the night before, both Jovan and Cassandra had been out separately.

Cassandra was at a Tres Songs concert with friends, enjoying a rare night out since becoming a mom.

Jovan was at the Tango Said Cantina, a popular spot in the Power Amp Light District, with a different group of friends.

It should have been normal enough, right?

Just two young parents having separate nights out with friends.

But here's where things get complicated.

According to friends who were with Jovan that night, he'd been drinking heavily.

One friend later told police that Jovan had confided in them about relationship problems, saying things.

When Cassandra got home around 1am Jovan wasn't there.

According to cell phone records, they exchanged several texts, some of them argumentative.

Jovan didn't come home until after 6:30am meaning he'd been out for over seven hours.

And here's the thing that makes my stomach turn.

Police later discovered that Joven had spent several hours in his car outside the apartment of another woman, a woman he'd been seeing on the side.

When he finally got home that morning.

Walk witnesses in neighboring houses reported hearing raised voices.

Staying with Jovan.

And Cassandra was Jovan's mom, Cheryl Shepherd.

She had flown in to help with the new baby and to give the couple a chance to work through their problems.

She was there at this time and later told police she heard them arguing about relationship issues, specifically about Cassandra going out while being a new mom, and about Jovan's late nights and suspicious behavior.

Then, at 7:50am Gunshots shattered the morning quiet.

And what investigators would uncover in the following days would reveal just how many warning signs had been missed.

The Kansas City Police Department processed not one, but two separate crime scenes that day.

And let me tell you, what they found was absolutely chilling.

When Police arrived at 7:52am they found Cassandra Perkins on the master bedroom floor.

She had been shot 10 times.

10 times.

Just let that sink in for a moment.

According to the medical examiner's report, Cassandra had gunshot wounds to her chest, neck, abdomen, hip, back and hand.

That hand wound, it was what's called a defensive wound, meaning she had her hand up trying to protect herself.

I can't even imagine her final moments.

Crime scene Investigators spent over 12 hours processing that bedroom.

They collected 89 pieces of evidence.

Just think about that number.

89 separate pieces of evidence from one room.

They found nine shell casings scattered across the floor.

Multiple blood samples from different areas, finger and palm prints from various surfaces, fibers from clothing and carpeting, hair.

Hair samples, a broken lamp that suggested a struggle.

Several Electronic devices, a stack of medical bills, and something that breaks my heart.

A torn up letter that had to be pieced back together.

Want to know what makes this even more tragic?

That letter, once reconstructed, turned out to be from Cassandra.

She was writing about her concerns over Jovan's changing behavior and mood swings.

She specifically mentioned him becoming a different person after games.

Here's the thing about Jovan Belcher that makes this case even more tragic.

By all accounts, he was the definition of a success story.

Let me paint you a picture.

We're talking about a kid who wasn't just on his high school football team.

He was team captain at West Babylon High for two seasons.

He led them to two Long island football championships, playoff appearances, and get this.

Even after he made it big, he kept coming back to give pre game speeches to inspire the next generation of players.

Then there's his college years at the University of Maine.

Sure, he racked up all the football accolades you'd expect, but that's not what stops me in my tracks.

He won an Academic Momentum Award from the National Consortium for Academics and Sports Scholar Baller program.

Think about that.

This wasn't just some jock skating buy on his athletic ability.

He graduated with a degree in Child Development and Family relations.

Even after making it to the NFL, he was still that same community minded person.

He visited military bases, spent time at elementary schools promoting NFL youth programs.

On paper, Jovan Belcher was living the American dream.

But here's where things get dark.

Crime fans.

After years of youth football, four years of high school ball, four years in college, and now in his fourth year as a pro, who was Joven Belcher really becoming?

Cause the man I'm about to tell you about, he's nothing like the promising young athlete I just described.

Here's where the investigation takes an even darker turn.

When detectives conducted forensic analysis of their cell phones, they found hundreds of texts between Jovan and Cassandra in the weeks leading up to the traged.

Many were confrontational.

But they also found something else.

Messages between Jovan and at least three other women.

One of the most disturbing pieces of evidence.

A notebook found in Jovan's car.

The last entry was dated just three days before the shooting.

It read, and I quote, I can't get the ringing out of my head.

Something's wrong with me.

I feel like I'm underwater all the time.

That entry makes my blood run cold.

Especially when you consider what we would later learn about the condition of Jovan's brain.

Let's look into Jovan's relationship with Cassandra.

We need to go back to when Jovan and Cassandra first met at a Chiefs team event.

And can I just say, their early relationship was like something out of a movie.

Cassandra was 20 years old and studying to become an elementary school teacher.

By all accounts, she was vivacious, caring, and always smiling.

Jovan was 22 and had just finished his rookie season with the Chiefs.

Teammate and running back Jamal Charles introduced the couple, Cassandra being his first cousin.

Friends said Jovan would surprise Cassandra with flowers at her classes.

He helped her study for exams.

She attended every home game wearing his number 59 jersey.

Within six months, they moved in together.

When Jovan bought that house on Chrysler Avenue, they seemed perfect together.

The successful NFL player and the ambitious teacher to be.

But we all know how these stories go, don't we?

Things are rarely what they seem.

The first red flag started appearing in early 2011.

Friends reported seeing arguments at social events.

And let me tell you about the controlling behavior that started to emerge.

According to multiple witnesses, Jovan would constantly check Cassandra's phone, show up unexpectedly when she was out with friends, control their finances, making her ask for money, isolate her from friends who he thought were bad influences.

Now we need to talk about what might be the most crucial piece of this tragic puzzle.

The medical findings, specifically about CTE or.

Or chronic traumatic encephalopathy.

And let me tell you, what researchers found in Jovan's brain was nothing short of shocking.

In December 2013, a year after the tragedy, Jovan's body was exhumed from a cemetery in Long Island, New York.

His family had given permission for his brain to be studied by researchers at Boston University's center for the Study of Traumatic Encephalopathy.

The examination was led by Dr.

Bennett Omalu.

Yes, the same Dr.

Will Smith portrayed in the movie Concussion.

What they found, it still gives me chills.

Jovan had the brain of a 70 year old man with Alzheimer's disease.

He was 25 years old.

Just let that sink in for a moment.

The damage was extensive.

They found tau protein buildups throughout his brain.

That's the signature marker of cte.

These proteins literally strangle brain cells.

The areas most affected were his frontal lobe, which controls judgment and impulse control.

His temporal lobe, which deals with memory and emotional responses, and his parietal lobe, which helps with spatial orientation.

But here's what makes this case particularly significant.

Most CTE studies had been done on much older players with longer careers.

Jovan was just 25, and he'd only played three full seasons in the NFL.

But get this.

Researchers estimated he'd sustained more than 11,000 head impacts during his football career, starting from when he began playing at age 9.

Think about that number.

11,000 impacts to the head, each one potentially contributing to the deterioration of his brain.

The Jovan Belcher case became a watershed moment for the NFL, forcing the league to confront issues they'd been reluctant to address.

And the changes that came after this tragedy, they were massive.

In 2013, the NFL implemented what they called the NFL Lifeline, a 247 crisis hotline specifically for current and former NFL players, coaches, and family members.

But that was just the beginning.

In 2014, they completely overhauled their mental health protocols.

Every team was now required to have a licensed mental health professional, either a psychologist or psychiatrist, as an in house counselor.

But perhaps the biggest changes came in their domestic violence policies.

And would you believe this?

Before this case, the NFL had no specific policy for domestic violence incidents.

None.

In 2014.

It's almost unthinkable.

Today, Zoe, who was just three months old when she lost both her parents, is being raised by her mother's cousin in Texas.

The NFL's collective bargaining agreement ensures she'll be financially supported through college.

But nothing can replace the parent she lost that day.

Let me tell you something that keeps me up at night.

When I think about this case, The NFL of 2009, when Jovan started his career, it's almost unrecognizable compared to the league today in 2024, every single practice, every single game, there are dedicated medical professionals whose only job is to watch for potential head injuries.

They're called unaffiliated neurotrauma consultants.

That's right.

They're not even employed by the teams because the NFL wants them to be completely independent.

And get this, players today have access to something called a guardian cap.

It's this extra protective layer that goes around their helmets, reducing the impact force of hits by up to 33%.

Think about that.

One third less force going straight to your brain.

But Jovan, he never had that option.

Today, if a player takes a hard hit, they're immediately pulled from the game.

They have to go through a standardized concussion evaluation.

And here's the crucial part.

It doesn't matter if it's the super bowl or a preseason game.

They cannot go back in until they're cleared by independent doctors.

But you know what really haunts me about all this?

In Jovan's day, players would routinely go right back into games after taking massive hits.

They called it getting your bell rung, like it was just some normal part of the game.

There were no guardian caps, no independent neurologists on the sidelines, no standardized protocols.

And here's the thing that really gets to me, crime fans.

If Jovan had started his career in 2024 instead of 2009, would all those 11,000 hits to his head have been less devastating?

Would someone have noticed the changes in his behavior sooner?

Would Cassandra still be alive?

We'll never know for sure.

But what we do know is that every single one of those hits was slowly changing who Jovan was, one impact at a time.

This case isn't just a true crime story.

It's a cautionary tale about the intersection of mental health, professional sports, traumatic brain injury and domestic violence.

It's a reminder that sometimes the warning signs are there, but we don't know how to read them.

Or worse, we choose to ignore them.

If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please call the National Suicide prevention lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK.

If you're experiencing domestic violence, the National Domestic Violence hotline is available 24.

7 at 1-800-799-SAFE.

And please, crime fans, if you see someone struggling, whether it's with mental health, relationship issues or substance abuse, don't wait to reach out.

Sometimes just letting someone know you care can make all the difference.

Be safe, be smart.

Don't be a stranger.

And remember, if you think something's wrong, trust your gut and speak up.

It could save a life.

Stay safe, stay passionate, and don't let anyone dim your love of the game.