Lions Make Four Moves, Sign CB Kendall Fuller
The Detroit Lions announced they have signed CB Kendall Fuller to the practice squad.
Additionally, the Lions signed OL Kingsley Eguakun and DL Chris Smith to the practice squad and waived S Loren Strickland.
Fuller, 30, is a former third-round pick of Washington back in 2016. He was traded to the Chiefs as part of the Alex Smith deal back in 2017.
Fuller played out the final year of his four-year, $3.12 million contract and re-signed to a four-year, $40 million deal in 2020. He finished in the final year of his contract and earned a base salary of $8,500,000 in 2023.
Miami signed Fuller to a two-year, $15 million contract in 2024 free agency. He finished the season on injured reserve and was released this offseason
In 2024, Fuller appeared in 11 games for the Dolphins and recorded 50 tackles, one tackle for loss, one fumble recovery, and seven pass defenses.
"Dan Campbell Breaks Down in Emotional Tribute to D’Angelo: 'Some Things Don’t Replace Soul'—Lions Coach Sparks Firestorm with Soulful Comments on NFL's Entertainment Shift"

The Detroit Lions are known for their grit, discipline, and unity under head coach Dan Campbell, but during a recent press conference, the world saw a different side of the fiery leader — a man shaken by loss. Campbell’s voice broke as he spoke about the passing of D’Angelo, the legendary neo-soul artist whose music, he revealed, had been quietly woven into the emotional DNA of the Lions locker room. For years, D’Angelo’s smooth voice and heartfelt lyrics served as the team’s hidden source of calm and inspiration, guiding them through triumphs and heartbreaks alike.
Campbell admitted that on some of the toughest practice days — the ones when exhaustion and frustration took hold — he would play D’Angelo’s music through the speakers to lift the team’s spirit. “There’s something about that sound,” he said softly. “It’s soul, it’s struggle, it’s redemption. That’s what football is.” His words struck a chord across the room, contrasting sharply with his usual intensity. For a coach often described as a “warrior on the sideline,” it was a rare and raw display of emotion.

As reporters leaned in, Campbell shared that D’Angelo’s songs had been part of the Lions’ journey since he took over the team. “I’d play ‘Untitled (How Does It Feel)’ or ‘Send It On’ before games,” he recalled. “It wasn’t just music — it reminded the guys to stay grounded, to play with heart, and to never forget why they love the game.” Players later confirmed that his playlist became a pregame ritual, a moment where the locker room quieted down and focused not on statistics or strategy, but on feeling — something Campbell believed D’Angelo embodied better than anyone else.
When asked how he planned to honor D’Angelo’s memory, Campbell’s tone deepened. “We’ll play him on Sunday,” he said. “He’ll be part of us, like he always was.” His response drew applause from players standing nearby and moved many reporters to silence. Social media lit up within minutes as fans flooded timelines with clips of D’Angelo’s performances set to Lions highlights. “He gave us soul, we’ll give him glory,” one fan wrote in tribute. The wave of emotion spread far beyond Detroit, reaching across the NFL community as athletes and musicians shared their condolences.
But the mood in the room shifted abruptly when a journalist brought up a different name — Bad Bunny. The Puerto Rican superstar, known for his bold style and his growing partnership with the NFL, has become a cultural icon in recent years. Some see him as the symbol of the league’s evolving entertainment vision; others view him as a distraction from its core identity. When the question was raised, asking Campbell what he thought of the NFL’s promotion of Bad Bunny and his rumored upcoming halftime performance, the coach froze for a long, uncomfortable moment.

The silence stretched. Cameras zoomed in. Finally, Campbell looked up, his eyes firm but distant, and said just five words: “Some things don’t replace soul.”
Those five words set off a firestorm. Within minutes, national media outlets picked up the quote, framing it as everything from a heartfelt tribute to a subtle critique. Fans argued endlessly online. Some called Campbell’s statement “a poetic defense of authenticity,” while others accused him of throwing shade at Bad Bunny and the league’s new entertainment direction. Hashtags exploded, with “#SoulOverShow” trending within an hour. The debate became more than music — it turned into a conversation about identity, values, and the soul of American sports culture.
Insiders close to the team said Campbell’s words came from grief, not controversy. “He’s not anti-anyone,” one staff member clarified. “He’s just mourning someone who inspired him deeply. To him, D’Angelo represented a purity of purpose — something real. That’s what he meant by soul.”

In the following days, Campbell was seen during practice wearing a hoodie with D’Angelo’s initials stitched near the heart. The players followed suit, adding a black armband for Sunday’s game in tribute. Sources revealed that Campbell played D’Angelo’s “Lady” during team warmups that week — a gesture that brought quiet smiles to the field and even drew tears from a few players. “You could feel something different in the air,” said one team veteran. “Coach always talks about fighting with passion, but this week it felt like we were fighting with soul.”
As game day approaches, Detroit prepares not only for a matchup but for a moment of remembrance. The stadium plans to dim its lights briefly before kickoff while D’Angelo’s music plays across Ford Field, a gesture the NFL has reportedly approved. The moment is expected to be one of the most emotional tributes in recent memory — a union of sport, art, and spirit that transcends competition.
For Dan Campbell, the loss of D’Angelo isn’t just about a musician. It’s about what he stood for: honesty, perseverance, and heart. In an age where the NFL often chases spectacle, his five words echo a deeper truth — that beyond the noise, the jerseys, and the headlines, the essence of the game still belongs to the soul. And for one night in Detroit, that soul will sing again.