JUST IN: Bears Rookie CB Zah Frazier Is Already Being Counted Out — Here’s Why That Might Be a Huge Mistake

Every NFL season brings a new wave of young players trying to break into the league and prove they belong, but not all rookies are created equal. Some get the red carpet, media buzz, and starter reps from day one. Others get buried on the depth chart before they’ve even laced up their cleats. Zah Frazier, the Chicago Bears’ rookie cornerback, falls into the latter category—and if early whispers out of training camp are to be believed, he’s facing an uphill battle just to make the rotation. But if that sounds like a death sentence for his chances, think again. Because this isn’t the first time Frazier’s been underestimated—and if history repeats itself, those counting him out may soon look foolish.

Let’s not sugarcoat it: Frazier enters a crowded, competitive cornerback room stacked with hungry veterans and second-year guys who already know the system. Jaylon Johnson is entrenched as CB1. Kyler Gordon has the nickel locked down. Tyrique Stevenson has momentum and draft capital on his side. That leaves Frazier staring at a clipboard and limited reps, needing to claw his way into the conversation on special teams or nickel sub-packages. For most rookies in his position, this is where the slide into irrelevance begins—where they get buried behind the practice squad depth and quietly disappear by Week 6.

But Zah Frazier is not most rookies.

This is a guy who’s been overlooked his entire career—undervalued, doubted, and, in some cases, flat-out dismissed. He wasn’t a five-star recruit. He didn’t come from a Power Five powerhouse. He didn’t walk into the league with hype videos or viral highlights. He came through the back door—quietly, consistently, and with a chip on his shoulder the size of Soldier Field. That kind of hunger isn’t taught. It’s forged. And Frazier’s been cooking with it for years.

The Bears didn’t draft him to be flashy. They drafted him because he fits a profile: long, rangy, fast, and fearless. He’s got the physical traits that defensive coordinator Alan Williams drools over—explosiveness off the line, physicality in press coverage, and a nose for the ball that doesn’t always show up on the stat sheet but jumps off the film. He’s the kind of player who makes a mistake, takes a coaching point, and doesn’t make the same error twice. He’s a film junkie. A grinder. The kind of guy who shows up two hours early just to shadow a veteran during warmups.

And yet, he’s already being dismissed as a camp body, a long shot, a roster-filler. That’s the irony. NFL teams say they love underdogs—until one shows up and actually threatens the depth chart.

What’s fueling the skepticism around Frazier? Part of it is the Bears’ relative depth at corner, which hasn’t been a strength in recent years but suddenly looks respectable. Another part is that Frazier isn’t a flashy talker. He’s not generating training camp headlines. He’s not chirping at wide receivers or making highlight-reel picks. He’s just quietly doing his job—and in today’s NFL, sometimes that means getting ignored.

But here’s where the plot thickens. Around Halas Hall, there are whispers. Coaches have noticed that Frazier’s reps, while limited, are consistently clean. That he’s winning 1-on-1 matchups against guys who are supposed to be unguardable. That he doesn’t back down from contact. That he’s absorbing the playbook at a speed rarely seen in mid-round rookies. He may not be making splash plays in front of the cameras, but behind closed doors, he’s earning trust.

And that, more than anything, is the key to surviving in the NFL. Forget the combine numbers. Forget the draft round. If the coaching staff believes in you, your opportunity will come. The question is whether you’re ready to seize it when it does—and Frazier has made a career out of showing up when it matters most.

It’s not hard to imagine how this could play out. An injury to a starter. A blown coverage in Week 3. A special teams breakout. Suddenly Frazier’s on the field, and then he doesn’t come off. That’s how these stories go. The league is littered with names like his—guys who were buried on the depth chart until fate cracked the door open. The difference is, most of them didn’t have Frazier’s mindset. They were waiting for a chance. He’s preparing for one.

Of course, none of this guarantees success. The NFL is a brutal meritocracy. If Frazier can’t translate his potential into production under the bright lights, he’ll be gone just like the dozens of rookies who came before him. But don’t confuse quiet with weak. Don’t mistake humility for hesitation. Frazier isn’t afraid of the spotlight—he just doesn’t need it to do his job.

And maybe that’s exactly what this team needs. The Bears are trying to turn a corner as a franchise, shedding years of dysfunction and half-baked rebuilds. They’re looking for smart, tough, accountable players who can help build something sustainable. Guys who won’t fold under pressure. Who know how to play their role before they try to play the hero. That’s Zah Frazier to a T.

So when you hear analysts say he’s a fringe guy, a developmental project, or a camp cut waiting to happen—don’t buy it. That’s what they said about dozens of current starters across the league. The NFL doesn’t care where you came from. It cares about what you do when the reps start to matter. And Frazier, for all the doubt swirling around him, seems to understand exactly how to make those moments count.

Will he start in Week 1? Probably not. Will he be the talk of preseason? Doubtful. But don’t be shocked if, come December, he’s on the field in crunch time, making the kind of quiet plays that don’t show up on fantasy stats but win games in real life. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned from watching this league year after year, it’s that heart, hustle, and hunger still matter. And Zah Frazier has all three in spades.

So write him off if you want. Count him out. Just don’t be surprised when he proves you wrong—again.