LOS ANGELES — Toward the end of USC’s 2023 season, as Kyron Hudson’s motivation waned, Chance Hudson managed to get his hands on another team’s scouting report on his son and shared it with him.
Kyron Hudson. Wide receiver. Positives: very physical. Strong hands. Very good blocker.
Negatives: Not good in space. North-south guy, not a lateral-movement guy. Average routes.
“So, basically,” Chance reflected, “they said he’s slow, and his routes suck. And that’s what I told my son.”
Hudson, Chance knew, was frustrated. After two years as a highly-regarded recruit out of Mater Dei High toiling in USC’s receiver room, he had been hailed as a standout of USC’s 2023 fall camp and earned a Week 1 start, only to careen down the target-share hierarchy. He caught 15 passes last season. It took away his son’s drive, Chance felt.
But Chance Hudson served in the Marines, and raised Hudson and brother Keyon – now a defensive tackle at Oregon – to never point the finger outward. Only inward. So his father left Hudson’s offseason training solely up to him, with simply a motivator.
This is what the hell they think of you.
A year later, on a grand stage in a sold-out venue, Hudson held a viral coming-out party in USC’s season-opening victory over LSU on Sunday night in Las Vegas. First came the grab heard ’round the college football world, a right-handed snag-bobble-cradle that could stand for months as the season’s Catch of the Year. Second came a catch Hudson himself rightly dubbed even more impressive, sticking out his left hand as fourth-quarter seconds waned to pull in a dart from quarterback Miller Moss, getting popped in the helmet, and somehow holding on for a 20-yard-gain.
It prompted a national query, his abilities largely buried for years: just who, exactly, is Kyron Hudson?
His friends and family, though, were more excited than surprised, Hudson’s one-handed exploits honed since his 7-on-7 days growing up in Southern California. After his freshman year at Mater Dei, Chance had his son’s growth plates X-rayed and realized he wouldn’t ever grow taller than 6-foot-2. He wasn’t the fastest kid, either.
So, knowing Hudson hung somewhere in a gray receiver’s area between red zone threat and burner, Chance – who coached and trained in football for years – emphasized to his son: he had to be able to embrace impact.
They took a ball, growing up, anywhere they went. To the garage. To Grandma’s house. To the beach. Chance would position his son and throw passes at him, and Hudson would lay down and try to catch balls with one hand, or kneel, or stand perpendicular to his father. If he as much as bobbled a ball, they would start over.
“You use the skills God blessed you with,” Hudson said, after USC’s practice on Tuesday. “And so, you understand that you may not be the fastest, you may not be the strongest. But you find what you’re good at, and you use those to your advantage.”
His skill was physicality, and his faith in that never wavered, even as his playing time did. The little ones in Hudson’s extended family call him “Gamps,” after his father-in-law, a pastor. He never questioned himself, Hudson said, because he wouldn’t question God’s plan.
In the offseason, programs reached out, floating the idea of hitting the transfer portal and the promise of NIL dollars. Chance listened, even though he didn’t want to. So he sat down with his son, and pointed out he had two years of eligibility left, and he pointed out that USC could import other receivers or a new quarterback besides Moss, who Hudson had grown close with.
“He didn’t give two (expletives),” Chance said. “He said, ‘I’m staying.’”
Hudson had never once complained over playing time, Riley emphasized Tuesday. He would simply ask coaches how he could improve, and ask them to push him hard, the son of a Marine.
“And it’s just funny, when you do things like that, then you get better really fast,” Riley said. “You don’t worry about all the other BS on the outside that doesn’t matter, and all of a sudden you look up one day, and the guy’s a pretty damn good player.”
Before USC played in Las Vegas, Hudson told his father the program was focused. People thought LSU was physical? Just watch, Hudson told his father.
He finished with a career-high and team-best five catches for 83 yards, and two grabs wholeheartedly embracing impact. Chance hugged him after the game, emotional, pride overflowing while surrounded by family.
And then the bedlam slowly calmed, and Chance spoke again, the motivation never ending.
“Hey, man, your routes – your slant still needs some work,” Chance recalled saying.
“He’s like, ‘Oh yeah,’” Chance said. “I know. I know.”
