K.J. Felder Jr. might just have one of the biggest hearts in Duluth

DULUTH — Let’s start with the obvious:

K.J. Felder Jr. is 5-foot-7 and built like a guy who could sneak into Duluth Arena with a student ticket and nobody’d blink.

But don’t let the frame fool you.

He’s a certified football problem.

Fast, twitchy, and absolutely fearless, Felder has become the heart, soul, and jet engine of the Duluth Harbor Monsters offense — and probably the best underdog story skating under the radar in this town since we let Grandma’s Marathon runners chug a beer at Lemon Drop Hill.

“I tore my ACL, LCL and ripped half my hamstring,” Felder said before practice Monday night at Duluth Arena without flinching, casually listing off a knee injury that would've ended most athletic careers before they got started. “It kind of hindered me from going D1.”

Yeah, I bet it did.

The Miami native bounced from Everglades High to NAIA to the AFL before it morphed into AF1, and eventually, he fell into The Arena League.

“Started off on the Goats,” he said, “and just found my way to Duluth. Everything's been a Cinderella story since.”

That’s right. A guy nicknamed “K.J.” who used to run returns in front of 300 fans and a fog machine now finds himself one win away from The Arena League Championship game, catching passes at warp speed from Ja’Vonte Johnson in a venue with real fans, real energy — and real dreams.

Saturday night, Duluth Arena, 7 p.m. semifinal against the Ozarks Lunkers. And Felder’s not just playing. He’s circling this one in red ink.

“Started off kind of rusty in the first quarter,” he admitted of last week’s game (a 70-36 Harbor Monsters' rout of the Lunkers), owning two drops right out of the gate. “Just a mental thing, a little anxious, ready to make plays and get after it. I knew after the second drop I had to lock in — and that’s all I did.”

He’s a slot guy with sprinter’s hips, a special teams weapon, and — if we’re being honest — a decent quote. He talks like he plays: fast, direct, zero BS.

“K.J.'s super shifty, find the space in the defense and makes a play,” Harbor Monsters coach TonyO'Neil said after practice Monday night. “A three-yard play could turn into a 47-yard run with him easily. We love K.J. here.”

Scouting report?

“Oh, my biggest strength is my speed,” Felder said. “Knowing how to hit gaps, vision, and just being a playmaker. Being a dog. My size doesn’t stop me from doing anything.”

And when he says dog, he means junkyard dog, not Instagram golden retriever. He grinds, earns every snap, and takes more hits than a local city council Facebook thread.

But you get the sense Felder’s not just playing for himself. There’s something deeper here. The kid didn’t come to Duluth for the view, and he sure didn’t come for the per diem.

“This started off as just a stop in the beginning,” said Felder. “Kind of shaping up to maybe becoming my second home. I haven’t been loved by a city as much as I’ve been loved here… and it’s made me want to stick around.”

Read that again.

We’ve had NFL prospects pass through Duluth before. A few had the talent. A few had the attitude. A few even had the mustaches. But K.J. Felder Jr. has the gratitude. And in this city, that still counts for something.

He’s got no agent. He’s his own marketing team. Ben McToy has helped him send film, make connections, chase the dream. But in the end, it’s been K.J. doing the work, sleeping on couches, watching tape, lifting just enough to keep the DBs guessing but not enough to end up listed as a backup fullback.

“I want to play in the CFL. I want to play in the NFL. I want to play on Sundays,” he told me without blinking. “That’s the dream.”

For now, the dream runs through Duluth — and it runs on turf, under lights, in a league where walls are legal and Cinderella stories still happen.

And if we’re lucky, we’ll get a few more nights of watching Felder turn nothing into six.

Because even in a league full of bruisers, sometimes the smallest guy on the field is the one you remember longest.

And Duluth? He remembers us, too.