Chris Perkins: Christian Wilkins probably doesn’t like me, but I still want him to return to the Dolphins.

Christian Wilkins must stay with the Miami Dolphins for the 2024 season. Period.

I say this understanding it sounded as though Wilkins, the Dolphins’ tone-setting defensive lineman who is eligible to become a free agent in March, was giving a goodbye speech to his teammates in the locker room in video aired on “Hard Knocks” after their 26-7 wild-card round playoff loss at the Kansas City Chiefs last month.

I say this understanding Wilkins, based on contracts given to other top defensive tackles, would likely have to get either a multi-year contract (averaging around $22 million per year with about $45 million guaranteed) or a franchise tag (totaling about $22 million for 2024) to stay.

And, finally, I say this understanding Wilkins doesn’t give a damn about my support.

I don’t think Wilkins likes me. Our last interaction wasn’t exactly positive. He told me to stop watching him. And he wasn’t kidding.

Regardless, I’d like to see Wilkins, a team captain and possibly the best defensive lineman the Dolphins have had in a decade or so, in a Miami uniform for 2024.

have a lot of reasons for my perspective.

Wilkins, the Dolphins’ 2019 first-round pick who played the 2023 season on the fifth-year option of his contract, posted a career-best in sacks (9.0) last season, one season after posting a career-best in tackles (98).

That’s great production from a flat-out baller.

He’s only missed two games in his five-year career.

His daily and weekly work routines are legendary. He’s very much a creature of habit.

He’s one of the hardest workers on the team, a guy who leads by example.

In fact, he might be the biggest trash talker on the team. And he backs it up. He brings much-needed toughness and attitude to the defense and the team.

On top of that, he’s a homegrown talent.

That matters to the other Dolphins draftees in that locker room, guys whose contracts are coming up, guys such as guard Robert Hunt, quarterback Tua Tagovailoa, safety Jevon Holland, edge rusher Jaelan Phillips, wide receiver Jaylen Waddle.

They’ve watched the Dolphins give big money to outsiders such as wide receiver Tyreek Hill, cornerback Jalen Ramsey, left tackle Terron Armstead and edge rusher Bradley Chubb.

They recall the Dolphins paying free-agent cornerback Byron Jones more than they paid homegrown cornerback Xavien Howard.

These things matter.

Players know Wilkins has earned his money. They’ll be watching to see how the Dolphins treat him.

Oh, and speaking of watching, here’s what happened with me and Wilkins …

I’d noticed he has two habits: at the end of the “Star Spangled Banner,” at some point during “home of the brave,” Wilkins excitedly runs two or three steps forward toward the field, turns around and runs back toward the sideline. I think at some point he pounds his chest and points a finger toward the sky. He does it every game; his other habit is when he’s exiting the shower area and walking to his locker (while wearing a towel), he literally kicks a pair of shorts, on the floor, all the way to his locker. It’s a bizarre habit, to say the least.

Over the past couple of seasons Wilkins has become notorious for not wanting to deal with the media. He doesn’t speak with us in the locker room at his locker, such as every other player except the quarterback. (Tagovailoa, such as most starting quarterbacks, only speaks at the podium and only speaks once a week). Wilkins usually spoke twice during the week — on Mondays at the podium, and postgame at the podium.

Once while he was kicking his shorts to his locker I told him I’d like to ask him about that habit some day, but I said I wasn’t sure whether the podium was the correct venue.

Wilkins was unamused.

On the Monday before the Kansas City playoff game, the final time I might get to ask Wilkins about his habits, I decided to ask.

It didn’t go well.

I told him I had two habits to ask about. I began by mentioning the national anthem habit and asked why he does it.

“Why are you watching me so much?” Wilkins asked. “That’s the bigger question. Don’t watch me.

“But again, I’m a routine guy. That’s just what I do. I actually love the national anthem. It’s a time to lock in. That’s my favorite part of getting ready for the game because that’s when all the emotions and energy is at it’s peak. It’s a good time and I’m just ready to go there. But, yeah, that’s just always what I’ve done. It’s my thing. Now what’s your second question?”

I began by saying I’d told him one day in the locker room I wanted to ask about this.

“Oh, yeah,” Wilkins said before I addressed the situation any further, “so again, stop watching me. Let me do my thing. Let me just do my weird little quirks and things that I got. I’m a routine guy. It just is what it is. I got my little things. I got my little reasons.

“I’m not going to share them per se, but once I do something or get in a little groove or routine, it just is what it is.”

I finished by saying I just happen to notice little things about people.

“Watch somebody else next time,” he said.

I hope Wilkins comes back.

I’d miss our exchanges.