4 minute read
Sports
Head Game
AS THE NFL AND ITS CRITICS FRET OVER A RASH OF PLAYER CONCUSSIONS, ONE FAN DISCOVERS A RADICAL SOLUTION TO SAVE HIS BELOVED GAME. // BY JOSH DEAN
AS I WRITE THIS, it is the thick of football season and everyone around me is yelling—about concussions. (Or, as the cover of Sports Illustrated put it, concussions!) This chronically misunderstood head injury has been of increasing interest to football players, coaches and, especially, frothymouthed, do-gooding journalists for the past few seasons as the growing body of research shows in clearer and clearer terms that concussions are a plague upon the NFL (and the sport at large). It’s pretty clear now: Play football at your brain’s peril.
The shouting was cranked to 11 after one particularly brutal October weekend in which University of Arkansas quarterback Ryan Mallet, Philadelphia Eagles receiver DeSean Jackson, Baltimore Ravens tight end Todd Heap and Cleveland Browns wide receivers Joshua Cribbs and Mohamed Massaquoi all left the fi eld with concussions. Jackson’s concussion was labeled “severe” and was a result of a dangerous—and illegal—headfi rst tackle/javelin impersonation by Atlanta Falcons cornerback Dunta Robinson, who also managed to give himself a concussion on the play (the rare double whammy). And that wasn’t all. Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker James Harrison, a human wrecking ball, knocked out two players in the same game, and Zach Follett of the
CRUNCH TIME The Colts defensive line takes down the Patriots’ David Thomas.
Detroit Lions was carted off the fi eld at Giants Stadium on a stretcher with a head injury. Worst of all, a Rutgers University defensive tackle named Eric LeGrand was paralyzed from the neck down in a game against Army. He may never walk again.
As of mid-October there had been at least 41 concussions suffered by NFL players this season, 14 of which were edited into a horrifying video compilation by the website Deadspin that should run on a loop as a precautionary tale in every locker room. Of course, it’s not that different from any number of sequences that have been aired, in celebratory fashion, on ESPN SportsCenter over the years, and an audience of linebackers and safeties—not to say fans—would likely greet it with chest bumps.
So the league is trying to do the only thing it can do: offi ciate its way around the problem. On the Monday following that bloody weekend, Ray Anderson, the NFL’s executive vice president of football operations, said that the league, which already ejected and fi ned players for illegal hits, would ratchet up suspensions. He issued the following blast of legalese: “There’s strong testimonial for looking readily at evaluating discipline, especially in the areas of egregious and elevated dangerous hits.” At which point smoke began to emanate from Harrison’s ears.
The helmet industry also quickly came under fi re after New York Times reporter Alan Schwarz wrote a scathing indictment of the state of head protectors, which included the terrifying fact that the organization
that established the safety guidelines for helmets is partly made up of and fi nanced by representatives employed by the helmet industry. Oh, brother.
Even former safety Rodney Harrison—the same player who, on the fi eld, was widely considered one of the dirtiest in the game—was up in arms. “Thank God I retired,” he said to a Sports Illustrated reporter.
Here’s the thing: According to a recent study on concussions in football, it’s not these horrifi c, high-profi le hits that are most dangerous to players. It’s the recurrent, low-impact collisions that take place at practice. It turns out the brain doesn’t need to be jarred all that hard to be damaged; jostle it repeatedly and you get similar effects. And since eliminating contact at practice isn’t an option, and considering a player who takes part in minor collisions over 16 games anyway is certainly at risk of
retiring a vegetable, there’s really only one solution to this mess. If we’re really serious about solving the problem, we’re going to have to take the advice of Chicago Bears safety Chris Harris, who tweeted: “If it’s too dangerous, then ban the sport n [sic] make it illegal.”
Harris was being facetious—he was angry with the league for lashing out at defenders. But he was also right. If we’re being honest with ourselves the only way to save football players is to ban football.