Posted tagged ‘Football’

Smart Linebacker Wants To Stay Smart

March 17, 2015


BERKELEY, Calif. — San Francisco 49ers linebacker Chris Borland, one of the NFL’s top rookies this past season, told “Outside the Lines” on Monday that he is retiring because of concerns about the long-term effects of repetitive head trauma.

Borland, 24, said he notified the 49ers on Friday. He said he made his decision after consulting with family members, concussion researchers, friends and current and former teammates, as well as studying what is known about the relationship between football and neurodegenerative disease.

“I just honestly want to do what’s best for my health,” Borland told “Outside the Lines.” “From what I’ve researched and what I’ve experienced, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.”



Borland’s rookie year in 2014 was pretty damn good.  He gained time when star ‘backer Patrick Willis went down with an injury six games into the season.  Thrown into the fray in a much-depleted defense, his stats were impressive:

107 tackles and a sack in 14 games, eight of them starts. He was the NFC’s defensive player of the week for his performance against the New York Giantsin Week 11. He led the 49ers with 13 tackles in that game and became the team’s first rookie linebacker with two interceptions in one game. He received one vote for NFL defensive rookie of the year.

He’s on a rookie contract, so the money he’s giving up right now isn’t stratospheric:  “only” $540,000 this year.  That’s saying goodbye to 10.5 times the US median income to keep his head on straight — and, of course, he’s forgoing however much might have come down the road.

This isn’t the beginning of the end for football.  To channel my inner Winnie, it isn’t even the end of the beginning.  But it is telling.

Beyond or before that, tip the hat to a young man with a strong sense of priorities and the intestinal fortitude to act on them.

Gustave Courbet, Wrestlers1853

In Preparation For This Afternoon’s American Rugby-ish Semifinals

January 19, 2014

Given that the recreational enjoyment of that ever-popular friend, Mary Jane, is now legal in both the states in which NFL conference championships will be decided today, I can’t think of a better musical commentary than this one:

Party w. discretion y’all, mindful of the state of the law in the state you are.
Oh, and of course:  Go Pats! Go Niners!

Not With a Bang

November 14, 2013

How would football die?

Not by defections from the NFL — either of players or audience.  News like this is (so far) falling into  the business-as-usual folder for most who love the pro game, inside or out.


No.  If football as it is now played is going to die, it will be because this becomes a growing trend:

The nation’s largest youth football program, Pop Warner, saw participation drop 9.5 percent between 2010-12, a sign that the concussion crisis that began in the NFL is having a dramatic impact at the lowest rungs of the sport.

According to data provided to “Outside the Lines,” Pop Warner lost 23,612 players, thought to be the largest two-year decline since the organization began keeping statistics decades ago. Consistent annual growth led to a record 248,899 players participating in Pop Warner in 2010; that figure fell to 225,287 by the 2012 season.

The ESPN reporters who wrote that, Steve Fainaru and Mark Fainaru-Wada report that without being sure what drives the decline, the threat of long term brain damage is likely part of what’s keeping parents from enrolling their kids in the sport.  Sounds right to me — as the parent of a sports-averse 13 year old, I haven’t had to weigh in on this, but there isn’t a chance at all that I would let my kid play tackle football (and I have my doubts about soccer, too, as it happens).  I’m sure I’m not alone.

The article goes on to talk about some changes the Pop Warner folks are thinking about — the big one being a suggestion to ban the three point stance for linemen.  That move isn’t happening very quickly.  It may come about, and such a change might tip the scale for some families.

But let’s say football goes some large part of the way towards boxing, becoming (what it once was) a more minor, more geographically constrained sport — especially for the youth and high school game.  Say a couple of  school systems, and maybe a few universities, get sued for malign neglect of their student-atheletes’ interests.  Suppose insurance companies start hiking the charges for liability coverage — or dropping it altogether — for the less financially robust nodes of the football-industrial complex.

Won’t happen fast. Could come faster than many of us (me) imagine.

Right now, like lots of folks, I’m still drawn to football.  I still feel excited if I’m at a bar and see someone break something big.  But increasingly I can’t sit down and watch a game.  It feels like I’m looking at slow-motion executions, and I don’t like that one bit.

Not with a bang, folks.  With some moms and pops deciding not to sign a permission slip. With an insurance bill that the (X) Unified School District can’t pay.  And yeah, in part, with just a little too much prime time exposure of still young men who can’t remember why they got into the car to go they can’t remember where.

Image:  Joseph Wright of Derby, Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight1765.

Getting Harder To Watch

January 10, 2013

It’s now confirmed:  Junior Seau suffered what appears to have been a football-assisted suicide:

The former N.F.L. linebacker Junior Seau had a degenerative brain disease linked to repeated head trauma when he committed suicide last spring, the National Institutes of Health said Thursday.

The findings were consistent with chronic traumatic encephalopathy [CTE], a degenerative brain disease widely connected to athletes who have absorbed frequent blows to the head, the N.I.H. said in a statement.

Via ESPN, here’s a quick summary of what that diagnosis implies.

CTE is a progressive disease associated with repeated head trauma. Although long known to occur in boxers, it was not discovered in football players until 2005. Researchers at Boston University recently confirmed 50 cases of CTE in former football players, including 33 who played in the NFL.

That gets at what’s most troubling, to me at least, CTE has turned up again and again in the brains of NFL dead:

Since C.T.E. was diagnosed in the brain of the former Eagles defensive back Andre Waters after his suicide in 2006, the disease has been found in nearly every former player whose brain was examined posthumously. (C.T.E. can only be diagnosed posthumously.)

Researchers at Boston University, who pioneered the study of C.T.E., have found it in 18 of the 19 brains of former N.F.L. players they have examined.

I really like watching football.  I’ve dedicated a lot of Sundays to the pleasure.  I’ve got a friend down the block in my new neighborhood with whom I’ve become much more rapidly close that mostly happens with new acquaintances, a bond formed over our regular sessions in front of his TV and scotch bottle.  Last season we caught just about every Patriots game together.


This year not so much.  Partly, real life is to blame — mostly the desire to spend more time with a son on the verge of teenager-hood and the accompanying (and looming) irrelevance of Dad.  But really, I’m finding it harder and harder to recover my eagerness for the sport given this knowledge:  as I watch, say, this Sunday’s Patriots-Houston playoff, I’ll take my enjoyment from a game that — played correctly, within the rules — is doing an increment of what will add up to grievous harm for some of the people I’m watching right in front of me, at that moment.

A little context.  I love great writing more than I love any sport, and I’ve long thought some of the best non-fiction I’ve ever read comes in the form of A. J. Liebling’s boxing essays.  After I read Liebling — way back in the early eighties — I started watching some fights.  At its best, it’s a completely consuming spectacle, full of all that sport is supposed to provide, stories of courage, skill, smarts, human weakness, pure athletic astonishment, the lot.  But I couldn’t stick with it. This was before Muhammad Ali’s terrible decline became obvious, but it doesn’t take such a high profile case to make the point.  They coined the phrase “punch drunk” for a reason, and that reason is obvious to anyone who watches more than a bout or two.

Boxing’s raw, obvious, stripped to the skin.  The point is to render your opponent unconscious, to so rattle his (and now her) brain that he or she falls down.

Football is, of course, not quite so insistent on damage; the hits are in the service of the goal of advancing or preventing the movement of the ball.   But still, stories like Seau’s make clear the risks that flow from the game:   especially at the level where everyone is so ferociously big and strong, there’s a quite possibly large fraction of players who will suffer as Seau did — not to the point of suicide, necessarily, but to some form of damage.

Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote about this a few days ago, talking about his decision to walk away from watching the NFL, reached before this last season.  I didn’t come to his conclusion this last autumn; I didn’t give up on the game altogether.  But the moral and/or emotional logic that moved Ta-Nehisi  is getting harder and harder for me to ignore.  I’m just not sure how much longer I can keep watching.  Might not make it through the weekend.

A last note:  Here’s Tyler Seau on his father’s death (via TNC.)

“It makes me realize that he wasn’t invincible, because I always thought of him as being that guy. Like a lot of sons do when they look up to their dad. You know? You try to be like that man in your life. You try to mimic the things that he does. Play the game the way he did. Work the way he did. And, you know, now you look at it in a little bit different view.”

Tyler added: “Is it worth it? I’m not sure. But it’s not worth it for me to not have a dad. So to me it’s not worth it.”

To get unreasonably personal with you: I lost my dad to an accident when I was 10.  I learned a lot from dealing with the consequences of that event.  I can’t tell you how much I’d rather have foregone that education.  You know what I’m saying?

Image:  Joseph Wright of Derby, Three Persons Viewing the Gladiator by Candlelight, 1765

I Am Never Going To Be A Steelers Fan But…

January 4, 2012

…this is how a class (and smart) act behaves:

Ryan Clark sat down in Mike Tomlin’s office and did something a little out of character for the normally verbose Pittsburgh Steelerssafety. He listened.

And when Tomlin told Clark he couldn’t play in Sunday’s wild card game at Denver because of a sickle-cell trait that becomes aggravated when playing at higher elevations, Clark just shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

“I said `OK coach,”‘ Clark said Wednesday. “It wasn’t any fight … does he seem like a man who changes his mind anyway? I knew there wasn’t going to be any changing in that.”

And for that, Clark is grateful. If given the choice, Clark would give it a shot even when faced with potentially dire consequences.

“Y’all have seen me play, I run into people all the time, so clearly I’m not that bright,” Clark told reporters with a laugh.

Tomlin told Clark that if Tomlin’s son Dino was in the same situation, he wouldn’t let him play, the kind of blunt assessment that Clark has grown to appreciate during Tomlin’s five years on the job. (via Sports Illustrated)

I’ve been watching football for a long time now.  I enjoy doing so, though I find myself taking less and less pleasure in it over time, the more I learn about the way the game — played as directed — eats up and spits out young men.

(Alas, for the viewer, consider the alternatives):

Nothing in this story changes that essential dynamic, of course.  But at least Tomlin — and the Steelers organization — get one key fact right.  The game (even a playoff game, forsooth!) is not life.

Ordinarily, in a Denver v. Pittsburgh matchup, I’d be struggling to decide who to hate more. (Born in Raider country, spent more than half my life in the land of the Pats.)  Not this weekend.

Though I struggle to type it:

Go Stillers!

Image: Winslow Homer, The Croquet Game, 1864