The Hits Keep On Coming (And That's Not A Good Thing)

            First, I want to thank you everyone for your patience while I was away from this blog. I’m glad to be back writing again. My first one back is sort of about sports, but is about something bigger really. Hopefully the non-sports fans out there won’t tune it out right away.

This past weekend I settled in like I always do for some football. There was the usual wide array of college games Saturday followed by the first NFL Sunday of the season. I’ve loved football since I was very little, which is no surprise for a kid growing up in South Bend, where the presence of Notre Dame turns Saturdays in the fall into special events.  Going back as far as I can remember I watched the games, going so far as to maintain my own scoreboard in the family room on a chalkboard. I kept running totals of not just the score but passes, runs and “hurts” (injuries).

The odd thing is it’s that last category that has changed the way I view the sport now. Science is just now beginning to understand the true nature of the violent hits that are such a beloved part of the NFL, which is, sad to say for a baseball nut such as me, the current national pastime.

Violence has always been a selling point for football. The battles in the trenches between the offensive and defensive lines, the hits and the willingness of the players to play with injuries were glorified for decades. Hard-hitting defenses were given nicknames like the “Steel Curtain” and “Doomsday.” NFL Films made money by putting out VHS tapes compiling the roughest and toughest hits, called “Crunch Time” that were devoured by fans anxious to see more slow-motion shots of players being separated from their senses and hearing the crunch of helmets and pads. Players were encouraged to get back out there if they saw stars after taking a big hit.

Those days seem antiquated now to me, as we are beginning to see just how much damage these men sustained for our entertainment. Studies of former players show an abnormally large percentage of these men have suffered from clinical depression, pre-Alzheimers and other serious ailments. Organizations such as the Sports Legacy Institute and the Blanchette Rockefeller Neurosciences Institute have been collecting the brains of dead players. Their findings have stunned the most experienced brain specialists in the country. They have found the brains of 40-year-old men riddled with Tau, a substance that destroys parts of the brain that can affect emotions and function.

NOTE: A lot of the information in this post comes from a great piece in GQ magazine written by Jeanne Marie Laskas. It's worth a read and you can find it here. It was also featured in "The Best American Sports Writing, 2010."

            The list of players suffering from mental issues and depression in their post-career lives continues to grow and grow. Dave Duerson, a member of my favorite team of all time, the 1985 Chicago Bears (known for a hard-hitting defense) committed suicide this past year and did so by shooting himself in the heart. Why the heart? Because he wanted to donate his brain to find out what the hell was wrong with him and so many others.  Boxer Roy Jones Jr. has agreed to donate his brain to a study as well.

 It is no big secret that repetitive concussions caused long-term damage. Top players such as Al Toon and Steve Young among others have been forced to retire from the NFL due to concussions years before these studies were done. The problem was that men who had not been diagnosed with full-blown concussions were suffering as well. In other words, no one was safe.

A study at the University of Oklahoma put censors in the helmets of players and found that linemen were sustaining large g-forces on their brains on every single play whether they realized it or not. Another troubling study of high school players in Indiana found the same thing. This study also gave players a test before the season began measuring their brain function. The players’ scores were noticeably lower after the season was over. After only one season. High school kids. The ones who heal faster and more completely than any age group. It only gets worse from there.

Strangely enough, the most effective solution (short of banning football, which makes way too much money for high schools, colleges, professional team owners and big media companies to ever be seriously considered) is also the most counter-intuitive.

Take the helmets away.

On the surface that may seem crazy, but what really happens is the players feel like they are wearing a suit of armor when the aforementioned studies clearly show they are not. Anyone watching football has seen players launch themselves at opponents, using their shoulder pads and helmets as weapons. The gear makes them feel invincible.

But tackling is inevitable, right? Yes it is, but it’s the technique that can be altered. Rugby involves tackling too, but there are far fewer brain injuries in rugby. Why? They don’t wear helmets. Watch a high-level rugby match and you’ll see on a tackle-by-tackle basis, they simply aren’t smashing into each other the way American football players do. In rugby they try to grab around the waist or legs and fall with the ballcarrier. They do not launch themselves at him, because…well, because that would hurt and rugby is plenty rugged enough. They tackle but they don’t hit. That’s a big difference. Sure there are huge collisions at times in rugby. It happens. But it happens in baseball once in a while too on plays at the plate or when two outfielders go for the same pop fly. But they aren’t taking huge g-force loads to the head every single play.

Will helmets be taken away? Of course not. Again, way too much money involved. Science will work to make helmets safer (a fool’s errand mostly) and the sport will try to instill penalties for helmet-to-helmet collisions that will lessen the players’ incentive to crack each other in the head (this is the most effective practical method of making the game safer because if hitting an opponent in the head hurt teams’ chances of winning it could change the way tackling is taught).

            There is a kid playing high school football this year I like a lot. He’s a good kid who loves being on his team, and I’m proud to be his friend and go to his games. But I worry about him. I want his brain to come out of this on the other side intact. I found myself for the first time last weekend wincing at big hits more than cheering them, just because I know more of how a players’ brain can bounce around in his skull even on the plays that don’t seem that rough.

            I still love football. I love the crowds, the strategies and the athleticism. I also think I would still love it if they found a way to take some of the violence out of it that is turning our heroes into troubled and damaged middle-aged people.  In fact, I might be even more proud to be a fan if they did.