
Hall of Fame running back Jim Brown once told me, "Football is the closest thing to war, besides war itself." At the time, I thought it was a strange comment and analogy to make.
In the real world, war is life and death while football is just a game. Yeah, you get hurt in football, but those injuries are badges of honor. I played football in college. I was a back peddling defensive back. Every year my team and I got our butts beat by Slippery Rock U. It may be a funny name for a school, but everyone who went there was a P.E. major and they made sure you weren't snickering at the name at the end of the game. I loved playing football. The camaraderie was nice, but to be honest, the primary benefit was it made me a B.M.O.C. (Big Man on Campus) and that made dating a whole hell of a lot easier. Scoring a date was more important to me then scoring a touchdown. I remember the pain of starting fall practice. How even eating could be agonizing. The pain of being run over in a game by a 225 pound fullback who happened to leave bodies in his wake as he ran through our front 7 and took dead on aim on me, a 170 pound defensive back. Sometimes I made the tackle. All the time, I felt I just wanted them to dig a hole and bury me on the spot to make the ringing in my head and pain go away. Even as a young guy I knew sports equaled pain.
Most of us are players. Few of us are truly athletes. Those who are good and strong enough to play professional sports are truly unique. In their respective sports, they are at the pantheon of their competition: great athletes, great skills, great competition, great games, great sacrifice and great pain. It's all part of the pro athlete's life.
With one foot in pro athletics through sportscasting and one foot in the real world, I can honestly say the "average" Joe or Mary will never understand or appreciate a pro athlete's reality. That's not meant as a criticism, but a statement of fact. The "average" Joe and Mary couldn't deal with the harsh nature of the pro athlete's world. Signed today, cut tomorrow. And, the physical and mental commitment and pain is beyond the average person's endurance.
Over the years, I've found what's most interesting about a pro athlete is how he views himself, his career, his fear of failure and the end of his career. How a pro athlete's career ends is both compelling and fascinating. In most cases, rarely are they prepared for the end because that means getting on with the rest of their lives in the real world. The common desire is to have some control over when their career ends and how it ends. Rarely does that happen. For every Michael Jordan, John Elway and Nolan Ryan "at the top and on my terms" career endings, there many more careers ended prematurely by injury, the salary cap or someone bigger, stronger and better.
One question always in the mind of the "average" Joe and Mary is when an athlete gets seriously hurt, why continue? The answer is complex and only truly understood by athletes. Two cases in point are the 49es Steve Young and the Philadelphia Flyers Eric Lindros. Both have suffered multiple and serious concussions. Concussions can cause short and long term damage like headaches, vomiting, vision problems and forgetfulness. Merrill Hoge, a former running back for the Pittsburgh Steelers, had more concussions then he can remember-- the effects of each lasting longer and longer. His forgetfulness got so bad, he couldn't leave his house without a card in his wallet with his address because he couldn't remember where he lived and how to get there. Lindros has suffered 6 concussions in two years. Young has suffered multiple concussions as well, plus the times he had his "bell rung" but it wasn't designated on the injury report as a concussion.
After looking at the specific cases, we come back to the original question, why continue? Pro athletes are warriors. They are conditioned mentally and physically to endure pain and to continue the sports quest. They believe they are bullet proof and nothing can stop them. Sure there's management pressure to prove they are tough enough to be a pro. Sure there's a pride and driving force to show their teammates and fellow gladiators they are tough and deserving of being called a "pro". And, while sports is a game, for the pro athlete, in the final analysis, the game is a battle for respect, glory and personal dignity. For Young, that respect, glory and dignity isn't lying motionless on the turf at Sun Devil Stadium with the world watching on Monday Night Football. For Lindros, lying motionless on the ice after a Scott Stevens hit in the Stanley Cup Playoffs isn't the last image he wants others to have of his career.
Great warriors get carried off the battlefield on their shields, but return to fight another battle. Anything less is honor-less. The analogy may be romantic, idealistic and antiquated, but in the pro athletes' mind commitment and honor are what their pro life is all about. Jim Brown was right. It is the closest thing to war without it being war itself. There are casualties in both, but the commitment and honor of having fought the good battle in both are the foundation for lifelong character. When it's all said and done, the pro athlete is left with the memory and hopefully the satisfaction of having a career in which he won and lost battles, but survived and is maybe even lucky enough to feel he won the war.
I feel better now.
I'm Ron Barr.
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