A career of concussions: Football damaged my brain and it didn't have to happen
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Due to the size and speed of today's football players, the kinetic energy they generate during hits can have long-term consequences. Here's my story.
My football career began at age 11 in 1970 when I suited up for the West Stockton Bear Cubs, the first Pee Wee Pop Warner team fielded in Stockton, Calif. Of the 29 kids on the team, three went on to sign NFL contracts in 1980 (myself -- sixth round, New York Jets; Jack Cosgrove -- eighth round, Seattle Seahawks; Pat Bowe -- free agent, Green Bay Packers).
During my third year of Pop Warner, I was hospitalized when I knocked myself unconscious during a tackling drill. The exercise was a needless bull-in-the-ring drill that was more of a gladiator competition for the coaches' amusement than a means of teaching useful techniques to young players.
The coaches had us form a big circle about 25 yards across and numbered the 40 of us 1 to 20 on each side. When your number was called, you and the player on the other side with the same number sprinted directly at each other and hit head-to-head.
Concussions followed throughout my high school career, though I never missed a game or practice. In my senior year, we went 11-0 and ranked No. 3 in California. I was selected to the All-America Top 100 Team.
I entered the University of Colorado on a football scholarship in 1976 as a 6-foot, 5-inch 235-pound defensive tackle, majoring in biology. I was a starter for three years and suffered a number of minor concussions, but I never missed a play except after leg injuries.
In 1980, I was drafted into the NFL by the New York Jets at 259 pounds. The Jets had me beef up to 275 pounds. I was cut at the end of preseason but was picked up by the San Francisco 49ers early in the regular season.
On my first play with the 49ers in the first quarter against Dallas, I suffered a major concussion but played the entire game. The trainers told me afterward I went through 25 to 30 smelling salts on the sidelines. They would give me a handful each time I came out, I'd pop a couple, clear the cobwebs and go back in. We laughed about it as I watched the game films the next day and didn't remember a single play. Still, I never missed a practice.
First Published December 26, 2010 12:00 am
