In Andrew Luck's retirement, the consequences of football weigh heavily



[ad_1]

During the century when it became the most watched sport in the nation, the N.F.L. expects players to act as warriors willing to absorb the pain and sacrifice their bodies for the good of the team, and to be grateful paid generously to do it.

Despite the awareness of the physical weight of the sport, the sudden withdrawal of Colts quarterback Andrew Luck at the age of 29, just two weeks before the start of the season, still upset.

Luck, a former draft pick and one of the league's brightest stars in the past seven seasons, said Saturday that he could no longer stand the years of pain and rehab. a multitude of serious injuries: a torn kidney, injured ribs, at least one concussion, torn cartilage in his throwing shoulder and, more recently, a calf and ankle injury.

It was not the first time a young player had withdrawn so-called at the beginning of his career – many have done so in recent years – but this is one of the most striking examples of the changing dynamics of a league seeking to represent the game as safe as ever while its players are weighing more and more the consequences of pursuing a career where long-term physical problems only grow as the seasons go by.

Of course, luck is not very young in football. By the time most N.F.L.L. players are reaching their age, they have been playing football for two decades or more.

Living with pain and overcoming injuries are an integral part of their lives, and many are trapped in a cycle of injuries and re-education that weighs on them both on the mental and the physical. It's a toll that lasts a long time after their retirement.

"I feel tired, not just physically," Luck said Saturday. "The lack of progress only gets worse and you take the turn and meet another hurdle."

The future announces again for Luck, the son of a well-known football executive, who, after a distinguished career at Stanford, replaces Peyton Manning at Colts Post.

Despite everything, although Luck said Saturday that a weight had been removed from his shoulders with his decision to retire, some fans could not support his decision. A wave of bastards greeted him as he was leaving the pitch for a pre-season game Saturday at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis as news outlets began reporting on his decision.

Randy Grimes, a former Tampa Bay Buccaneer player who has battled injuries and now helps athletes overcome their addiction to painkillers, said he was not surprised. In his opinion, little has changed since his last participation in 1992.

Players are competitive, coaches are competitive, owners want a return on investment and fans just want to watch football. Confluence often conspires to force players to make decisions that are not in the best interest of their health in the long run.

"It's still in the training room and in practice," said Grimes. "In itself, it forces you to stay isolated and on an island, even if you are in the middle of it but you are alone."

Some players – including Grimes during his career – have overcome injuries and isolation by taking addictive painkillers that numb the pain but leave them with a dangerous addiction. Other players are struggling with depression resulting in constant pain.

Then comes the problem of potential cognitive decline caused by repeated blows to the head. N.F.L. has changed many of the rules of the game to reduce the number of dangerous games, has placed independent neurologists on the sidelines of matches and strengthened its protocols of return to play. Despite this, many retired players are fighting against memory loss, impulse control problems and, in some cases, suicidal thoughts.

Most players have heard of former teammates struggling with these difficulties and others, and some, like Luck, want to leave the game even before it consumes them.

Generation Luck players are now considering a more ruthless calculation of health over money, which puts them in conflict with team owners, who are always looking for more football, not less.

As in the 2011 labor negotiations, homeowners are striving to move the regular season from 16 to 18 games and extend the playoff schedule. The players are pushing again. They made concessions eight years ago to be able to have more free time in the low season and less practice with pads in season.

The owners hope to have enough money in front of the players to change their minds. The players, in contrast, are pushing the league to lift its ban on using marijuana to relieve pain.

"The conversation around 18 matches is absurd, especially when the league is talking about player safety," Borland said. "At the end of the season, while the teams are still playing Thursday night games, the locker room looks like a trauma room."

Luck knows this better than most players, having missed 26 games in his N.F.L. career. Even his successful return last season, when he won the N.F.L. The title of player of the year of Comeback was not enough to maintain it. He had been injured in the calf and ankle this year and had barely practiced this off season.

On Saturday, he told reporters that he was reluctant to stop playing. But over time, he acknowledged that he had spent the last four years in an endless cycle of trying to get in good health, and that he needed to break that loop.

Two weeks ago, he said, he decided to leave N.F.L. train and focus on himself.

"I came to the fork in the road," he said Saturday, "and I vowed if I did it again, I would choose one way."

Ben Shpigel contributed to the report.

[ad_2]

Source link