Tell Me Where it Hurts

“Everywhere,” I’m sure the young man would want to tell his doctor, mother, father, or coach.

“When did you first notice the blurred vision?”
“A few days after the accident,” I’m sure the young girl would remember to say.

“Can you tell me when your child became ‘different’?”
“A month after coming home from the hospital; at first I thought it was just the shock to the system, exhaustion, you know, but he’s just not the same person,” I’m sure a parent would want to reply.

Come on, look at all that tau, perhaps you should reconsider your calling.

A friend sent me a link to this Vice article about a recent episode of the the PBS show Frontline on the darker elements of the NFL.  To read more about and to watch the documentary League of Denial: The NFL’s Concussion Crisis, hop on over here.

Should we, the fans of contact sports, feel responsible for facilitating the growth of the institutionalized, behemoth of the NFL?  If we all stopped tuning in every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday, stopped browsing the web sites and abstained from fantasy football, would it make any difference?

Would there be a greater impact on the future of the NFL if parents were more reluctant to allow their sons (and the occasional daughter) participate in the kind of football that attracts athletic scholarships to university?

Imagine a generation of more and more boys and girls competing in baseball, tennis, and cross-country.

Every athletic activity comes with a set of risks, it comes down to one’s preference.  Dehydration, heat stroke/exhaustion, bruising, twisted ankles, fractured bones, dislocated appendages and phalanges, pulled/strained/torn muscles/ligaments/tendons — might any combination of the above be preferable to a concussion?

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