Tyler Sash, a former New York Giants safety who died last September from an accidental overdose of pain medications at the age of 27, has been posthumously diagnosed with chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a progressive degenerative brain disease believed to be caused by repetitive brain trauma. The New York Times reported that Dr. Ann McKee, chief of neuropathology at the V.A. Boston Healthcare System and a professor of neurology and pathology at the Boston University School of Medicine, found that Sash’s CTE levels were comparable to those of the late Junior Seau. Seau, who was posthumously inducted into the Hall of Fame last year, committed suicide at the age of 43…. “Even though he was only 27, he played 16 years of football, and we’re finding over and over that it’s the duration of exposure to football that gives you a high risk for CTE. Certainly, 16 years is a high exposure,” McKee said.
With the Super Bowl kicking off in a few days, it seems like a good time to consider our relationship with our national obsession. More specifically, what should the future of football look like? Can it be a safer game? Can we better protect those who play football?
I’ve made no secret of my love for football, just as I’ve also made no secret of my concerns over the safety record of America’s national obsession. Though an intensely dangerous game under the best of circumstances, recent revelations have shown just how risky playing football can be to one’s long-term health. The death of Tyler Sash is something football-obsessed Americans will neither well-note nor long-remember, but to those concerned about the future of football, his passing should serve as a cautionary tale. It should force us to examine to nature of the game and it’s future. Tyler Sash could just as easily be our child, our husand, our brother, our father, or our friend.
The problem now is that our knowledge of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), while growing with the passage of time, is still comparatively limited. Currently, it can only be diagnosed post-mortem, meaning there’s no effective preventive protocols designed to protect players from repeated traumatic brain injuries. Certainly, the increased emphasis on and awareness of concussions is a good thing. In many (hopefully most) cases, players are pulled from games when they show concussion-like symptoms…but even that may be too late. By the time a player is diagnosed with a concussion, they’ve suffered a traumatic brain injury…and brains don’t heal like broken bones or muscle pulls. In fact, there’s evidence showing that damage done by TBIs is significant, cumulative, and long-term.
Since CTE is a progressive disease, it can impact football players at all levels of the sport. Last fall, research conducted by the Department of Veteran Affairs and Boston University found evidence of CTE in 87 of 91 deceased former NFL players.
But another recent study out of the Mayo Clinic found that even amateur athletes were susceptible to CTE after finding the disease in the brains of 21 of 66 males who had played contact sports when they were young.
At some point, we the football-viewing public need to decide if our national obsession is worth the bodies, brains, perhaps even the lives of young men who in many cases are out of the game by the time they’re Sash’s age. Most will be out of the game long before they turn 30, but the damage done can in some cases linger for the rest of their lives.
Granted, no one forces anyone to play football. Those who do play understand the brutal, violent nature of the game. They recognize the truth that every play may be their last. Some are willing to take the risks, whatever they may be. Athletes are trained to play through pain and injury, so the idea of playing through a head injury is nothing unusual. I know; I’ve done it myself. I was a goalkeeper on my college’s soccer team. During my final season, over six months spent playing for an amateur side and my college’s team, I suffered seven concussions…that I know of. There may well have been more; I honestly don’t know, but it was back in the days when you “got your bell rung,” you woke up on the sideline…and you went back into the game. I’ve been fortunate thus far; there seem to be no lingering long-term effects (Except for the jokes: “Seven concussion? That explains a lot!). The same often can’t be said for athletes who play a game involving impacts equivalent to automobile accidents on almost every play.
Are we willing to recognize the truth? Can we own up to the reality that our national obsession may well be sacrificing athletes on the alter of our entertainment? How many more Junior Seaus, Dave Duersons, or Mike Websters will we have to bury before we admit that something needs to be done? Will the game be able to adapt, take better care of its players, and survive into the future? Or will we see a modern-day version of Teddy Roosevelt outlawing football because of the toll it exacts from those who play it?
Stay tuned. There are far more questions than answers.
