In Andrew Luck’s Retirement, Football’s Consequences Weigh Heavily


In the century that soccer has grown into the nation’s most-watched sport, the N.F.L. has anticipated gamers to behave like warriors prepared to suck up the ache and sacrifice their our bodies for the great of the crew, and to be grateful they’re paid handsomely to do it.

Yet at the same time as consciousness of the bodily toll of the game rises, the sudden retirement simply two weeks earlier than the beginning of the season by the Colts’ quarterback Andrew Luck at age 29 nonetheless supplied a jolt.

Luck, a former first general draft choose and one of many league’s brightest stars over the past seven seasons, mentioned Saturday he might now not take the years of ache and rehabilitation from a number of cringe-worthy accidents: a lacerated kidney, injured ribs, at the very least one concussion, torn cartilage in his throwing shoulder and, most just lately, a calf and ankle damage.

It was not the primary time a younger participant had stepped away supposedly within the prime of his or her profession — a number of have finished so lately — nevertheless it was one of many extra vivid examples of the altering dynamics of a league striving to painting the sport as safer than ever whereas its gamers more and more weigh the implications of continuous a profession the place the long-term bodily points solely construct because the seasons pile up.

Unlike in earlier eras, when gamers needed to grind out a decade or extra to take care of a excessive way of life, the monetary preparations of as we speak’s high gamers typically make it simpler to retire comfortably earlier than they hit 30.

Of course, Luck is not really young in football years. By the time most N.F.L. players reach his age, they have been playing tackle football for two decades or more.

Living with pain and overcoming injuries is a central feature of their lives, and many are trapped in a cycle of injuries and rehabilitation that wear on them mentally as well as physically. It is a toll that carries on long after they retire.

“I feel tired, and not just in the physical sense,” Luck said Saturday. “The lack of progress just builds up and you turn the corner and run into another stumbling block.”

Luck responded to the year of hard work with a throwback season in 2018. He played all 16 games, passing for 4,593 yards and 39 touchdowns, both of which were the second-best marks of his career. With a 10-6 record, Luck led the Colts back to the playoffs after a three-year absence.

The future once again looked bright for Luck, the son of a well-known football executive, who after a standout career at Stanford stepped in to replace Peyton Manning as the face of the Colts.

Still, though Luck said on Saturday that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders with his decision to retire, some fans could not abide his decision. A round of boos greeted him as he left the field of a preseason game Saturday at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis as news outlets began reporting his decision.

Randy Grimes, a former player for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers who struggled with injuries and now helps athletes overcome addiction to painkillers, said he was not surprised. In his view, little has changed since he last played in 1992.

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

“It’s always being in the training room and not being part of practice,” Grimes said. “That in itself forces you into a place of isolation and on an island even when you’re in the middle of it but alone.”

Some players — including Grimes during his career — have coped with the injuries and isolation by taking addictive painkillers that numb the pain but leave them with dangerous addictions. Other players grapple with the depression that comes from being in constant pain.

Then there is the ongoing issue of potential cognitive decline caused by repeated head hits. The N.F.L. has changed many rules of the game to reduce the number of dangerous plays, placed independent neurologists on the sidelines during games and strengthened its return-to-play protocols. Even so, many retired players struggle with memory loss, impulse control issues and in some cases, suicidal thoughts.

Most players have heard about former teammates with these and other struggles and some like Luck want to leave the game before it consumes them as well.

Players of Luck’s generation now consider a more ruthless calculation of health versus money, and that is putting them in conflict with team owners, who are always looking for more football, not less.

As they did during labor talks in 2011, the owners are pushing to extend the regular season from 16 to 18 games, and to expand the playoff calendar. The players are once again pushing back. They made concessions eight years ago so they could get more time off in the off-season and fewer practices with pads during the season.

The owners hope they can dangle enough money in front of the players to get them to change their minds. The players, on the other hand, are pushing for the league to lift its ban on the use of marijuana for pain relief.

“The conversation around 18 games is absurd, especially when the league is talking about player safety,” Borland said. “Late in the season, when teams are still playing Thursday night games, the locker room looks like a trauma ward.”

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. Comeback Player of the Year Award, was not enough to keep him going. He was bothered by injuries to his calf and ankle this year and had barely practiced this off-season.

On Saturday, he told reporters he wavered about whether to stop playing. But over time he recognized that he spent the past four years on a never-ending cycle of trying to get healthy, and that he needed to break that loop.

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

“I’ve come to the proverbial fork in the road,” he said Saturday, “and I made a vow to myself if I ever did again, I would choose me in a sense.”

Ben Shpigel contributed reporting.



Source link Nytimes.com

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