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I Wanted to Play Football for the Coach, But Now I Hate Football
Once avid fan disdains its inherent violence, potential for brain damage
Feb. 10, 2024 Update: With the Super Bowl tomorrow, I thought it might be time to give this piece some more attention.
When I was a teenager, I idolized Joe Namath, whose poster on my bedroom wall depicted the quarterback about to throw one of his majestic bombs that led his New York Jets upset the Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III in January 1969.
The Jets’ training camp used to be located at Hofstra University, where in my freshman year I once caught a glimpse of Namath practicing in his waning professional days.
A tall but slightly built wide receiver, I briefly played football in high school, but was injured in practice when a ball skimmed my hand, separating two fingers with an inch-long gash.
The mind can play tricks on you. I had no idea about the hole in my hand until I moved into the set position and saw the blood oozing across my knuckles. It wasn’t until I turned around my hand and saw the damage inflicted did it hurt. Once healed the next spring, I concentrated on playing tennis, and I would win half of my matches as the third-best singles player.
It’s practically…
