“I speak the truth not so much as I would, but as much as I dare, and I dare a little more as I grow older.” ~Michel de Montaigne
In an NFL game between the Eagles and Falcons, there was an extraordinary collision that spoke to all that I love and despise about football, the sport that was and is a great part of my life. It was a play run countless times each football weekend: the quarterback throws a pass to his receiver running a crossing route, wherein said receiver DeSean Jackson is greeted – violently – by cornerback Dunta Robinson. The result of the high-speed tackle was unconsciousness, times two. A double knockout blow that stopped the game, emptied both team sidelines of their medical teams for assessment and players for hand-holding prayer. Seventy thousand spectators watched and prayed and hoped that their Hero’s would arise. That scene, that violence that level of injury – and yes I assure you their were two brain injuries – is the part of the game that I despise .
Finally, after a relative eternity in which helpless fans, coach’s and players quietly waited, both players were helped to their feet, then off the field as the crowd applauded in relief. As Dunta and DeShaun passed each in route to respective sidelines, they paused and asked one another if they “were okay?” That profound display of respect and sportsmanship, just minutes after play that damaged both, is the part of the game that I love. PK