What’s a dad to do?
We are supposed to keep our kids away from trouble; protected and safe from injury; as much as humanly possible.
Dads are obligated to make wise and prudent decisions for our children, steering them down the right path for as long as we can or are allowed to. (I’m still in charge at this point, as far as I know.)
So when the request — or better yet demand — to play full-contact football comes up, what should we as protectors and old wise fathers say … yes or hell no?
I’ll tell you that about 11 years ago, when my first son Zachary was born, I had him in one of those New Orleans Saints baby one-piece jobs and was already measuring his hand size.
Not that long ago, I had a list of every sport Zach was going to try, and football was near the top of the rundown.
Over the past five years, though, football has steadily fallen from its high ranking and is now struggling to retain a number.
I have serious reservations about his playing full-contact, helmet-and-shoulder pads football, especially at his young age and at state of being a wiry, 60-pounder soaking wet.
For the record, I’ve been around football all my life. I played many backyard rough and tumble games as a kid. I stayed with high school basketball primarily because I didn’t see much hope for a 125-pound scat back and because our hoops coach ruled with an iron fist and didn’t like us playing both sports.
In college, and in my 20s, there were enough flag football games to make me think there was really a Lance Alworth just waiting to be set free.
I’ve covered and reported on college and NFL football more than 30 years, and have been fortunate enough to watch, meet and interview some of the greats of the game, during their playing careers and after.
The after has opened my eyes and concerns me.
I’ve talked off the record to orthopedic doctors, sports medicine doctors and trainers over many years and have heard their expert opinions and in-the-trenches testimony change because of the research, new findings and day-to-day physical impact they’ve seen firsthand.
I remember when I was in high school our biggest player may have been 210-220 pounds, and there was only one of him. Now it’s not uncommon to have several 300-pounders on the same offensive and defensive lines. Prep linebackers and running backs can weigh anywhere from 190 to 230 pounds, run fast and hit like an F 150 truck.
I used to roam the sidelines, covering high school and McNeese (in my early years), then Alabama, Auburn, Florida State and NFL games. I may not have felt it personally and physically, but I’ve seen how football at the various levels has changed in terms of the sheer size and speed of the players.
Today’s football is brutal on the body. If you’re unconvinced, then witness a game … any game … up-close from the sidelines. You’ll see and hear what I’m talking about.
I remember having the late Walter Payton as an interview guest on a radio show during Super Bowl week. Payton had already retired from a long, record-setting NFL career. He set the all-time career rushing record at the time as the star running back for the Chicago Bears.
“Sweetness,” as he was known, possessed an aggressive running style. He didn’t shy away from contact, and delivered his fair share of hits. Over the years, Payton absorbed his share of punishment, as well.
He was one of the lucky ones, though. Payton looked great and didn’t show any outward signs of physical damage post-playing career. He’d later die from a rare liver cancer, but football wasn’t the culprit.
Many haven’t been as fortunate. The list grows, as former NFL players struggle with concussions, degenerative brain damage and chronic traumatic encephalopathy — or CTE — the latest acronym plaguing football; in particular the NFL.
Recently, two former Oakland Raiders who are past teammates of the late Kenny Stabler, have joined other ex-players who have agreed to donate their brains upon death for study and research into CTE.
Stabler was one of those former greats I met and covered while he was winding down his Hall of Fame career with the New Orleans Saints. I spent time around “The Snake” during the Saints’ training camps at old DodgerTown in Vero Beach, Fla.
He was funny, vibrant, engaging, edgy and, of course, opinionated.
Stabler was an NFL icon I grew up watching. He died much too young from colon cancer at 69. But it was troubling to learn his physical and mental condition was also worsened by late-stage brain damage from CTE.
Linemen, linebackers and defensive backs were the usual CTE victims. Now, it turned out, quarterbacks were not immune.
This hit home even further after meeting Hall of Fame Dallas Cowboys running back Tony Dorsett on recent television show appearances. Well before the release of the controversial film Concussion, Dorsett, who walked with a noticeable limp, spoke of his memory problems and severe headaches.
“I would leave a room and forget what I was going to do. Or I would be driving on an interstate in Dallas I drove hundreds of times and couldn’t remember how to get home,” I recall Dorsett telling us during his TV interviews.
It was telling and sad. I caught up with former McNeese and New Orleans Saints running back Buford Jordan at a charity golf tournament in May. We swapped updates about our families and busy schedules. He inquired about my two boys, and was interested in their favorite sports.
When the subject turned to my 10-year-old’s fascination with Odell Beckham, Jr., and making one handed catches, Jordan surprised me when I asked if his son Brandin was 10 years old again would Buford the dad let him play football.
“Absolutely not,” Jordan said without hesitation.
Brandin had a successful prep career at John Curtis before playing college ball at Southern Illinois.
Jordan, a member of McNeese’s Hall of Fame who at one time held the Louisiana record for most collegiate career rushing yards, was adamant when I asked him again about youths playing football.
He said he believes every football play that involves significant contact is like subjecting the body to a car crash. Jordan, who is 55 and stays in peak physical shape as a personal trainer, knows all too well the effects of those repeated football collisions.
“Nothing against the game that I still love …” Jordan said. But he believes the risks are just too high for young boys.
Keep Zachary playing basketball, baseball or golf was Buford’s parting advice.
The question over the best age to begin playing contact football is the critical debate right now. Some medical experts and studies say there should be no full-contact football until the youth is at least 12 or 13.
Noted forensic pathologist Dr. Bennet Omalu, on whom the movie Concussion was based, warns that no young man should consider playing football until he is at least 18, if at all.
Dads looking to do right by their sons can be overwhelmed by all the research, data and opinions about head trauma and joint injuries as effects of football.
I am justifiably skeptical of the NFL’s past concerns over players’ health and safety, along with concussions and brain trauma. But the league has led the way in rule reforms and stricter concussion protocols.
Youth football leagues, along with high schools, are teaching different and safer fundamentals that stress tackling with your head and helmet up and avoiding direct head-to-head contact.
College football is at the forefront — outlawing “targeting,” or full speed, high hits to opposing players’ heads and upper body.
It’s probably not enough to ease my concerns about youth football, but it’s a start.
I know the most serious cases of concussion damage, CTE and knee injuries involve NFL players who subject their bodies to many damaging hits. I know only a select very few ever get to that level of football.
I know the game can offer a young man important life lessons on discipline, leadership, sportsmanship, teamwork and work ethic.
But at what cost?
I love the youth flag football programs, like the Upward League organized and administered by Trinity Baptist Church in Lake Charles. It’s no doubt a safer and less physical football option.
But like my son Zachary, as the boys get older and more skilled, they yearn for the game played full-tilt on TV or their local high school.
Those 7 on 7 passing drills are a popular off-season option, but at present are still a gateway to pads and full contact.
What are worried dads to do?
I’m knee-deep in Steph Curry and Jason Day comparisons with Zach’s outside shot and skills with his 7 iron. He’s met Saints punter Thomas Morstead before a game, and seems mildly interested in my attempts at punting and kicking fundamentals.
I figure punting or kicking would be a safe haven.
But every time Odell makes another acrobatic, one-handed catch, I fear I’m losing the battle.
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