Article: No pity party for today's players

bbgun

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America's Newest 'Victims'
Retired NFL players discover football was bad for their bodies. What were they expecting?

BY MARK YOST
The Wall Street Journal
Tuesday, February 13, 2007 12:01 a.m. EST


There's a new class of victims in America: former NFL players. In the week leading up to Super Bowl XLI, the sports media were awash with stories of former NFL players hobbled by long-term disabilities from their playing days. HBO's "Real Sports With Bryant Gumbel" profiled former NFL offensive lineman Conrad Dobler. The New York Times ran a Super Bowl Sunday front-page story on former New England Patriots All Pro linebacker Ted Johnson, who claims he suffered multiple concussions during his 10-year career and is now addicted to amphetamines. Both are blaming the NFL and calling for reform of the pension and medical-disability system. And this past weekend, ESPN's "Outside the Lines" program featured former NFL players who say they're still suffering the effects of their careers.

There's no doubt that many former players are physical wrecks. But should we feel sorry for them? After all, many players reveled in the fact that they could punish their bodies week after week and continue to play. Noticeably absent from this debate is any discussion about the personal responsibility these players bear for their post-career conditions.

Mr. Dobler is a textbook case. He was a three-time Pro Bowler who played 10 seasons in the NFL from 1972 to 1981. There's no denying that his knees are destroyed, and after many operations he manages to hobble around at best. He said he takes about 150 Vicodin a month to dull the pain. But anyone who remembers Mr. Dobler from his playing days will have little sympathy for him.

"Conrad Dobler was a pit bull without a leash on the field," ESPN wrote when fans voted him No. 6 among the dirtiest players of all time. "He didn't care who he hurt, how he hurt, and who saw him hurt. He even went as far to write a book called 'They Call Me Dirty' to proclaim he didn't have a care about anyone's health."

Mr. Dobler isn't alone. Oakland Raiders defensive back Jack Tatum is unapologetic to this day for a 1978 hit that paralyzed New England Patriots wide receiver Darryl Stingley. Famous defensive units over the years have included the Fearsome Foursome, the Purple People Eaters and the Steel Curtain. In short, the NFL has never been confused with the Bolshoi.

"In football, that's the way it is," New York Giants center Shaun O'Hara told the Times. "If it's not bleeding and it's not completely broken, rub dirt on it and let's go. There is that machismo in there, and also the ego from the player's standpoint that, 'Hey, I can play through this.' "

Mr. Johnson certainly did that. He admits that he continued to play, even though he knew he was suffering from repeated concussions. Furthermore, he didn't tell Patriots coaches or trainers about his recurring injuries for fear that he would lose his starting job (and starting salary). Amazingly, these self-incriminating facts haven't kept Mr. Johnson from blaming Patriots coach Bill Belichick and the team medical staff for his long-term ailments. But if the Patriots didn't know that he was hurt, how can he blame them for continuing to play him?

Because these players were well compensated during their playing careers, it will be hard for juries to sympathize with them.

Mr. Dobler made a fraction of what players make today, but he and his contemporaries weren't exactly paid slave wages. His first contract in 1971 with the St. Louis Cardinals was for $17,000, double the U.S. median single male income of $8,722. His last contract with the Buffalo Bills in 1981 was for about $50,000, more than double the U.S. median single male income of $19,889. What happened to that money? Did he save for his retirement, or buy long-term disability insurance?

Today's players, like Mr. Johnson, haven't any reason to cry poverty. In 2003, Mr. Johnson was paid a base salary of $650,000, but with signing and performance bonuses his total compensation came to more than $4 million. Where is that money today? Why does Mr. Johnson feel that the league, the NFL Players Association and the Patriots should be responsible for his condition and his medical bills?

Further undermining the players' efforts to portray themselves as victims is the fact that they're represented by sophisticated sports agents and a union that hasn't completely ignored the issue. The union pays out about $16 million a year in retirement benefits, and the latest Collective Bargaining Agreement, negotiated in March 2006, included more than $50 million in enhanced medical and pension benefits. Yes, it's a pittance for a league that brings in almost $4 billion a year just in television revenues, but the NFL pension plan was never designed to be a player's primary source of post-retirement income.

There's also a bit of union politics at play here. Some players don't like Gene Upshaw, the former Oakland Raiders All Pro lineman who's the current head of the union. Many think he's too cozy with the league.

It's true that he isn't your typical union boss. He doesn't pick fights with the league just to harass it. Instead, he fights the important battles. In the last labor agreement, he negotiated hard to get players a bigger share of television revenues and a piece of the lucrative local revenues that are generated by entrepreneurial big-market teams like the Washington Commanders and Dallas Cowboys.

In the end, what this comes down to is money. Many of the older players, who made $50,000 a year, are jealous of today's players, who make $5 million. And the worst cases, like Mr. Dobler, are being held up as the norm instead of the exception. "What you don't hear about is the guys we help," Mr. Upshaw said at a press conference during Super Bowl XLI.

More important, what you don't hear is anyone asking if these former players bear any personal responsibility for the financial and physical plight in which they find themselves.

Mr. Yost is the author of "Tailgating, Sacks and Salary Caps: How the NFL Became the Most Successful Sports League in History" (Kaplan, 2006).
 

theogt

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There's no doubt that old players bear personal responsibility for their own health issues. There's also no doubt that old players bear some personal responsibility for the success of the league.

From a pure financial standpoint it doesn't make a lot of sense for the league to voluntarily provide larger pensions and health benefits. That doesn't mean it's not the "right" thing to do, though.

Also, Ted Johnson is pretty poor example. Mr. Yost simply saw some low-hanging fruit and ran with it.
 

burmafrd

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As usual a clear agenda is clear. And as usual you only get a part of the truth.
the league should do more; the union had to be publicly EMBARRASED to do more. And it should be noted that for many of the players from the 80's on back did not have the benefit of modern medical knowledge about the long term effects of their play.
That said, there is personal responsibility here as well- especially for the younger players from the 90s on up. Lots of money and much more medical knowledge. the old players are the ones that deserve more help. Not the younger ones.
 
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