I thought I’d be a 49ers Fan for Life
I won’t be watching the Super Bowl, and you shouldn’t either. Ignoring the sport’s crisis sends the wrong message to our next generation.
I grew up in the 80s and 90s as a huge Bay Area sports fan. The San Francisco 49ers were at the top of the list. From the end of the Montana era through the Steve Young-Jerry Rice dynasty to the short-lived Jeff Garcia years, I could name every starter on the team, as well as the depth chart at most positions. As a kid, I cut out 49ers newspaper clippings from the San Francisco Examiner and turned player photographs into homemade trading cards. I wrote to players requesting their autographs; I still have the signed Brent Jones photo from one of those letters. Every Sunday during the season meant at least four hours carved out in front of the television.
When I wasn’t physically playing sports, I was simulating the pros through old-school sports games on our Macintosh computer. PlayMaker Football was my favorite. (EA Sports and Madden wasn’t really a thing yet, and even if it was I never would been allowed to have a video game console in the house.) I recreated the league, manually loaded in the real-life rosters, designed the plays, and clicked through full seasons of game, keeping both standings and statistics. The Niners were the perennial champions, relying on the Steve Young to Ricky Watters screen pass.
Touch football was a frequent recess and after-school pickup activity throughout elementary and middle school, up there with kickball and basketball. I never played organized tackle football. I didn’t have tremendous size or strength, but I sometimes wonder whether I would have at least tried out for wide receiver or cornerback if I hadn’t discovered soccer as my primary sport. By high school, my friends and I would play tackle football on a neighborhood grass field a few times a year. No helmet, no pads. Just the ball. Taking cue from the pros, we made some runs up the middle, leading with the head. Although we didn’t really know what it was at the time, at least several concussions ensued — I personally recall at least one. We just knew that when our bodies and heads ached too much it was time to stop.
In college, football was also a big deal. I was a student season ticket holder my first two years. Stanford was a top-25 team, a frequent Rose Bowl contender, and a Big Game winner seven years running. My Niners fandom continued even though the team was fading, cycling through quarterbacks from Garcia to a few forgettable names and a young, struggling Alex Smith. In adulthood, fantasy football brought a new way for my obsession with sports statistics to return and a new reason to follow the National Football League as close as possible. For more than a decade, I played in several leagues with friends, constantly checking game updates on the internet and later on the phone during game days and jumping on the waiver wire during the week.
It has now been three years since I’ve watched a football game or followed the NFL. Until 2018, I had watched every Super Bowl as far back as I can remember. Prior to that season, I emailed my Fantasy Football friends to tell them that I was done. I now avoid football-themed bar gatherings. I skip the NFL and college football sections on the ESPN app and in the newspaper’s sports section. I won’t cheer on my alma mater and I don’t cheer for the Niners. It has helped that there hasn’t been much to cheer for. For three seasons Jim Harbaugh, Colin Kaepernick, and a stellar defense made the Niners must-see TV, but otherwise the teams have fallen between mediocre to awful.
Admittedly, the 49ers sudden success this year has challenged my avoidance of the league and the game. The 2019 team is a classic sports success story: a worst-to-first turnaround, a high-priced quarterback finally realizing his promise, redemption for an aging veteran in Richard Sherman, a no-name workhorse backfield by committee, and a fearsome defense led by an in-your-face rookie. The Niners will now be back in the Super Bowl for the first time since 2013 and only the second time in 25 years. Yet, on February 2nd, I will be continuing my boycott. I highly encourage everyone else to tune out as well.
As a league carried on the shoulder of black athletes, the breaking point for me was the blacklisting of Kaepernick and the racism masquerading as patriotism from fans, front offices, and a President disparaging the players’ freedom of speech and their courage to take a knee in the name of racial injustice and human rights. Although this topic returned to the spotlight briefly this fall when the NFL scheduled a farcical workout for Kaepernick, the urgency of issues brought forth by the players and the disturbing response it garnered has mostly faded into the background this year.
However, there is an even bigger reason that I cannot imagine ever returning as a football fan. Knowing what we know now about the long-term effects of concussions and the devastating impact of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (better known as CTE), I find it irresponsible for anyone to support the game, particularly while it continues to flourish in popular culture and in the fascination of our children. The NFL still barely acknowledges the game’s dangers. As a result, millions of youth continue to watch players hit the gridiron every Sunday. They dream to be on that field, either unaware of the risks to health and life or convinced to believe these risks are all worth it for a chance at temporary glory.
In 2017, a study published in The Journal of the American Medical Association reported that of 110 of 111 deceased former NFL players whose brains were studied at the Boston University School of Medicine had CTE. CTE is a progressive degenerative disease that can result from repetitive head trauma, including not only concussions but asymptomatic hits as well. Currently, the disease can only be diagnosed after death. Niners legend Dwight Clark (remember “The Catch”?!) had CTE. He died of Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, suspected to be a result of his football days. Hall of Famers Mike Webster, Ken Stabler, and Frank Gifford are among those who were debilitated as a result of CTE. Eight years ago, the legendary linebacker Junior Seau committed suicide at the age of 43, shooting himself in the chest in order to preserve his brain for research. Andre Waters, Dave Duerson, Ray Easterling, Terry Long, were Rashaan Salaam were all renowned players who committed suicide and were known or suspected to have suffered from CTE.
This disease plagues men while they are still young as well, and its destruction extends well beyond the players themselves. Several of those whose brains were studied died in their 20s, some from freak “accidents” (see Chris Henry or Tyler Sash) or others from suicide. Aaron Hernandez, subject of a fascinating new Netflix documentary that touches on this subject, was a 24-year-old New England Patriots when he was convicted of murder (and later acquitted of two others). He hung himself from his prison cell at the age of 27. Jovan Belcher died in a murder-suicide at the age of 25. He shot himself in the parking lot of his employer, the Kansas City Chiefs, after killing Kasandra Perkins, his girlfriend and the mother of his child.
One cannot help but wonder if CTE has contributed to patterns of erratic behavior, including domestic violence and worse, among other NFL players including Ray Rice, Ezekiel Elliot, and Kareem Hunt… or, dare I suggest, Lawrence Phillips, Ray Lewis, and or even O.J. Simpson? Clearly, their behaviors cannot be solely attributable to CTE, but there is no comparison on such a large scale in other major sports. While NFL players are arrested for domestic violence and criminal conduct at a lower rate than the general population, the rate is significantly higher than would be expected relative to income level and poverty rate and presumably higher than any other team sport. There is already an established link between CTE and one form of violence, suicide. It is not much of a stretch to consider that this link might extends to other forms of violence, too.
Most disturbing, the effects of CTE are seen in young football players who have never been paid a dime to play. Tyler Hilinksi was a Washington State University quarterback when he committed suicide at the age of 21. Autopsies showed he had developed CTE. He is not alone. The Boston University study included individuals who never played professionally. CTE was diagnosed in 86% (57 of 66) of those competed in college but not professionally. Chillingly, among those who only played football in high school, 29% (4 out of 14) were diagnosed with CTE. That is worth restating. Men who never played tackle football past the age of 19 still experienced the crippling impact of CTE!
This is why celebrating the NFL and the Super Bowl is so dangerous. Years after this research has come to light, our society still encourages young people to follow down a tragic path. It will be a long time before we see a true shift. Those with the most stake in the game can help the discussion along. The career decisions of some big-name players are widening the spotlight light on the head trauma. All-Pros Luke Kuechly, Andrew Luck, Rob Gronkowski, Patrick Willis, and Calvin Johnson have all recently quit the game in their primes, citing their future health and specifically concussion concerns. Yet, they had already played long enough to inspire hundreds of thousands of youngsters to follow in their footsteps. It will take more athletes like Chris Borland recognizing the dangers even earlier and speaking out publicly. Borland retired after one accolade-filled season with the 49ers. He determined that the money and the passion for the game was no longer subjecting his brain to ongoing head trauma.
Still, the responsibility goes far beyond the players, who have a right to self-determine how much abuse their own bodies can take in order to earn a living. Fans can quit much more easily. Avoid the game, change the channel, protect your children, speak up about the dangers, and put pressure on those entities who refuse to take action. Why do institutions of learning throw such support behind a game that damages their students’ most precious asset, one that these institutions are meant to cultivate? Renowned universities including Stanford University and the Ivy League colleges — schools whose exorbitant endowments mean they don’t need the revenue from a college football program — continue to support and promote football programs. How much longer can high schools continue to justify football teams? Schools do not carry boxing or Ultimate Fighting Championship teams for a reason. It will also take sponsors pulling out of the NCAA and the NFL, and advertisers dropping their Super Bowl spots.
We have a serious problem when the country’s largest pop culture event every year — for children, families, and adults — is also the marquee showcase for repetitive head trauma. By glorifying the Super Bowl, this society is telling our future generation that it is acceptable, and even celebrated, for a game to result in brain disease, body degeneration, and, quite possibly, an increase in suicide and violence. Personally, I won’t be satisfied until football fall to second or third tier status, or the amateur and professionals leagues discover that flag or touch football can become just as exciting as any other sport.
I grew up thinking I would be a 49ers fan for life. Now, I am making sure that my three sons never become fans.
For more reading on the subject, I suggest:
- Frequently asked questions about CTE, Boston University CTE Center.
- 111 NFL brains. All but one had CTE, by Joe Ward, Josh Williams and Sam Manchester, New York Times, 2017 July 25.
- The Connections between concussions, CTE, and acts of violence, by John McDermott, Mel Magazine, 2017 July 12.
- Youth tackle football will be unthinkable 50 years from now, by Chris Nowinksi, Vox, 2019 Apr 3.
- A college QB’s suicide. A family’s search for answers, by Greg Bishop, Sports Illustrated, 2018 Jun 26.
- Burden of Proof, podcast by Malcolm Gladwell, Revisionist History, 2018 May 24.
