I wasn’t watching the Monday Night Football game in which Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin went into cardiac arrest after making a tackle on Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver Tee Higgins. But I watch plenty of football. So when I read on Twitter about medical personnel performing CPR on Hamlin before rushing him by ambulance to the hospital, I felt complicit in something terrible.
When I read about medical personnel performing CPR on Hamlin before rushing him to the hospital, I felt complicit in something terrible.
I felt similarly complicit when Miami Dolphins quarterback Tua Tagovailoa was lying motionless on the ground in September. Likewise, after Los Angeles Chargers safety Derwin James was ejected for a nasty helmet-to-helmet hit on Indianapolis Colts receiver Ashton Dulin last week. No ejections or even penalties were assessed last month when New York Jets wide receivers Denzel Mims and Corey Davis were concussed after being accidentally kicked in separate incidents. I feel complicit, too, whenever I view any combination of the Pittsburgh Steelers, Baltimore Ravens and Bengals playing. Those AFC North contests always seem to excel in brutality.
Along with tens of millions of others in America, I lustfully consume a shiny, colorful and savage spectacle. We cheer a game that features enormous, elite athletes hurtling into one another at high speed. Football involves 22 men of freakish physical stature simultaneously engaged in modestly regulated violence. This may be why fights on the gridiron are rare compared to those on baseball diamonds: Football players can do so much damage to one another within the rules of the game that there’s little need for extracurriculars.
Our participation in this spectacle raises an uncomfortable moral question: At what point are we who are obsessed with football enabling the destruction of young men’s bodies and by association their lives?
I am not so naive or narcissistic to think that my question is original or likely to stimulate change. To be clear: If the goal is to prevent the type of traumatic injury that befell Hamlin and Tagovailoa and thousands prior to them, then football in the United States is unreformable. No op-ed or rules committee or requirement of Guardian Caps is going to prevent what happened last night from happening again.
Football has been discussing and (begrudgingly) implementing reform for over a century. In 1905, President Theodore Roosevelt threatened to outlaw the sport after 19 collegiate players died in one season! As a result, the flying wedge was made illegal. In 2009, all wedge formations (which involve athletes linking hands or arms and surging forward to block as if they were a moving wall) on kickoffs were prohibited. Thankfully, this eliminated the position of the “wedge buster.” This would be the unfortunate special teams player thanklessly tasked with running full speed into a multiperson battering ram charging at him from the opposite direction.
Every year, there are more reforms. Kickoffs, those high-speed human train crashes waiting to happen, have been reduced to a minimum. Penalties for “targeting” are on the rise. Crackback blocks, in which players blindside an onrushing and usually unsuspecting opponent, are now illegal. Trained spotters, scanning for concussions from the stands, have been hired. Independent neurologists prowl the sidelines.









