Spectre of concussions haunts NFL's Super Bowl week

The dust-up over deer-antler spray didn't last long, which is probably just as well. No reason to ruin Ray Lewis' retirement, or the week-long spectacle of everything that is the National Football League in this party town.

Perhaps the biggest audience ever to see a Super Bowl will gather in front of televisions for parties of their own. The game has become America's unofficial national holiday. Americans celebrate it even as it takes a brutal toll on those who play it. Football is a hurt business, and the biggest cheers are for those who deliver the biggest hits.

So remember that former players, some of whom entertained us in Super Bowls past, are suffering in the worst possible ways because of the beating their brains took on the playing field.

That the NFL is finally waking up to the crisis is commendable. That it took this long is deplorable. It is hard to comprehend, and it may be the ultimate paradox. Football itself could be the one thing that kills the NFL.

Baltimore safety Bernard Pollard suggested the other day that it just might, calling the on-field violence "a car accident every play" and expressing fear that one day a player might die on the field. This, from a player who is considered one of the hardest hitters out there.

President Barack Obama says if he had a son he would "have to think long and hard" about letting him play the game. And if commissioner Roger Goodell didn't get it before, he seems to now. In recent months, he floated the idea of eliminating kick-offs to cut down on concussions, and used much of his state-of-the-NFL appearance to talk about improving player safety.

It's too late for former players, some of whom suffer from debilitating brain damage caused by hits to the head. About 3,500 of them are suing the NFL for not doing enough to protect them, including the family of star linebacker Junior Seau, who shot himself last May. Medical researchers who studied his brain said findings were similar to autopsies of people "with exposure to repetitive head injuries".

While the league celebrates its new Hall of Fame inductees and fetes former stars who can still walk and talk, it fights in court on fears the claims of injured players can hit owners where it hurts most - their wallets.

If anything, the game has become more brutal since the first Super Bowl 46 years ago. The players are bigger and faster, and better equipment gives them the false confidence to go head to head.

No sport worth playing should need neurologists on the sidelines to protect participants. But that is what the NFL will have next year.

Count former Patriots safety Rodney Harrison among those who worry. He was fined repeatedly in his long career for helmet-to-helmet hits, and estimates he suffered 20 concussions on the field.

Today he works as a television analyst and seems healthy, but said on the Costas Tonight Super Bowl special that he suffered headaches from bright lights and playing golf and had some anxiety issues he believed were caused by concussions. "I'm scared to death," he said.

The issue was big last week as members of the 49ers and Ravens were asked repeatedly about the safety of the game they play to make their living. Most dismissed fears, saying they knew what they were in for when they signed up to play football. But, at the same time, the players' union released a survey showing eight out of 10 players did not trust team doctors.

Understandable, when those doctors serve at the pleasure of their employers. Even more understandable if you play in San Diego, where the team doctor lost a malpractice lawsuit last summer and California wants to revoke his licence.

These are all serious issues. The game will never be totally safe, but it can be safer.

Let's hope that Goodell is as serious as he claims in finding a way to keep players safer than they are today.

Associated Press