USA TODAY International Edition
Welker’s return risky; Luck sidelined,
Someone needs to save Wes Welker from himself.
The wide receiver with a lengthy and well- documented history of concussions either doesn’t care or is oblivious to the fact he might very well be killing himself by signing a one- year contract with the St. Louis Rams. That might sound alarmist, but it’s not.
We know Welker has had multiple concussions, including three in a nine- month span between 2013 and 2014. We know there is a link between repeated head trauma — you know, the kind that can occur when massive human beings are running into each other at full speed, often using their helmeted heads as battering rams — and chronic traumatic encephalopathy.
We know CTE can lead to depression, dementia and, in the very worst cases, suicide. We know that researchers found evidence of CTE in the brains of 87 of 91 NFL players, a staggering 96% “success” rate.
Those figures alone ought to be enough to scare the hell out of Welker and anyone who cares about him. Then there is the bogeyman of what we don’t know. Scientists still can’t say how many concussions are too many. Or which hit will be the one that will trigger the downward spiral that led Junior Seau and Dave Duerson to put bullets in their bodies.
Or, with a history of concussions severe enough that he has missed games because of them, whether Welker has already damaged his brain so severely he’ll wind up as another of the NFL’s saddest and scariest statistics.
“He’s in outstanding shape,” St. Louis coach Jeff Fisher said Monday after the Rams signed Welker.
And Fisher knows this how, exactly? Because the only way to know for sure if an NFL player has CTE — to see whether his brain has been traumatized so badly that he will eventually become unrecognizable to those who know him best — is an autopsy.
Of course Welker wants to play. This is the game he has played since he was a kid and loved for just as long. His talents on the football field have made him a rich man, with career earnings of a little over $ 40 million, according to NFL Players Association records.
And, as any former player will tell you, there’s a camaraderie in the locker room and on game days that can’t be duplicated anywhere else.
Which is why someone else needs to step in. As Fisher’s simple- minded reaction shows, it won’t be anyone in the NFL. Much like with its approach to domestic violence, the league and its owners will talk earnestly about how much they care about their players’ health and safety — but only as long as it’s convenient and in the best interest of their record to do so.
No, it’s up to the people who actually care about Welker to open his eyes to the dangerous game he’s playing. His agent. His family. His friends. His former teammates.
Someone has to convince Welker that by playing again, he’s playing with his life.