The Big Break
How economic disparity keeps NFL rosters full
By Tamryn Spruill
The NFL will never die. But the faces of those who suit up on Sundays could change. Economic and employment inequality in the U.S. could leave many without a choice but to play the violent sport of football.
“Football is an elective. It’s a game. It’s make-believe. And to think that people have brain damage from some made-up game. The meaninglessness of it, you draw the line at brain damage,” said former 49er Chris Borland, in a recent interview with ESPN the Magazine, in defense of his decision to retire from the NFL following his rookie season. He cited the short- and long-term damage to bodies and a sheer degradation of football players to “dehumani[zed]” pieces of meat.
Yet, men will strap on their helmets for Sunday matchups, to the delight of fans, while other men will claw their way through the ranks of collegiate teams and combines for the undrafted in hopes of securing a roster spot one day. Chris Borland, who happens to be white, coaches high school players to view football as a means to an end and not an end in and of itself.
Many athletes and their families, however, view it as the ultimate end: a way to achieve financial solvency. For many players, not only is retiring not an option, but ceasing to chase their helmet-and-turf dreams – from Pop Warner to pros – is not one either. For some, a roster spot on an NFL team is much more than an “elective” or “make-believe.” It is a ticket out of poverty, or simply a way to earn a living during a time in which employment opportunities are scarce for young people, especially for young people of color.
In stating that the consequences to players are not worth the risk of playing the game, Borland has a point. Anyone can look to the concussion-related suicide deaths of former NFL players Junior Seau, Ray Easterling, Dave Duerson, and others as evidence in the It’s Not Worth It campaign. But, throughout the piece, Borland’s ambivalence to call for a complete ban on football bumps up against his ideas that football cannot be made safe through innovation, underscoring the confusion many people feel for America’s favorite sport.
In an economic climate in which Master’s-educated individuals and doctoral candidates toil in low-wage jobs, and those with a high school diploma or GED stand no chance, how could any citizen hope to earn a six- or seven-figure salary per year without dipping into illegality? For young African Americans, the odds of climbing out of poverty or the hardship of living paycheck-to-paycheck are slim to none in an economic system designed for them to fail.
Meanwhile, the NFL is a billion-dollar industry in which players are complicit in the league’s survival because of one common goal: everyone wants to get paid. From the suits at the top, advertisers, and networks, to the coaches and players, many factions hold a stake in the NFL’s continuation at the highest level. Thus, the need for players always will exist. But, if “the most dangerous man in football” winds up being the de facto leader of an exodus of NFL players fleeing into early retirement – “before it’s too late” – we have a moral imperative to examine who will be left in their wake to play the game.
A 2012 article in The Atlantic reported that more than half of the U.S. population with Bachelor’s degrees under the age of 25 is unemployed. According to a 2013 article published in The Economist, recent college graduates worldwide are living during an “epidemic of joblessness” in which 300 million people in the 15- to-25 age bracket are unemployed. Meanwhile, a July 2015 Bureau of Labor Statistics report puts unemployment of African Americans between the ages of 16 and 19 at 28.7% (versus 14.1% for whites in the same age range).
With almost one-third of African American young people out of work – and those who are working often ending up in low-paying jobs – for many, securing a roster spot on an NFL team becomes a more realistic goal for earning a living. Getting a decent paying traditional job, therefore, becomes the new “long shot,” while making it to an NFL team’s practice field seems like more of a sure thing. Surely, the people in this demographic who are not athletically inclined lament their fate as they pinch pennies to make ends meet.
This is not to say that athletes do not love the game. Many do. But the increase in early retirements from the sport suggests something else at play. Given the ability to earn a decent living some other way – one that does not involve running into linebackers – many players probably would take it. Instead, they take their punishment and accept the pain – risking current health and long-term cognitive impairment – in exchange for a decent payday that, with any hope, will last into the future. If managed properly, a sports contract amounts to a new-form lottery, but with bumps, bruises, concussions, breaks, and tears.
By Tamryn Spruill
The NFL will never die. But the faces of those who suit up on Sundays could change. Economic and employment inequality in the U.S. could leave many without a choice but to play the violent sport of football.
“Football is an elective. It’s a game. It’s make-believe. And to think that people have brain damage from some made-up game. The meaninglessness of it, you draw the line at brain damage,” said former 49er Chris Borland, in a recent interview with ESPN the Magazine, in defense of his decision to retire from the NFL following his rookie season. He cited the short- and long-term damage to bodies and a sheer degradation of football players to “dehumani[zed]” pieces of meat.
Yet, men will strap on their helmets for Sunday matchups, to the delight of fans, while other men will claw their way through the ranks of collegiate teams and combines for the undrafted in hopes of securing a roster spot one day. Chris Borland, who happens to be white, coaches high school players to view football as a means to an end and not an end in and of itself.
Many athletes and their families, however, view it as the ultimate end: a way to achieve financial solvency. For many players, not only is retiring not an option, but ceasing to chase their helmet-and-turf dreams – from Pop Warner to pros – is not one either. For some, a roster spot on an NFL team is much more than an “elective” or “make-believe.” It is a ticket out of poverty, or simply a way to earn a living during a time in which employment opportunities are scarce for young people, especially for young people of color.
In stating that the consequences to players are not worth the risk of playing the game, Borland has a point. Anyone can look to the concussion-related suicide deaths of former NFL players Junior Seau, Ray Easterling, Dave Duerson, and others as evidence in the It’s Not Worth It campaign. But, throughout the piece, Borland’s ambivalence to call for a complete ban on football bumps up against his ideas that football cannot be made safe through innovation, underscoring the confusion many people feel for America’s favorite sport.
In an economic climate in which Master’s-educated individuals and doctoral candidates toil in low-wage jobs, and those with a high school diploma or GED stand no chance, how could any citizen hope to earn a six- or seven-figure salary per year without dipping into illegality? For young African Americans, the odds of climbing out of poverty or the hardship of living paycheck-to-paycheck are slim to none in an economic system designed for them to fail.
Meanwhile, the NFL is a billion-dollar industry in which players are complicit in the league’s survival because of one common goal: everyone wants to get paid. From the suits at the top, advertisers, and networks, to the coaches and players, many factions hold a stake in the NFL’s continuation at the highest level. Thus, the need for players always will exist. But, if “the most dangerous man in football” winds up being the de facto leader of an exodus of NFL players fleeing into early retirement – “before it’s too late” – we have a moral imperative to examine who will be left in their wake to play the game.
A 2012 article in The Atlantic reported that more than half of the U.S. population with Bachelor’s degrees under the age of 25 is unemployed. According to a 2013 article published in The Economist, recent college graduates worldwide are living during an “epidemic of joblessness” in which 300 million people in the 15- to-25 age bracket are unemployed. Meanwhile, a July 2015 Bureau of Labor Statistics report puts unemployment of African Americans between the ages of 16 and 19 at 28.7% (versus 14.1% for whites in the same age range).
With almost one-third of African American young people out of work – and those who are working often ending up in low-paying jobs – for many, securing a roster spot on an NFL team becomes a more realistic goal for earning a living. Getting a decent paying traditional job, therefore, becomes the new “long shot,” while making it to an NFL team’s practice field seems like more of a sure thing. Surely, the people in this demographic who are not athletically inclined lament their fate as they pinch pennies to make ends meet.
This is not to say that athletes do not love the game. Many do. But the increase in early retirements from the sport suggests something else at play. Given the ability to earn a decent living some other way – one that does not involve running into linebackers – many players probably would take it. Instead, they take their punishment and accept the pain – risking current health and long-term cognitive impairment – in exchange for a decent payday that, with any hope, will last into the future. If managed properly, a sports contract amounts to a new-form lottery, but with bumps, bruises, concussions, breaks, and tears.
***
“After the game, I finally took everything off, and there was just blood dripping down,” said [Taylor, Borland’s teammate at Wisconsin], in the ESPN the Magazine article, of his return to the field for a big game one week after knee surgery. “The hair was matted down because of all the compression on it, the tape, the glue, and there was still blood coming down. I remember the coaches coming by, going, ‘Great game! Can’t believe what you just did!’”