Pain never subsides for ex-NFL players

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© St. Petersburg Times,
published October 1, 2001

TAMPA -- It was late one Friday night last year when Richard Wood pulled onto Bruce B. Downs Boulevard. His Wharton High football team had just hammered Leto 28-0, and he was leaving the school parking lot.

He hadn't gone more than a mile when he realized he probably wasn't going to make it home. If he was lucky, he thought, he'd make it to a hospital.

He called his wife, Karen, from the car.

"Baby, it's real bad this time," he told her. "It's real bad."

His back was hurting again, which, next to Karen, has been perhaps the biggest constant in Wood's life since his days as a linebacker for the Bucs. You see, he stopped pounding on pro football ballcarriers more than 15 years ago, but pro football has never stopped pounding on him.

This is the side of football they rarely show us. The after side.

We usually only see what we saw a few weeks ago: Denver running back Terrell Davis had arthroscopic surgery on his right knee two years after having reconstructive surgery on it. And Chargers cornerback Alex Molden had surgery on his right knee. And Chiefs receiver Sylvester Morris had surgery to repair a torn right ACL.

They will be out a few weeks, go through some extensive rehab and return to the field pronouncing themselves as good as new. And they will be. For now, anyway.

Wood, like many former players, knows what is probably waiting down the road, five, maybe seven, years from now, when their careers are over. He knows about the constant pain that is almost sure to come from doing things as simple as sitting and standing.

About the soreness that can make it excruciating to give your child a piggyback ride. About the pain that cuddles up next to you every night in bed. About the additional surgeries that sometimes are necessary.

"Too many guys want to keep playing when their bodies are telling them not to," said former Bucs guard Mike Simmonds, who quit after four years in the league, three on the injured list.

While with the Bucs and Chargers, Simmonds had arthroscopic surgery three times and major knee reconstruction once after he dislocated his patella three times and fractured his fibula.

He could have played a few more years but wanted to get out, he said, while he was still physically able to play with his kids, Amanda, 11, Lauren, 8, and Emily, 4.

Stumble upon a gathering of former NFL players, and this is what you're liable to see: guys such as Simmonds and Wood, proud, hulking men carrying an assortment of aches and pains they would rather we not know about. Pride, you must understand, is a mighty thing.

"Everything that football did for me," said Simmonds, the coach at Jefferson High, "I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Perhaps, but Simmonds, 37, and others might leverage those good times for a few nights of pain-free sleep. Or the ability to sit without feeling the grinding of their joints. Or the chance for a celebratory drive home without feeling like Warren Sapp is tap-dancing on their spine.

Wood, who is 48 and never missed a game because of injury during his career, has numbness in his arms and two aching discs in his back. He takes pain medication daily and has had two vascular operations since retiring.

He often sleeps on the floor to get the proper support. And even then, he must lie a certain way to lessen the aches.

More surgery might await. Doctors say his spine must be fused to correct the damage from the repeated battering that is the essence of football. He has refused so far, afraid the procedure will only lead to more surgery, which isn't how he envisioned spending his post-football days.

"God almighty, it hurts sometimes," he said. "It really does."

The NFL offers assistance for its ailing retired players, but that doesn't always keep them from hurting. Rubbing a $100 bill on your knee will not ease the soreness.

Pain and discomfort are often just part of the deal, part of what you sign on for when you join the NFL.

But here's what they usually don't learn until much later: No matter how many Super Bowls or player of the year awards you win, too often, it's your body that ultimately loses.

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