Recently a fellow named Derek Boogard died at the age of 30, of causes still unknown. It was his wish for his brain to be donated to research evidence of trauma, because as a hockey enforcer for the New York Rangers, he had sustained repeated and frequent blows to the head as a result of his playing hockey. He had been in Minneapolis recovering from his injuries, namely a concussion that had knocked him out of hockey for months [1].

A growing number of players of various sports, particularly boxing, football and hockey, are showing that many players over decades have suffered harmful brain effects of blows to the head, causing emotional changes as a loss of mental function, sometimes leading in premature deaths through trauma or suicide (as a result of mood changes). One thinks of poor Mike Webster, former center for the Pittsburgh Steelers, who died at the age of 50 as as result of his brain problems induced by the brutal life on the gridiron.

We are used to thinking of athletes as tough guys, paying good money (or spending time) to watch them hit repeatedly in the head by punches, slammed into the ice or the wall with tremendous force, or in a scrum locked in combat with fellow 300-plus pound men in warfare up and down the football field. These men put their bodies through great stress and strain, suffer injuries quietly, not complaining, and when their bodies are worn out, they hang up their gloves or sticks or pads, and try to live out the rest of their lives in peace.

We do not notice them then away from the game, unless they appear on the news in some kind of tragic story of an early death, or some kind of fight or arrest, and we may be tempted to point fingers at them, to say that they were thugs on the field or ice or in the ring, and so they will be a thug in real lie though, not knowing that their brain may have changed as a result of the punishment they have suffered, punishment we gloried in because of our own bloodlust.

We do not see our own responsibility in this mess. We think that these people chose their profession openly, and played the game, making millions of dollars in order to sacrifice their life and their health for our entertainment, so we could satisfy our own demands for circus and their own need for bread.

Are we any better than the heathen Romans who shouted for death for gladiators, who relished to see barbarians fight for our enjoyment? Are we better than the savage English of Elizabethan times who glories in bear baiting, or better than those who enjoy bullfighting? After all, we are the fans, whose support allows these sports to continue. We cheer a good fight on the ice, or glory in seeing two adults fight it out in the ring (or octagon as the case may be). We too have paid blood money to see the show. We too have played these games for fun, and we too have had our kids play these sports, endangering them because we thought it enjoyable to play sports, and that we were proud to have athletically inclined children of ferocious competitiveness.

I say this with some seriousness because I come from a family where brain problems of some kind or another are common. Whether we are talking about strokes or tumors, brain aneurysms or seizures or migraines, the brains of many family members (including myself), have suffered from traumas or genetic or environmental problems, or some mix of the three. I therefore have sympathy for others who suffer worse than I. And yet I am at a loss to think of what we can do to really make things better.

By the time someone reaches the professional level of a sport, they will have suffered numerous and repeated blows to the head, whether from sandlot games in the backyard, or amateur levels of playing where enforcement of safety procedures is limited, and where old-fashioned trainers scoff at protecting the young and vulnerable players under their change, talking about how tough they were back in the good old days when men were men and didn’t need to protect themselves with pads or helmets. In short, by the time the children trained in these bloodsports become professionals, most of the damage is already done, before they test their skills against those with as much strength and ferocity as themselves.

How many people who do not make it all the way to the top levels in sports suffer the consequences of their injuries? How many angry and sullen and withdrawn people among us were not born so, but were made so through blows to the head, through the self-medication of injuries through alcohol and drugs to dull the constant pain, that were picked up from the gridiron or ring or rink? Probably many.

Therefore, while brains devoted to research are certainly useful, and while safer helmets and gloves will help matters some, we have to ultimately consider whether it is worth sacrificing lives at all for our entertainment, or if we simply have to say that it’s not worth the lost lives, the damaged families, the wasted years and potential, all because we wanted to see people fight and war and pummel each other while we watched and cheered. For while they die young as a result of their playing, we have to wake up in the mirror, and realize that they died for our amusement to our cheers, and that we helped put them in their early grave.

[1] http://sports.yahoo.com/nhl/news;_ylt=ApOkuZlrQADhLEZv83RG8NF7vLYF?slug=ap-boogaard-brain/