When Andrew Luck recently announced his retirement at age 29, citing the physical and mental toll of coming back from injuries, NFL fans were stunned. Some NFL players, less so. One of them, former Chargers offensive lineman Rich Ohrnberger, 33, explained why during an interview with Times reporter Sam Farmer:
I was dumbfounded when those fans booed Andrew Luck when news broke that he decided to retire. I couldn't believe the reaction. I searched for a reason, and the only thing I could come up with is fans don't have a good enough education on what an NFL player goes through behind the scenes.
What it's really like when injuries pile up and their diminishing passion for the sport forces them to make the hardest decision they've ever made, the decision to walk away from the game.
I know. I've been through it.
I was drafted in the fourth round by New England in 2009. I spent three years with the Patriots, one with the Arizona Cardinals and two more with the San Diego Chargers.
I was a 310-pound guard, and it's the most anonymous position on the field. If you hear your name announced, it's probably because you did something wrong.
Don't confuse this as a call for sympathy. This is simply an education in a very representative NFL career. This is the rule, not the exception.
I never had a real surgery before I got to the NFL. The closest thing was a procedure as a freshman at Penn State to repair a tendon in my pinkie. Lots of soft tissue injuries, ankle sprains and stuff, but never a major injury.
But immediately after my rookie season with the Patriots, I needed shoulder surgery. I had to have part of my clavicle removed on the left side, and a repair on a torn labrum. The clavicle joint was getting inflamed because my shoulder was getting so worn out.
This is how bad it got with my left shoulder: One time I was lying on the couch on my right side, and my left arm was draped across my belly. I reached to grab the TV remote with my left hand, and my arm was quaking because I wasn't strong enough to hold it up. I couldn't handle the weight of the remote. I had to readjust so I could lift it with my right hand.
You get cortisone shots or whatever it takes to get through the season so you can get that surgery you so desperately need. So that's what I did. You have a right arm; you don't necessarily need both of them fully functioning.
That's the funny thing about football. You have moments of exuberant joy when you realize all your efforts are going toward something bigger than yourself. But then you have those moments at home when you can't lift the remote control off your body.
The next year, the same thing happened to my right shoulder, another labrum tear, and I needed my biceps reattached too.
When you're an NFL player, you don't complain about injuries. It's out of respect for each other that you don't really talk about them in the locker room. I'd rather not hear how your knee hurts, because my shoulder is killing me. I don't want to hear how tough that hamstring pull is, because I tore my groin last week. Everybody has something.
You don't ever complain to your coaches about injuries either, because they will think you're weak. And you never, ever want to complain to family and friends, because you're playing a kid's game for a king's ransom.
Pain, to a football player, is like sitting in traffic. It's just part of your workday. It bothers you when you're in it, but you don't mention it unless it's really bad. Just a part of the daily grind.