He rises from a chair next to his Heisman Trophy in a room stuffed with dozens of silver and gold keepsakes that recognize a remarkable sports legacy. At 6-foot-3, Jim Plunkett still commands a room.
But underneath the tanned exterior anxiety grows over an uncertain future.
"My life sucks," said Plunkett, 69. "It's no fun being in this body right now. Everything hurts."
The years of daily pain pulsating from the neck, back, knees, shoulders, hips and head have taken a toll on a quarterback who played 15 NFL seasons and led the Raiders to two Super Bowl victories.
His body is a patchwork of medical magic: Artificial knees, an artificial shoulder and a surgically repaired back. After 18 operations, Plunkett's activities have been reduced to golf and light workouts at home on a Crosstrainer.
A quiet figure during his quarterbacking days, Plunkett represents a generation of men who played football with a taste for violence while locking their emotions in safety deposit boxes. For decades, Sunday's heroes have suffered in silence from degenerative brain disease, depression, opioid addiction, Parkinson's and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS).
The price for playing football has come due.
"Think of getting in 50 car wrecks a week for 20 straight weeks a year," said Hank Bauer, a former San Diego Chargers running back known for his reckless play on special teams. "Everybody hurts at our age. We just hurt more."
