Page 15 - Touchline edition 24

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For sports people, often too much of their
self-esteem is tied to what is happening
on the field.Clubs and coaches now
closely monitor serious injury, as the
issue of depression has become serious
enough to affect a number of stars. And
as modern sport becomes faster, it also
becomes much harder.
Rugby Union is a case in point. Former
Wallabies test star John Daniell in an article
for the Guardian writes that “Rugby players
– like most athletes – get used to pain early
on, playing with it and through it almost
constantly. But there is a danger that your
mind is writing cheques your body can’t keep
cashing”.
This constant pain, combined with the pressure
to keep playing, means that players end up
swallowing a bunch of pills.
FIFA reported that 39% of players were on some form
of pain killer during the 2012 World Cup. The number
could well be higher, and is certainly much greater in the big
contact sports like rugby and American football.
These players usually suffer long-term damage of some kind,
and the short-term risks are huge. But such is the pressure
that players exert on themselves that they will continue testing
that hamstring, or risking their fracture, or going out bruised
and bandaged, so that they further endear themselves to the
crowds.
So, do we glorify them or sanction them? The simple answer is
that it depends on who you are.
Sports authorities are responsible for the welfare of the
players. Given the uniquely driven impulses of sports men and
women, only the organisers of competitions can be trusted to
legislate against injury.
Fans are fundamentally tribal, and most studies point to the
fact that supporting a team has nothing to do with common
sense or rationality. If a player is willing to play on with a blood-
splattered shirt or a bandaged shoulder, then they will be
rewarded. Very few fans pressure a player to leave the arena
when patently injured. Stay in the field, stay in the heart.
There are plenty of examples of how fighting injury has made
a player into a legend.
In 2008, Tiger Woods was at the zenith of his career. His
sporting greatness was confirmed through his awesome
record, but then he further endeared himself to his fans when
he played through pain to win the US Open that year.
Not expected to last the pace, he entered nonetheless and
managed to haul the leaders in by shooting a 30 on the front
nine of the second round. Seeing softness in the players
ahead of him, he managed a 73 on the final day, setting up a
draw and a play-off against Rocco Mediate.
Barely able to walk, he fought through the pain and won the
tournament by a stroke.
Woods ‘ determination would go on to be unblemished until
2009, when caught out playing fast and loose with his marital
vows.
Modern football is cursed by images of players like Real
Madrid’s Pepe acting out pretend injuries, but has its share
of footballing heroics. The most famous picture is that of a
bandaged and blood-soaked Terry Butcher.
The rugged defender stayed on the field after receiving a
head wound and helped England to an important World Cup
qualifying draw against Sweden. His never-say-substitute-me
attitude became a defining image for the much-loved national
team that would battle its way to the semi-finals a year later.
But a cut to the head is nothing compared with the injury Bert
Trautmann suffered in the 1956 FA Cup Final. The Manchester
City goalkeeper sustained a broken neck 15 minutes before
the final whistle with his team 3-1 up.
He made two important saves to protect the lead and entered
the hall of legends that day.
Of course, a full on contact sport like American Football is
going to give you plenty of opportunities to see cracked bones
and blood. For example, Jack Youngblood of the LA Rams was
a fantastic player, but his true fame comes from the fact that
he played not one but THREE play-off matches with a fractured
fibula.
But the most graphic, in more ways than one, illustration of
dedication is the story of Ronnie Lott’s finger. In the final week
of the regular 1985 season, the San Francisco player got his
finger caught in the helmet grill of an opponent. His pinkie was
duly mangled. He played in the next match, but on learning
that he needed a complicated operation to save the digit,
he made a choice. Rather than missing any of the following
season, he had the end of his finger amputated.
These stories serve to illustrate a point that is both saddening
and uplifting: we need these players to be more than just
people. But they need this feeling more than even the fans.
Touchline issue 24 | September 2016 | 15