Wreckage In The Fast Lane

Tough goings in the NFL last night, as 23 year old San Francisco lineman Thomas Herrion died after an exhibition game against Denver.

They had just heard the post-game Coach Speech when Herrion collapsed. The team medical staff was on him immediately, and were performing CPR when Thomas was taken to the hospital. He was pronounced dead 3 hours later.

The death of an athlete is always a shocking thing, especially where this kid hadn't just been smashed in the neck or anything. For a sport where the largest/strongest/fastest are taught and exhorted to use their bodies as missiles against other human beings, football players don't get killled a lot.

Before they started armoring themselves (what old guys call "The Leather Helmet Days"), it wasn't that unusual for football players to fracture skulls, snap necks, stop hearts, gouge out eyes, or, in one case, rip out the liver of an opponent and eat it in front of his wife. It's a man's game, and boys will be boys.

Teddy Roosevelt, William McKinley and Woodrow Wilson all spoke out against the violence in football- with Roosevelt, an avid sportsman, threatening to ban the game at one time. Roosevelt's efforts to reform the game eventually led to the development of a ruling board that is still in effect today- the NCAA.

A few less deaths on the field, and a new mega-sport is on. Given a choice between football and, say, space travel....I think most Americans would have been content to let the Soviets walk around on the moon, provided we could still bomb up on them somehow.

Still, big men fell.  J.V. ("Co") Cain and Chuck Hughes died of heart attacks in the 1970s. Arena League guy Al Lucas died after severing his spinal cord on some running back. It's not unusual to hear of a college or high school guy dying after a tough practice. Throw in a few guys with an affinity for ocaine-cay, and you'd get the occasional funeral where you simply needed six behemoths to serve as pallbearers.

Korey Stringer, a 330 pound Minnesota tackle, died of heat stroke a few moons back after practicing in 110 degree heat. His wife sued, and the NFL began to take steps to protect players. No more eight hour triple session marathons. No more running them till they puke themselves into shape. You had to be nice. Things seemed to be improving.

Then, Herrion dies. It wasn't a desert afternoon- it was about 60 degrees out...although you can die of heat stroke in Antartica if your body somehow loses the ability to rid itself of excess heat. We're still waiting on the coroner's report to see if the kid had a heart problem, a nose full of cocaine, a bullet wound- anything that could strike down a powerful young man who could probably have flipped over a Hummer if asked.

Until then, our condolences to his family, and a "B-safe" to everybody else out there on the field entertaining us.

 

Speaking of people who just may be killed entertaining us, former Charlotte/Chicago/Illinois guard Kendall Gill is now 2-0 in his newborn career as a prizefighter.

Picking up a life-threatening sport when you're 37 is usually a bad idea, kids. If Kendall isn't doing this for laughs, he must have a Colombian Infantry Battalion stationed in his nasal cavity.  

He smacked up some tomato can last night, on a card more notable for a melee that involved fighter Fernando Vargas' posse. Set off by someone who punched a trainer's wife in the face, Vargas' posse took on the whole lower section of the stadium in a swirling brawl. Several were arrested, although Vargas himself kept his hands clean.

 "I only hit people who they pay me to hit," said Vargas, who watched the whole fight while sitting on the top turnbuckle like a wrestling valet. "You can get f***** up out there."

(Editor's Note: Entering "Kendall Gill: Boxer" into an image search produces a picture of some guy holding up a sign saying, "Bad Idea.")

 

 

My favorite author- and the deep, cold center of Sportswriter Lake- goes out with a bang.

Dr. Hunter S. Thompson's last wish was granted, and his ashes were loaded into fireworks and detonated over Woody Creek, Colorado.

"Hunter always loved explosions," said his wife, Anita.

Props to Thompson portrayer Johnny Depp, who footed the bill for the soiree.....which included a 15 story tower depicting the late author's logo- a dual thumbed fist extending from a dagger hilt, clutching a peyote button. He also paid for the cannon, which will be left there as a memorial.

RES IPSA LOQUITUR