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Concussions create living hell for former NFL players
By Matt Crossman -
What good is glory if you can''t remember it? While with the Bears, Larry Morris played under legendary coach George Halas and alongside Dick Butkus and Mike Ditka. In the 1963 Bears-Giants NFL championship game, Morris, a linebacker, intercepted a Y.A. Tittle pass and returned it 61 yards before being taken down at the 6. Chicago scored a momentum-changing touchdown moments later and went on to win, 14-10. Morris twice leveled Tittle that day, knocking him briefly from the game and otherwise diminishing his effectiveness. Morris was named the game's MVP.
He remembers none of it.
He can''t sign his name, can''t complete basic hygiene tasks and sometimes struggles to dress himself.
About 15 years ago, Morris, now 73, started showing signs of dementia -- and today it is full-blown. The cruel disease appears to be the price he is paying for having suffered multiple concussions playing football. His neuropsychiatrist has linked his disease to his playing career. His family says he played through at least four concussions in the NFL, and his college teammates say he had numerous concussions while playing at Georgia Tech. He wasn''t called the Brahma Bull because he shied from contact.
George Morris (no relation) played linebacker with Larry at Georgia Tech. Both are in the College Football Hall of Fame, and they remained friends postfootball in the Atlanta business community. Last fall, the two walked on the field together at a Georgia Tech game in which former All-Americans were honored. Larry remains a strapping man, and his demeanor and appearance seemed normal. But George knows better. Though the two walked side by side on the very field on which they had played side by side, George knows if Larry recognized him at all, it was for a fleeting second. Even that is doubtful.
George's heart broke that day.
"You''re writing about a man who is one hell of a man," George says. "He's honest to a fault. Some people say he was too good to too many people. One guy told me, ''If he wants to be a good, good guy, he needs a devil on his shoulder. Why don''t you be the devil?'' "
Larry Morris never could be the devil. Now, he's in a living hell.
Poof.
All that glory, gone.
Hip replacements, knee replacements, gnarled hands. All have long been a part of life for retired NFL players. If the cost of a few years of glory is a lifetime of pain, most would do it again. But a troubling trend has emerged: the scary long-term effects of concussions. Former players are suffering from dementia, early onset Alzheimer's disease and depression. The price of glory is much higher and more profound than fans of the game have ever realized -- or the NFL is willing to admit.
Nobody knows the extent of the problem. A new benefits program for players with dementia drew more than 100 applicants in its first three months -- though it's impossible to say how many of those cases are related to concussions. That number no doubt will rise as the plan gets more publicity. On top of that, many players are unwilling to admit their struggles -- a lifetime of pride is getting in the way of asking for help.
The future could be worse. As today's players are bigger, faster and stronger than yesterday's, many experts expect their injuries to be that much more severe.
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