Who Am I Without Sports?

Rediscovering Identity After a Concussion

In August 2018, I ran out on the field for the last football practice of my life as a Jacksonville Jaguar, and I didn’t know it.

After 16 straight years of playing a game I thought I loved, through city championships to state championships, playing in the SEC, two bowl game wins, and finally two NFL training camps, football had been my entire life.

From an early age, I found success in a game that others found highly valuable. They knew the ramifications of success in football, so when you get caught in the wave. It’s hard to get out.

So, after 16 years of hard work making the most of God’s gifts, I was on the brink of success, about to make the team in Jacksonville. I found a new diet that worked, and I felt almost like Superman, ultra-confident, like I finally belonged on the field.

However, I didn’t know how to handle that power, so I abused it. During training camp, I pushed myself past the limit and put myself in a bad situation.

After a massive head-to-head collision in practice, I remember seeing stars and jogging back out to the field, desperate not to lose my chance at making the team. I barely finished the practice and meetings and tried going to bed early that night but stayed wide awake.

The next morning, I begrudgingly told the trainers that I had a concussion and entered the protocol.

After 10 days of sitting in my hotel room with little to no activity, gently following instructions, I passed the protocol and entered practice again in Minnesota. The night before the preseason game, I realized I couldn’t go. I felt sad, depressed, depleted, and exhausted of energy.

They decide to send me home, and a couple of days later, my football career is over.

They always say there’s no specific date when you're told your career is over, and it surely was true here.

But after 16 years of being rewarded for playing football socially, financially, physically, mentally, and spiritually, what should I do when it's taken away? Do you seek the next thrill, chasing the next high? There’s no greater feeling than running out of the A or signing a deal to play with the New England Patriots.

Everything else pales in comparison.

Further, after spending time in a locker room with guys driving high-dollar sports cars, Range Rovers, and Lambo’s, you return to an everyday life filled with hospital visits for work, living in your parent’s house, and working by yourself. No longer are you recognized for your performance. You’re recognized for being the guy who used to play football.

People then wonder why a former NFL athlete works in a hospital room in a less-than-glorious job.

Well, it's safe to say I was too.

After spending years in a locker room, you don’t realize how unrealistic this life is. It’s a fantasy world that provides you with hope and a dream, one that few recognize, that leaves you wondering who you are and what’s next right after.

Once highly regarded, I played with the best of the best. Now, I've been dumped back into society, forced to fend for myself, and my friends and family struggle to hide their disappointment. Someone this close to stardom and capable couldn’t make it.

My entire value system, the reason I thought people liked me, had been from the sport. I didn’t know a life where people valued my honesty, kindness, ability to lead, and humor outside of what I could provide for them on the field.