By Anthony Armstrong
Football is a physical game, and that’s why we love it so much. The intensity, emotion, and the battle that ensues on the field is hard to match in any other arena.
The League has taken many steps to make the game safer on all levels. They have made quarterbacks untouchable unless you’re 6’5 250lbs. Defenders have a not-so-clearly defined target area to tackle a player, and some youth leagues have completely changed the “old way” of bringing someone to the ground. Hell, you can’t even talk about head placement at practice. It’s kind of crazy, but I get it.
That doesn’t mean that big hits have been completely removed from the game, and I can appreciate that. With the speed and precision players in the league have, there are going to be collisions.
In November 2010, we got a visit from the Minnesota Vikings. Hall of Fame QB, Brett Farve was on his revenge tour, so that was kinda cool. Percy Harvin was electric, Adrian Peterson was a machine, and my old friend Greg Camarillo was on the team as well.
Sidebar, the last time I got hit hard was my rookie year in Miami during the preseason. Some linebacker for the Chiefs smacked the shit out of me. Camarillo was there for that, and little did we know he would be present for my second hardest hit.
I’m in the right slot and go on a shallow cross to the left which is supposed to clear out a linebacker for the trailing route, so very rarely would that player get the ball. And for you football nuts, there was no rule for me to “sit down” in the zone since another route was following me.
Donovan McNabb saw me and threw me the ball. It was a little high and I jumped up to catch it with my body and to brace for what was to come.
Y’all, I didn’t even touch the ground before this Mack truck exploded into my chest and drove me into the ground. Think of the Goldberg Spear from WCW days.
My boy, Brandon Banks came to my aid, but I was cool. I got up, spiked the ball and got flagged for delay of game by Ed Hochuli. I figured since I survived that hit, that I earned the right to spike the ball to let the fans know I was all good. I guess Ed saw otherwise.
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