I am a man comprised of many parts. Certainly among them: sports fan.
Yes, the big three–basketball, football, baseball–but also soccer, hockey, and, of course, horse racing.
I've attended a Summer Olympics, where I witnessed amazing track and field, swimming, and boxing. I also saw two sports for the first (and last) time–judo and team handball.
My father, before the interstate was even finished, would drive my siblings and I to Crosley Field in Cincinnati to watch our beloved Reds. As a youngster he took us to Kentucky football and basketball games in Stoll Field and Memorial Coliseum.
Many of my childhood heroes were athletes.
During the 1970s and early '80s, I attended many Cincinnati Bengals games with my longtime friend Chuck Oliver, who inherited season tickets from his father. In 1985, when Chuck moved from Indianapolis to Atlanta, he graciously passed the season tickets along to me. I've had them ever since.
I've rooted for the Bengals. And, during many seasons, rooted for the Bungles. My four children are Bengals (and Reds) fans. Interestingly, two now live in Cincinnati. Another resides in Ft. Thomas, Ky., about a five-minute drive to the baseball and football stadiums on the banks of the Ohio River.
In the old Riverfront Stadium, my four Bengals seats were 14 rows up from the field. Two seats were on each side of the 50-yard line. Today, in Paycor Stadium (formerly Paul Brown Stadium), I am at the 20-yard-line, two seats in row 21, two directly in front in row 20.
I rarely attend games on Thursday, Sunday or Monday nights for two reasons: 1) it is about a 90-minute drive home; and 2) though I enjoy a beer as much as the next guy, some fans tend to over-imbibe for late-starting contests.
Monday night, however, I was in the stadium because my close friend, Donna, is a longtime Buffalo Bills fan and the thought of being together to watch Joe Burrow versus Josh Allen was too enticing.
My daughter, Jennie, and her friend, Cole, were in attendance with us.
Wearing my Bengals hat and three layers of Bengals shirts, I was excited when “we” won the coin toss and elected to take the ball. We aren't deferring to the second half. We want the ball.
When my favorite player, Tyler Boyd, caught the game's first touchdown, it was game on.
Unfortunately, after Buffalo kicked a field goal and the Bengals began their second drive, the unimaginable happened. Tee Higgins caught a pass on a slant pattern and was tackled by safety Damar Hamlin.
I was looking right at Hamlin when he stood up for just a few seconds, then fell to the ground. I knew this was no torn ACL, no stinger, no concussion.
This was serious.
You really knew so when they asked players to surround the 24-year-old former Pitt player so fans could not see what was happening.
Being a horse racing fan, my thoughts turned to times when track personnel bring out a barrier so fans don't witness a horse being euthanized on the track.
Minutes seemed like hours as emergency personnel worked on Hamlin. We saw them get out the paddles. We could not see them performing CPR, but wondered aloud with other fans if that is what was happening.
We were disturbed that it took the league so long to cancel the game. A friend on Facebook reminded me it takes “corporations” a long time to make decisions.
Indeed, NFL teams and the league itself are corporations.
Thankfully, the right decision was made. After watching players openly crying on the field, how could they possibly compose themselves to carry on?
But what if it had been a playoff game? Or the Super Bowl? Would a different decision have been made? Would they have agreed to play the next day?
What happened to Hamlin is simply not a scenario you expect to happen.
There were many things in play–television ad revenues, playoff implications, players working at their craft for future contracts, etc. But the players, teams, league all realized first and foremost that ahead of the business of the game was concern, care and respect for Damar Hamlin.
Racing fans are often reminded of this relationship of sports and business, such as when colts are rushed off to stud and mares are mated more with the sale ring in mind than the racetrack.
In 1990, I was with my two brothers at the Breeders' Cup at Belmont Park. We had wonderful seats outside at the sixteenth pole. The Distaff was a thrilling duel between champions Bayakoa and Go For Wand, until the latter broke down right in front of us and had to be humanely destroyed.
My younger brother, not a huge racing fan, bid us farewell. He headed to the train station and departed, unable to remain after watching the tragedy unfold.
My older brother and I stayed. We had come to see Unbridled, who did win the Breeders' Cup Classic. Also, I think, being racing fans, we more easily accept that horses, sadly, do sometimes break down.
I wonder now, however, what would have happened had jockey Randy Romero, who was not seriously injured, lay on the track as long as Damar Hamlin lay on the field?
In football, the players are the athletes. In racing, there are two athletes – the human athletes and the equine athletes.
All athletes–and in the case of horses, the owners and trainers–know there is some degree of risk in what they do.
There is, however, a wide range in that degree of risk. Certainly horses and jockeys have a greater degree of risk than someone competing in ping pong.
While football players have a high degree of risk, it did not appear Hamlin's tackle of Higgins was particularly hard. Listed at the time of this writing in critical condition, medical professionals will hopefully shed some light on the cause of his cardiac event.
What I witnessed in Paycor Stadium was horrific. It left me stunned, dazed, bewildered.
It also left me to remember something important. Though I am a sports fan, and root for certain teams and against certain teams, at the end of the day, it's just a game.
The health and welfare of the athletes should always come first.
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