Chachi
Footballguy
In two days, Reggie Williams will drop his crutches and ease into the passenger seat of his Lexus, embarking on a journey as life-affirming as it will be painful. It will begin in Midtown Manhattan and end with his induction into the College Football Hall of Fame in South Bend, Ind.
The former Bengals linebacker will have 707 miles over which to ride shotgun and stare down at his right leg. The limb has been so ravaged by football, surgery and infections that this might be Williams' last road trip with it. He'll have 707 miles to be grateful.
That's the plan, at least.
"I'm going to get there," Williams said of Saturday's ceremony. "What an inspiring event. The timing couldn't be better - to be inspired during a time of adversity."
This isn't the story of just another broken-down NFL player, although his physical struggles are similar. Williams, 53, isn't disillusioned or destitute or grandstanding for the league to change its ways regarding compensation for former players. Of course, Williams never was a typical football player.
The Bengals' media guide from 1989, his 14th and final NFL season, explains part of Williams' persona. One-third of his team bio contained playing information; the rest listed philanthropic endeavors and honors, including the 1986 NFL Man of the Year award and the 1987 Sports Illustrated Co-Sportsman of the Year award.
"He was always such a bigger-than-football kind of guy," said former Bengals teammate Cris Collinsworth. "... He wasn't just going to hang in the locker room and shoot the bull. He was always on to something else - community service or a meeting of some sort. He understood, before most of us did, that there was going to be a life after football."
A devastating ailment
That life after football has been quite a ride, taking Williams from the NFL to the Cincinnati City Council to a vice presidency with Disney and now to the College Football Hall of Fame, with myriad humanitarian endeavors in between.
But health problems care little about titles or money or humanitarian efforts.
Williams, who already had undergone double-knee replacement surgery, developed a bone infection called osteomyelitis in his right knee in early 2006. The condition occurs when bacteria in the bloodstream attack a vulnerable part of the body, and Williams' doctors think the bacteria could have come from silver used in a dental procedure 20 years earlier, though they can't be certain.
Williams dealt with the pain for a year, then moved to New York for treatment, which also proved painful.
At its worst, his leg looked like a boa constrictor that swallowed a boulder - and then exploded. At times Williams could look down through a fleshy crevice and see what little bone he had left in his swollen knee. Blood and infectious #### bubbled to the surface. The pictures are too gruesome to print.
Doctors eventually cleared out the infection, replaced the gaping hole with part of his calf muscle, and sewed him up. By August, they hope to re-implant his prosthetic knee so he can walk again.
That's the best-case scenario. The worst case?
"Losing my leg," Williams said. "That's the whole fight. But the game hasn't even started yet. Everything is to make it heal, to re-
implant the knee. That's when the game starts. That's kickoff."
Still, the clock already has started. Williams, who estimates his medical bills are nearing $500,000, has COBRA medical coverage - enacted after he left Disney to focus on his knee - through November. He has applied for disability with the NFL, but he says the Bengals have denied any responsibility for his injuries.
Bengals owner Mike Brown, in a statement, said a joint committee between the NFL and NFL Players Association made the decision to deny Williams disability, not the Bengals.
"Reggie is one of our Bengals heroes," Brown's statement read. "He was a great player for us for a long time, and I consider him not only a significant part of our history, but also a personal friend."
Williams said he hasn't heard from Brown, a fellow Dartmouth alum, throughout his ordeal.
"Unfortunately, I'm being treated like any other player that ever played for the Bengals," he said. "... Maybe the team can walk away from that, but I can't walk, let alone walk away."
An NFLPA representative did not return a request for comment.
Williams says his feelings toward the Bengals and the NFL are more disappointment than bitterness. He says his fight is more about principle than money, and though he doesn't mind voicing his opinion on the subject, he much rather would talk about his impending hall of fame induction and the possibility of an able-bodied future, sprawled out before him like 707 miles of open road.
With players like Matt Ryan and Jake Long getting $30 Million guarenteed and the NFL and the Bengals not helping this guy who can't even walk with 500K it has to make you sick.
Link to full article.
The former Bengals linebacker will have 707 miles over which to ride shotgun and stare down at his right leg. The limb has been so ravaged by football, surgery and infections that this might be Williams' last road trip with it. He'll have 707 miles to be grateful.
That's the plan, at least.
"I'm going to get there," Williams said of Saturday's ceremony. "What an inspiring event. The timing couldn't be better - to be inspired during a time of adversity."
This isn't the story of just another broken-down NFL player, although his physical struggles are similar. Williams, 53, isn't disillusioned or destitute or grandstanding for the league to change its ways regarding compensation for former players. Of course, Williams never was a typical football player.
The Bengals' media guide from 1989, his 14th and final NFL season, explains part of Williams' persona. One-third of his team bio contained playing information; the rest listed philanthropic endeavors and honors, including the 1986 NFL Man of the Year award and the 1987 Sports Illustrated Co-Sportsman of the Year award.
"He was always such a bigger-than-football kind of guy," said former Bengals teammate Cris Collinsworth. "... He wasn't just going to hang in the locker room and shoot the bull. He was always on to something else - community service or a meeting of some sort. He understood, before most of us did, that there was going to be a life after football."
A devastating ailment
That life after football has been quite a ride, taking Williams from the NFL to the Cincinnati City Council to a vice presidency with Disney and now to the College Football Hall of Fame, with myriad humanitarian endeavors in between.
But health problems care little about titles or money or humanitarian efforts.
Williams, who already had undergone double-knee replacement surgery, developed a bone infection called osteomyelitis in his right knee in early 2006. The condition occurs when bacteria in the bloodstream attack a vulnerable part of the body, and Williams' doctors think the bacteria could have come from silver used in a dental procedure 20 years earlier, though they can't be certain.
Williams dealt with the pain for a year, then moved to New York for treatment, which also proved painful.
At its worst, his leg looked like a boa constrictor that swallowed a boulder - and then exploded. At times Williams could look down through a fleshy crevice and see what little bone he had left in his swollen knee. Blood and infectious #### bubbled to the surface. The pictures are too gruesome to print.
Doctors eventually cleared out the infection, replaced the gaping hole with part of his calf muscle, and sewed him up. By August, they hope to re-implant his prosthetic knee so he can walk again.
That's the best-case scenario. The worst case?
"Losing my leg," Williams said. "That's the whole fight. But the game hasn't even started yet. Everything is to make it heal, to re-
implant the knee. That's when the game starts. That's kickoff."
Still, the clock already has started. Williams, who estimates his medical bills are nearing $500,000, has COBRA medical coverage - enacted after he left Disney to focus on his knee - through November. He has applied for disability with the NFL, but he says the Bengals have denied any responsibility for his injuries.
Bengals owner Mike Brown, in a statement, said a joint committee between the NFL and NFL Players Association made the decision to deny Williams disability, not the Bengals.
"Reggie is one of our Bengals heroes," Brown's statement read. "He was a great player for us for a long time, and I consider him not only a significant part of our history, but also a personal friend."
Williams said he hasn't heard from Brown, a fellow Dartmouth alum, throughout his ordeal.
"Unfortunately, I'm being treated like any other player that ever played for the Bengals," he said. "... Maybe the team can walk away from that, but I can't walk, let alone walk away."
An NFLPA representative did not return a request for comment.
Williams says his feelings toward the Bengals and the NFL are more disappointment than bitterness. He says his fight is more about principle than money, and though he doesn't mind voicing his opinion on the subject, he much rather would talk about his impending hall of fame induction and the possibility of an able-bodied future, sprawled out before him like 707 miles of open road.
With players like Matt Ryan and Jake Long getting $30 Million guarenteed and the NFL and the Bengals not helping this guy who can't even walk with 500K it has to make you sick.
Link to full article.
