Repetitive Concussions Turned Me Into A Man, Not A "Victim"

While the "Spooky SZN" soy boys of our nation sit criss-cross-applesauce in their safe spaces/cuck dungeons and cyber pout about how they're afraid of things like "climate change" destroying the earth and "mass shooters" destroying their loved ones, there's only one thing that's truly scary to me right now: the haunting fact that participation numbers are rapidly declining in youth and high school football across the country.

One of the saddest and most embarrassing things I've ever witnessed was last Friday when I returned home to my alma mater, The Wheeling Park High School, for a regular season game and realized that the football team had less than half the players it did when I was on the varsity squad a decade ago. I remember turning to one of the popular senior girls in the student section and asking, "Where's the rest of the team?" assuming they were still in the locker room doing pregame battle cries or hazing the freshmen.

"What do you mean? That's all of them," she naively replied while undressing my sweats with her hazel eyes, as if only eight players on the sidelines was completely normal for a Triple A school. My stomach turned to knots, and that's when it hit me —today's generation of kids is fucked.

In ten years, we probably won't even be seeing college fans pack into legendary pigskin palaces like Beaver Stadium anymore because they're too afraid of getting "secondhand concussions" or some other snowflake shit like that. Lmao.

But how did this disgusting and dangerous epidemic happen in the first place? Well, if you look at the very first sentence fragment of that dorky Forbes article, it says, "You can blame it on concussions." Hmmm? I don't have the attention span to read more than a few sentences in a row without getting dizzy and developing a migraine, but I'm assuming one of the main reasons that parents aren't letting their kids play football is because they're afraid of the "health risks" that can come from concussions. Let that sink in. A measly little concussion —a knock on the noggin —is now considered a "fear" as if it were just as dangerous as an ACL tear or potentially life-altering brain injury.

When I was growing up — in the good, old days before smart phones, social media, and significant advancements in medical research —getting a concussion was just as much of a mundane routine as getting a haircut or brushing your teeth every month or two. In fact, in my neighborhood, you weren't even considered a man until you had at least ten concussions under your belt. Don't believe me?

This is me before my first concussion:

As you can see from those photos, which appear to have been taken with a Tamagotchi Pet, I was a pathetically small, sickly-looking dweeb wasting my time winning academic competitions because I had no idea what it was like to feel the masculine, drug-like rush of playing tackle football on the local tennis courts, getting my brain rocked into oblivion, and losing control of my basic motor functions.

And this is me ten concussions later: larger, stronger, darker, manlier, and more disoriented than pretty much all of my peers:

Now, as I sit here and peck away at the Keys on my mack book, I just hope I can knock some cents into the parents who are more worried about their Precious child getting severely concussed than showing some toughness on the gridiron. I could ramble on about how CTE  is just a myth four ours but  irregardless of howmuch words I, write there's nothing I can do  to reverse the permanent damage thats' already been done to tOday's generation of soft kids.