Colts Fans Are Better Than The ‘Lucas Oil Boos’ Showed
August 28, 2019 at 2:12 a.m.
Colts Fans Are Better Than The ‘Lucas Oil Boos’ Showed
By Roger Grossman-
They will remember their initial reaction to the rumor, then the report, and then the confirmation from Andrew Luck himself that he was leaving the Colts and professional football.
The “dings” of phone notifications from texts and Tweets echoed throughout Lucas Oil Stadium from those who had stayed into the fourth quarter of the Colts preseason game with the Bears. But he was standing there on the sidelines—right there. He was unable to play because his leg or ankle or whatever was hurt, but he was still there and still talking with his quarterback compadres.
Andrew Luck walked up the sideline with his teammates surrounding him, then he disappeared under the canopy to the tunnel that led to the locker room. The sounds of the fans booing the man they once cheered for now echoed louder than the dinging phones.
They were yelling “why are you quitting on us?” They called him names that I cannot say on the radio or write in this article.
Luck and the Colts decided that waiting until a planned Sunday afternoon press conference wasn’t going to work, and so they let Luck address the media already assembled to get postgame reaction.
He poured out his heart about how the four years of spending more time on the trainers’ table than on a practice field had worn him down. He called it the cycle of “injury, pain and treatment,” and he wanted it to stop.
And, in his eyes, there was only one way to make it stop — to get out of football.
He has spent the 48 hours since word leaked out hearing the jeering and the condemnation.
“Coward…chicken…lazy...millennial.”
Again, those are the ones I can print.
I understand that the breaking news of Luck’s decision drew out raw emotions. I get that Colts fans were hoping that, with Luck at the helm, they had a real shot at a deep run through the playoffs and the Super Bowl.
That all seemed to end Saturday night.
But the reality is Andrew Luck is a person, just like you and I are people. His line of work required him to accept physical pain, but there was an expectation that time would heal those temporary wounds. But they weren’t healing, and Luck figured out that they weren’t going to anytime soon.
Anyone who says “he owes us” doesn’t understand. What he has owed Colts fans or fans of the game is 100-percent commitment to the team and his craft. He did that.
He put his own health and safety at significant risk for millions dollars and our entertainment. Isn’t that enough for us? It should be.
What if your job required sitting all day, and it led to excruciating pain in your back?
What if your job, like mine, requires you to talk a lot (like a teacher or radio announcer for example) and it hurt you to talk to your spouse and kids every night?
What if you had chronic knee trouble and your line of work required you to stand, and the knee brace you’ve been wearing for four years isn’t working anymore?
What would you do?
If you recognize any of those scenarios, then you can relate to what Andrew Luck has been going through the last four years.
The physical pain and the emotional strain of doing just about anything for a long period of time can wear out even the most-sturdy of constitutions. It happens to all of us, but never in a public way like it did with Andrew Luck.
“He took his money and ran!”
Yep, he did. And I am glad he still could. Do you think former Bears quarterback Jim McMahon wished he’d quit before he did? His memory is shot and he struggles to do simple, ordinary things most of us take for granted. Andrew’s body talked to him, and he didn’t blow it off.
The man is married, and he about to become a dad. He wants to hold his child without fear of his shoulder hurting. He doesn’t want to worry about whether his leg above his ankle will hurt when he’s chasing them in the back yard.
We all look at him and wish we could be like him.
He looks around, and he just wants to be a normal guy…maybe one like me. One who goes to his kids’ dance recitals and youth football games, and he wants to be the one carrying the orange slices. He has a degree in architecture and he wants to use it. Architecture—you know, where you design buildings and houses, and no one tries to take your head off while you’re doing it.
So before you cast your aspersions on this man as a “quitter” and a “loser”, I suggest that he just may have made the most successful audible of his lifetime.
They will remember their initial reaction to the rumor, then the report, and then the confirmation from Andrew Luck himself that he was leaving the Colts and professional football.
The “dings” of phone notifications from texts and Tweets echoed throughout Lucas Oil Stadium from those who had stayed into the fourth quarter of the Colts preseason game with the Bears. But he was standing there on the sidelines—right there. He was unable to play because his leg or ankle or whatever was hurt, but he was still there and still talking with his quarterback compadres.
Andrew Luck walked up the sideline with his teammates surrounding him, then he disappeared under the canopy to the tunnel that led to the locker room. The sounds of the fans booing the man they once cheered for now echoed louder than the dinging phones.
They were yelling “why are you quitting on us?” They called him names that I cannot say on the radio or write in this article.
Luck and the Colts decided that waiting until a planned Sunday afternoon press conference wasn’t going to work, and so they let Luck address the media already assembled to get postgame reaction.
He poured out his heart about how the four years of spending more time on the trainers’ table than on a practice field had worn him down. He called it the cycle of “injury, pain and treatment,” and he wanted it to stop.
And, in his eyes, there was only one way to make it stop — to get out of football.
He has spent the 48 hours since word leaked out hearing the jeering and the condemnation.
“Coward…chicken…lazy...millennial.”
Again, those are the ones I can print.
I understand that the breaking news of Luck’s decision drew out raw emotions. I get that Colts fans were hoping that, with Luck at the helm, they had a real shot at a deep run through the playoffs and the Super Bowl.
That all seemed to end Saturday night.
But the reality is Andrew Luck is a person, just like you and I are people. His line of work required him to accept physical pain, but there was an expectation that time would heal those temporary wounds. But they weren’t healing, and Luck figured out that they weren’t going to anytime soon.
Anyone who says “he owes us” doesn’t understand. What he has owed Colts fans or fans of the game is 100-percent commitment to the team and his craft. He did that.
He put his own health and safety at significant risk for millions dollars and our entertainment. Isn’t that enough for us? It should be.
What if your job required sitting all day, and it led to excruciating pain in your back?
What if your job, like mine, requires you to talk a lot (like a teacher or radio announcer for example) and it hurt you to talk to your spouse and kids every night?
What if you had chronic knee trouble and your line of work required you to stand, and the knee brace you’ve been wearing for four years isn’t working anymore?
What would you do?
If you recognize any of those scenarios, then you can relate to what Andrew Luck has been going through the last four years.
The physical pain and the emotional strain of doing just about anything for a long period of time can wear out even the most-sturdy of constitutions. It happens to all of us, but never in a public way like it did with Andrew Luck.
“He took his money and ran!”
Yep, he did. And I am glad he still could. Do you think former Bears quarterback Jim McMahon wished he’d quit before he did? His memory is shot and he struggles to do simple, ordinary things most of us take for granted. Andrew’s body talked to him, and he didn’t blow it off.
The man is married, and he about to become a dad. He wants to hold his child without fear of his shoulder hurting. He doesn’t want to worry about whether his leg above his ankle will hurt when he’s chasing them in the back yard.
We all look at him and wish we could be like him.
He looks around, and he just wants to be a normal guy…maybe one like me. One who goes to his kids’ dance recitals and youth football games, and he wants to be the one carrying the orange slices. He has a degree in architecture and he wants to use it. Architecture—you know, where you design buildings and houses, and no one tries to take your head off while you’re doing it.
So before you cast your aspersions on this man as a “quitter” and a “loser”, I suggest that he just may have made the most successful audible of his lifetime.
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