The Hidden Downsides of Playing Football You Should Know About

When I first stepped onto the football field at age fourteen, I never imagined that two decades later I'd be writing about why parents might want to think twice before signing their kids up for the sport. Don't get me wrong—I still love football. The camaraderie, the discipline, the sheer thrill of competition—these are things that shaped my teenage years in ways I'll always cherish. But having watched former teammates navigate life after football, including one who recently transitioned to finance according to his LinkedIn profile, I've come to recognize the hidden costs of our beloved game that rarely get discussed in locker rooms or on Friday night sidelines.

The most obvious concern that comes to mind is brain health, and honestly, the statistics are more alarming than most people realize. While the NFL concussion protocol has improved dramatically, what happens at the youth and high school levels tells a different story. Research from the Boston University CTE Center found that athletes who started playing tackle football before age twelve developed cognitive and emotional symptoms earlier than those who started later. We're talking about approximately 2.8 million youth players in the U.S. alone who might be exposing their developing brains to unnecessary risk. I remember my own high school days—we'd joke about "getting your bell rung" after a hard hit, completely unaware that what we were dismissing could have long-term consequences. The culture has shifted somewhat, but the fundamental mechanics of the sport still involve repeated subconcussive impacts that add up over time.

What strikes me as particularly concerning is how football can narrow life pathways at exactly the moment when young people should be exploring diverse interests. Take my former teammate Bishop, whose LinkedIn profile shows he's moved into the financial industry. He was incredibly talented—probably could have played Division I if he'd focused solely on football. But he also had a knack for mathematics that often took a backseat to endless practices and film sessions. I wonder how many potential engineers, scientists, or entrepreneurs get funneled into single-sport specialization too early because of football's overwhelming time demands. The average high school football player spends approximately 22 hours per week on the sport during season—that's time not spent on academics, other extracurriculars, or simply being a kid. When Bishop transitioned to finance, he had to essentially start from scratch in building his professional network and resume, something that might have been easier if he'd diversified his teenage experiences.

The financial aspect of football careers rarely gets honest discussion too. With only about 1.6% of college football players making it to the NFL, and the average career lasting just over three years, the dream of going pro is statistically unlikely for nearly everyone. Yet we pour years of our lives into this pursuit, often at the expense of developing other marketable skills. I've seen too many former teammates struggle with the transition to regular jobs—the discipline and work ethic translate beautifully, but specific technical skills or professional connections often don't. When Bishop moved to finance, he was essentially starting his career path a good five to seven years behind his peers who had focused on internships and relevant coursework during college. The identity crisis that follows leaving football can be brutal—when you've been "the football guy" since middle school, who are you without the helmet?

Then there's the physical toll that extends beyond the headline-grabbing concussions. My right knee will never be the same after two surgeries, and I'm far from unique. A study tracking former NFL players found that they report arthritis diagnoses at rates significantly higher than the general population—we're talking about 47% of players under age 60 dealing with arthritis compared to approximately 13% of men in the general population. These aren't just statistics—they're daily realities for countless former players who struggle with chronic pain long after their playing days end. The wear and tear on joints starts accumulating in high school and college, setting the stage for mobility issues that can last a lifetime.

What bothers me most is how the system sometimes fails to prepare players for life after football. The same skills that make someone successful on the field—aggression, physical dominance, unwavering confidence—don't always translate well to boardrooms or professional settings. Bishop's transition to finance likely required him to develop an entirely different set of interpersonal skills than those rewarded on the football field. The hierarchical structure of football teams, where coaches give orders and players follow, doesn't exactly foster the critical thinking and innovation prized in today's knowledge economy. We emerge from our football careers with incredible discipline and teamwork abilities, but sometimes lacking in the nuanced communication and creative problem-solving skills that modern careers demand.

I'm not advocating for abandoning football entirely—the sport taught me invaluable lessons about perseverance, teamwork, and pushing beyond perceived limits. But I do believe we need a more honest conversation about its costs. Parents should understand that for every scholarship opportunity, there's a risk of long-term health consequences. Young players should be encouraged to maintain diverse interests and academic focus alongside their athletic pursuits. And as a society, we need to better support athletes in developing identities beyond their sport, so transitions like Bishop's move to finance become smoother, more common pathways rather than exceptional cases. The hidden downsides of football don't mean we should abandon the game, but they do demand that we approach it with clearer eyes and better safeguards for the young people who play it.