“I meant no harm, I most truly did not. But I had to grow bigger. So bigger I got.”—The Onceler/Dr. Seuss, The Lorax
We like things big in the U.S. We like extremes—and it is likely killing us.
I saw a posting on social media of a greasy donut cheese burger. I couldn’t tell if it was a double or triple burger. It was such a disgusting mess. It was a sugar-laden donut (the kind that looks really good, but after the first bite or two has you saying: “Why did I do this?”, and you finish anyways) with greasy cooked beef, cheese, and bacon. Sadly, it is not the worst of extreme foods I have seen.
Now, I like food. I like to eat. I have done my share of food challenges—especially when my metabolism could handle it. As a high school sophomore, I used to get an over-sized “Mighty Mountaineer” at Chico’s Dairy in Morgantown, WV when I would visit my older sister at WVU. I recall it had 9 or 11 scoops of ice cream. (I know better now than I did then!) Then, there was the challenge at McGuire’s Pub in Pensacola, FL—three massive burgers for a free t-shirt. (My friends and I not only completed the challenge but asked to see the desert menu. We were famous for a day.) My extremes have shifted more to hot sauce challenges in my “wiser” years. Nonetheless, I understand the appeal of the challenges. Unfortunately, normal has shifted toward the extremes.
We seem to be okay with the biggering. We keep biggering and biggering—food, SUVs, and people. Now at 6’5”, I don’t mind bigger vehicles—within limits. Sadly, though, bigger car exteriors don’t seem to translate to bigger car interiors for some reason. (A topic/rant for another day, I suppose?)
When it comes to food, I do often wince at the price of eating out (especially with a near-teen who is biggering everyday). It should perhaps be reassuring when the food arrives that the ample portion sizes are a bit more ‘bang for the buck’. (And of course, I should make it a habit of dividing my food and taking half home in a doggie bag, but I rarely do. Instead, personally, I am trying to make the healthier choices and consider the calories and quality of food I am consuming.) Bang for the buck aside, food portions are just getting too big and too unhealthy. As a result, Americans are getting too big and too unhealthy.
Obesity is a tremendous health issue in this country (and a growing issue abroad, as well). There will be no “fat bashing” here. I understand the plethora of issues underlying the individual battles with weight, and I have compassion for those in the fight. Still, as we contest over who pays for health care in this country, there is the unavoidable discussion of personal responsibility and what society can do to oppose the obesity epidemic.
We have no issues with limiting smoking, because smoking has an obvious impact on those in proximity of the smoker. Obesity, however, is considered an issue of personal choice and the impact is often seen as insensitivity on the part of the person being imposed upon. (And to a degree it is, however….)
Of course, we have the opposite extreme (why are we also going to extremes?) of excessive leanness, as well. So many now perceive “fit” as having “six-pack abs”. (I like to say “I have six-pack abs, but I keep them in a soft cooler”—wink.) Now, both extremes involve distorted body images. One can certainly take “healthy” to an unhealthy level.
One can take biggering too far with regards to muscle, as well as fat. Typically, I would say this is not quite the problem as obesity. It, nonetheless, does come with its share of health issues.
I had a conversation the other day with a friend about body mass index (BMI), which is calculated as the body weight in kilograms divided by the body mass in kilograms squared. It is being used increasingly as a measure of health. A BMI of >29 m·kg2 is considered “obese”. The problem is that this value does not take into account the amount of fat v. muscle. It is true that body size, whether fat or muscle, does present some health issues—e.g., stress on the heart and on the joints. These issues are not the same for the muscular “obese” as the fat “obese”. We could also have a discussion about “fit and fat” (another time). There is, however, one area of body size that I feel warrants some discussion regarding limits. That is…
FOOTBALL.
It is the start of the football season. The NFL preseason is underway. College starts in a matter of weeks, and youth football will be underway when this is published.
If the reader hasn’t noticed, football players are biggering. The average weight of the Minnesota Vikings’ offensive unit in 2016 was 279 lb, the heaviest in the NFC. The Buffalo Bills, in the AFC, were a mere 278 lb. (My Steelers were a puny 266 lb.) These may not seem so big (and the averages were surprisingly less than I expected), but one might want to consider that the biggest player on the Bills line, Mike Williams, tipped the scales at 360 lb. The averages for the offensive lines are of, course, much heavier. The heaviest in the AFC is the Baltimore Ravens at 327 lb (my Steelers’ line averages only 309 lb). The Vikings are again the heaviest in the NFC at 331 lb.
When I was a kid, Doug Cursan, who played tackle for the 1972 Super Bowl Champion Miami Dolphins, worked in the off-season for my dad. To me, he was massive. His arms were so big he had trouble reaching the belt of his overcoat (men wore overcoats back then). He was a first-round draft pick (1968) and a starter for the Dolphins. His playing weight was… 250 lbs!!! In college football, in the 1980’s, D-I lineman were “big” in the 280 lb range. Remember the ‘Fridge, William Perry, for the Super Bowl XX Champion Chicago Bears? He was an anomaly at roughly 350 lb.
Today, there are high school linemen tipping the scales well over 300 lb! Talk about biggering.
Let’s talk concussions. Chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE, is getting a lot of press and raises concerns for sports like American football. Mike Webster, a childhood hero, was at the center of the movie Concussion. The impact of CTE on one of the greatest centers to play the game and numerous other great and near-great players is tragic. Webster, by the way, played at 255 lb. It brings tears to my eyes to think how his life ended.
Concussions are basic physics. The brain “floats” inside the skull. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion until acted upon by an external force (Newton’s First Law). Thus, is the brain in football. Helmets cushion the blow, but only some—and help best with helmet to helmet contact. Force, remember, is mass times acceleration. The bigger the object, the more force. The bigger the player, the bigger the hit.
There are a few things that can help make football safer. Already, teams like the Seattle Seahawks and head coach, Pete Carroll are emphasizing changes in how players tackle. “Hawk drills” are practiced to encourage players to tackle more like rugby players.
Rugby does not require helmets, and it is often considered to be “safer” than American football. A 2011 study at the Auckland University of Technology, however, compared the number of catastrophic incidents (i.e., resulting in paralysis or death) in rugby with other sports between 1975 and 2005*. The study reported 4.6 catastrophic injuries for every 100,000 rugby players annually. The same study reported that American football resulting in 1.0 catastrophic incidents per every 100,000 players during the years studied. That’s more than 75% fewer incidents than in rugby, however, is should be noted that concussions in football often go unreported and catastrophic injuries in rugby are often spinal injuries. It is also of note that CTE has a cumulative effect. Now, going back to the old leather helmets might reduce the head impacts in football (one is less likely to use the head as a weapon, per se), and better tackling techniques (Hawk tackling deemphasizes placement of the head in front of the ball carrier and emphasizes tracking the near the hip, maintaining leverage, hitting the thighs of the ball carrier with the leverage shoulder, wrapping up and driving through the hit. Think rolling into a fall.) can help as well. The biggest (no pun intended) change that might limit CTE—and injuries in general—in football might be to put a cap on playing weights.
In my son’s little league, there are weight restrictions. Players over the weight limit are not permitted to advance the ball. In the NFL, this might not be possible—let alone desirable—but, unquestionably, a cap on maximum playing weight can be beneficial.
I would place a limit of 300 lb on NFL players (perhaps less in collegiate football—and certainly less in high school). One would be hard pressed to find an athlete who, at a naturally lean bodyweight, must be over 300 lb. The result would be better health for the players and less compulsion for “bigger is better”. It may not eradicate CTE (and it is worth noting that the generation who is presently seeing the impacts of CTE are the players who played at smaller weights), but weight limits could have a positive effect on the game—and, certainly, the long-term health of the players. Wrestling caps at 285 lb. It is possible for football to have a weight limit.
Something to consider….
Image: https://seussblog.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/thneeds.jpg?w=640
*http://www.brain-injury-law-center.com/latest-news/head-injuries-rugby-vs-football/