In a league obsessed with player safety, the Giants reached the right decision, the only decision, about one of their own’s career and life.
David Wilson doesn’t have to worry about hearing Tom Coughlin bark about holding the football high and tight anymore, doesn’t have to worry about fumbling it.
The Giants have taken the football away from him forever, for his own well-being. Told him he was a Giant no more.
And David Wilson, 23 years young, met with the Giants doctors Monday morning, met with the heartsick keepers of the franchise, and seemed to them at peace while promising to surrender his NFL dream, and admit that it is over now for him, that it is better to be safe than sorry.
“Growing up, ever since I was 8 years old, I wanted to play in the NFL,” Wilson said in a statement released by the Giants. “It was my dream. And I can’t say that I didn’t live my dream, because I did. I played for the New York Giants. I was a first round draft choice of the New York Giants. I scored touchdowns. I caught touchdowns. I returned kicks for touchdowns and I set records. So I got to do some of the things I dreamed of doing all my life.”
The benefit of hindsight tells us the Giants, who will err on the side of caution rather than rush a player back and place him in harm’s way, who pride themselves on their medical vigilance, were lucky Wilson suffered a mere burner last Tuesday when the worst-case scenario is unthinkable.
Lucky they weren’t left with blood on their hands.
No one, of course, is luckier than Wilson.
He should keep that infectious smile on his face and that song in his heart, even if he never gets to play two-hand touch again.
He gets to live a normal life.
When the Giants cleared Wilson before training camp, they thought they were certain his spinal fusion surgery in January would not place him in jeopardy. Unfortunately, they thought wrong.
The problem is, there are never any guarantees for a pocket rocket running back like Wilson in a violent collision sport. Peyton Manning, who endured four spinal fusions, didn’t try to rush back the way Wilson did, and doesn’t have to run headfirst into predator linebackers. And, oh by the way, the average life span of an NFL running back is maybe three years.
A sad day for Wilson, a sad day for the Giants. They loved him enough to draft him at the bottom of the first round of the 2012 draft, swore they had him rated higher than Doug Martin, chosen right in front of them by the Buccaneers. He was lightning, was destined to become one of the league’s most exciting players. He was a home run waiting to happen, especially on kickoffs, where he led the league in return yardage as a bright-eyed rookie. Then he suffered that herniated disc last October. It was the beginning of the end for him.
Thankfully, it won’t end for him the way it ended for a Patriots receiver named Darryl Stingley, crushed over the middle 36 years ago by Raiders safety Jack Tatum and rendered a quadriplegic.
A sad day for Wilson and the Giants, but not a tragic day.
And even on the day when he was placed on injured reserve and told he would never again wear that precious blue No. 22 jersey, the very character and mettle the club that convinced the club to draft him was unmistakable to everyone. He wanted no one’s pity. He confronted the end with honor, his familiar effervescent smile lighting up a dark, somber room inside the Quest Diagnostics Center.
“There’s a lot to be said about his inner strength right now, and certainly what he learned as a youngster from his parents comes shining through,” Coughlin said on a conference call.
Life will go on for the Giants with Rashad Jennings and rookie Andre Williams.
Most importantly, life as he has always known it will go on for David Wilson. Once he comes to terms with that, if he hasn’t already, he should celebrate with a couple of his patented backflips, just for old time’s sake.