Back in the day, I played football. I spent nine years of my life playing, by my count, and at nearly every turn I was smaller, slower, and weaker than almost everyone I lined up against. This shouldn’t surprise anyone, really—Chapel Hill has been basketball country for a long time. I had heart, though, and I cared a lot. I gave everything I could, and as is often the case for kids who are at a physical disadvantage in the violent game of football, I wound up hurt. Often.
I began to collect concussions, one after another, at a rate that eventually led to my being forbidden to play contact sports.