A Recurring Question

When it came to the sporting life of Chris Snook, it was often a question of “what could have been?” Initially, the inquiry arose as the suburban Cleveland native was enjoying a stellar beginning to his high school baseball career. Despite leading his region in batting average as a freshman, he started to wonder what it would be like to play and succeed in the one sport that enjoys a pseudo-religious status in his home state of Ohio – football.

Citing the hotbed of talent that comes out of Ohio each year for football, the slugger-turned-running back decided to forego the baseball diamond in an effort to gain greater exposure and play on the gridiron.

He never looked back.

As a running back and safety for his high school team, Chris quickly became a highly sought-after college football recruit. In fact, his abilities as a prep football player became so widely regarded that he became ranked nationally as the no. 2 fullback in the nation. After one scholarship came in, a slew of offers followed right behind. By the end of his Junior year, he had made a decision to continue his football career at West Virginia University.

The First “Big One”

While success on the field and in the realm of recruiting came quickly, there was certainly a price in terms of personal health that many aspiring football players like Chris had to pay. Due to the growing evidence supporting the dangers of head trauma in playing football, players of all ages and skill levels are subject to the dangers of concussions. Chris was certainly no exception to this. In fact, minor concussions were such a big part of his football playing career, that he was well versed in dealing with them as a teen-aged high school star.

Then the “First Big One” happened.

As the captain of the Ohio squad for the renowned Big 33 Football Classic, Chris recounts a cringe-worthy sequence in which he met head to head with a Pennsylvania player at the goal line. Following the collision, he became so dazed that he meandered aimlessly around the end zone, circled the goal post, and returned to his team’s huddle for the ensuing play. His memory of the rest of the game and even the events of the day prior to that hit are blank – a fascinating circumstance considering the fact that he continued to play and actually made several key plays for his Ohio squad.

Later on during the game as he stood on the sideline, he nonchalantly stared down at the athletic tape that wrapped around his cleats all the way up to his ankle and motioned to an Ohio staff member, “When did I do this to my shoes?”

After he said that, they quickly took his helmet away and removed him from the game.

Onward, Mountaineer

With the effects of this major concussion lingering, Chris nonetheless began his journey as a Mountaineer football player, hoping for the best in terms of his play and his health. “There was a lot of pressure,” he says, referring to the hopes he felt were on his shoulders. Because of the obsessive love affair his state has with the game of football, Chris felt that he was not only playing for himself but for the community from which he came. Any avoidable hindrances in making those expectations realized were looked to be avoided – that is why he decided to hide the history of his concussions from the medical staff at WVU.

In short, “At the time, I didn’t want to disappoint anybody.”

But, in the spring of his Redshirt Freshman year, the specter of head trauma visited him again as he met head to head with someone on the field. After the hit, Chris said that “he couldn’t see straight for the rest of practice” and he was in a complete daze for the remainder of the week.

“The Last Big One” then came in a game against the University of Connecticut. During a kick return, Chris met straight on with a massive Huskies player. The results affected him so badly that “my eyes wouldn’t be closed but all I could see was black.”

Following that hit, his season was finished and he applied for a medical hardship.

Approaching a Decision

The time Chris spent off the field was difficult. He dealt with the lingering effects of his concussions, balanced the expectations he and his community had placed on him, and fought with the options of continuing to play despite the immediate and lasting injuries that could come from just one more vicious hit.

With his health and playing career in the balance, Chris started to dive into the role of concussions in his sport. He started reading up on the various players who were at once spry, borderline unstoppable forces on the football field become invalids now fighting to maintain their memories and their normal bodily functions. It finally brought him to his athletic training staff and he disclosed the specific extent to which he had suffered head trauma before even getting to WVU.

With the proper information revealed, the training staff and his family guided Chris to a number of doctors that sought to piece together his history of head trauma so his fate as a player could be prudently decided upon. One such doctor was a famous neurosurgeon who was depicted in the recent film Concussion.

The doctor took scans of Chris’ brain and discovered “streaks of grey matter on the side of my brain.”

While sitting in the office of another doctor, the verdict was becoming clearer and the ultimate, inevitable question of whether he should stop playing altogether finally came up. Citing the variance of degree and frequency with each concussion case, the doctor told him and his family, “I can’t tell you that you can’t play.” But now speaking as a father rather than mere physician, he continued “If this were my son, I would tell him it was time to hang it up.”

“People didn’t seem to care…”

And so, he did.

With his football career as he knew it done with, Chris tried to find new meaningful ways to stay with his teammates and help his squad win. He helped out his defensive line coach, relaying plays on the sideline as the coaches sat perched atop the stadium in the press box during games. He helped out at practices and stayed with the guys during team activities.

Though he remained busy with the team, the comments and judgments started to flow in from various people. The injuries stemming from concussions are an elusive thing to understand – especially for people who have not dealt with them. If one tears an ACL or breaks an ankle, people just observe a cast or crutches and seem to be satisfied.

But Chris seemed to look fine.

His teammates told him he had the best job in the world – be everything a football player was and not have to do any of the work. His friends and supporters back home wondered how everything was and why they hadn’t been seeing him as much in the press and on the field.

The judgments became tiresome and frustrating.

In fact, coming to grips with the perception of others proved to be a difficult task that he had to deal with when he was on campus  – and especially back home in Ohio. People who at one time did nothing but patted the back of a football star now seemed to have forgotten about his existence.

“That was a tough pill to swallow. People didn’t seem to care once I stopped playing football.”

Finding Peace – and Health

Stuck in football limbo and coming to grips with the hand dealt to him, Chris began a process transformation. If it was time away from the football field that his head and body needed to recuperate, it was certainly time away from the vicinity of this pressure that was going to enable him to come to grips with his circumstances.

This, Chris experienced in a study abroad trip to Ireland that he would have never had the chance to undertake if he were still playing.

As he returned and continued with his role as student and player-coach, there was a marked change in his outlook on the game and its influence on him.

If at once, “what could have been?” related to some sort of nostalgic longing of athletic glories missed, it now transformed into a question of mere self-preservation. With his body intact and his mind sound, he watches the news stories about the danger of head trauma in football and nods in agreement of his choices, fully content and at peace with who he was – and who he now continues to be.