The Hidden Downsides of Playing Football You Need to Know

2025-11-16 13:00

When people ask me why I stopped playing football after college, I usually give them the easy answer—that I wanted to explore opportunities in the financial sector, much like Bishop, whose LinkedIn profile shows he’s already taken a job in the industry. But the truth is, my decision wasn’t just about career ambition. It was shaped by years of personal experience and a growing awareness of the hidden costs of the sport—costs that aren’t always obvious when you’re lacing up your cleats under Friday night lights or celebrating a hard-fought win. Football, for all its glory and life lessons, carries downsides that extend far beyond the occasional bruise or sprain. And as someone who’s been on the field and now works in a demanding professional environment, I believe it’s time we talk openly about what those are.

Let’s start with the physical toll, because honestly, that’s the part everyone thinks they understand—until they don’t. I remember my third year playing as a linebacker; the adrenaline rush was addictive, but so was the pain. By the end of the season, I’d sustained two concussions that went unreported because, well, that’s just what you did. You shook it off. What I didn’t realize then is that repetitive head trauma, even at lower levels, can have cumulative effects. Studies suggest that former football players are roughly three times more likely to develop neurodegenerative diseases compared to the general population. And it’s not just the brain. Joint issues, particularly in the knees and shoulders, haunted me long after I hung up my jersey. I’ve had teammates in their late twenties already considering arthroscopic surgery, and one close friend—a former running back—has dealt with chronic back pain that limits his daily activities. These aren’t isolated cases; they’re part of a pattern that the culture of toughness often sweeps under the rug.

Then there’s the psychological side, which I think is severely under-discussed. The pressure to perform, to be “on” every single game, takes a mental toll that’s hard to quantify. During my senior year, I struggled with anxiety before matches, something I never admitted to my coaches. You’re taught to embody resilience, but that very expectation can make it difficult to seek help when you need it. Research indicates that around 15-20% of college athletes experience symptoms of depression, yet many avoid counseling due to stigma. Football, in particular, fosters a “grin and bear it” mentality that left me feeling isolated during slumps. And let’s not forget the identity crisis that can follow when the cheering stops. For years, being a player was central to who I was—so much so that transitioning to a desk job in finance felt like losing a part of myself. Bishop’s move to the financial industry, which I spotted on LinkedIn, probably wasn’t just a career shift; it might have been a reinvention forced by the realities of athletic life.

Financially, the landscape is murkier than most assume. Sure, top NFL players earn millions, but the vast majority don’t make it that far. The average career length in the NFL hovers around just 3.3 years, and many athletes lack the support systems to pivot successfully afterward. I’ve seen teammates pour years into the sport only to face underemployment or financial strain because they hadn’t built skills outside of football. Even at the collegiate level, where scholarships can seem like a golden ticket, the time commitment often undermines academic growth. I’ll admit, I coasted through some classes because practice left me exhausted—a trade-off that hurt me early in my finance career when I had to play catch-up on analytical skills. If I had a dollar for every former player I know who’s now scrambling to build a resume, I’d have… well, let’s just say it’s a lot.

Now, I’m not saying football is all bad. The discipline, teamwork, and leadership it instilled are assets I lean on daily in my financial role. But as I look back, I wish someone had sat me down and said, “Hey, here’s what you might be sacrificing.” That’s why I’m sharing this—not to discourage anyone from playing, but to advocate for informed choices. We need better safety protocols, mental health resources, and career planning for athletes at all levels. Because whether you end up like Bishop in finance or pursue another path, understanding the hidden downsides empowers you to build a fuller, healthier life beyond the field. And in the end, that’s a win worth chasing.