This spring, I told you about Ryan Hoffman, a former star offensive lineman at my alma mater, the University of North Carolina. His life after graduating from college in 1998–two years before I graduated–went downhill quickly, almost certainly due to the effects of numerous concussions suffered during his playing days. He was able to get treatment after his story went national. Sadly, just when it looked like he was turning things around, he was killed when a car slammed into his bicycle.
According to The (Lake Wales) Daily Ridge; Hoffman was riding his bike along a badly-lit stretch of highway in Haines City, near Lakeland, on the night of November 16. A car spotted him drifting onto the roadway and slammed on brakes, but couldn’t stop in time. Hoffman was dead by the time EMS arrived. Four days later, Hoffman’s father told WCHL in Chapel Hill that his son was dead.
Hoffman suffered from severe cognitive problems that kept him from holding a steady job after his college days. He also had to battle addictions to alcohol and prescription drugs. He and his family believed that these problems were caused by numerous blows to the head he suffered during while playing football.
In hindsight, alarm bells were already going off during his senior year. By then, he had to put the things he needed for the day in plastic bags spaced apart in his bedroom. When his sister, Kira Soto, noticed this on a visit to Chapel Hill, Hoffman told her that it was the only way he could remember where they were.
Hoffman’s family was convinced that he was suffering from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a brain disorder caused by repeated hits to the head. Most notably, it was diagnosed in Mike Webster, Terry Bradshaw’s longtime center, and in late Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver Chris Henry. While Hoffman suffered many of the same symptoms–depression, memory loss, and problems with impulse control–CTE can only be definitively diagnosed in dead people. There was no doubt, however, that, in Hoffman’s own words, “something is wrong with me”–and concussions were at the root of it.
After Hoffman’s story went national in March, Carolina athletic director Bubba Cunningham sought and received NCAA permission to provide him with basic “human necessities.” Several of Hoffman’s former teammates, led by former linebacker Beau Parry, organized a crowdfunding effort to get him back on his feet. After initially being overwhelmed with the support, Hoffman accepted an invitation to fly to Chapel Hill later that month for four days of testing by Carolina professor and concussion expert Kevin Guskiewicz.
After returning to Florida, Hoffman spent some time at a rehab facility in Palm Beach before moving in with his sister in Palm Coast. In September, he told The (Raleigh) News & Observer that he was trying to find a steady job. It really looked like he was about to turn the corner before his accident.
Anyone who thinks that the powers that be in high school, college, and pro football are overreacting to the concussion problem should read about what happened to Hoffman. In recent years, high schools have been much more cautious about letting their players come back after suffering concussions, to the point of canceling games and seasons for want of enough healthy players. At Carolina, anyone who even appears to be concussed can’t return for the rest of the game, and can’t even practice until cleared by the sports medicine staff.
Speaking as a Tar Heel, learning about this hit me on a personal level. As proof of how little we really knew about concussions during my college days, I racked my brain for something I could have seen in 1996 or 1997 that suggested something was wrong with Hoffman–and I couldn’t recall a thing. Now we’re at the point that everyone on the sidelines, in the press box, in the stands and watching at home is now looking for signs of concussions. If this prevents what happened to Hoffman from happening to just one other player, the game will be much better for it.
