Former NFL star Dobler faces dilemma with pain

The man once called the dirtiest player in professional football asked for a moment. Conrad Dobler had just answered the phone and needed to hobble to a chair by his desk across the room before he could talk.

"I'm on crutches, so I don't move very fast," he said. "Bear with me."

He needed the crutches after the latest of 32 operations on his knees. The cure has been as bad as the problem. He mentions that casually, like one might shrug off a headache or a hangnail. He believes he has had nine knee replacements, but it could be 10.

"I've lost count, to be honest with you," he said.

Doctors tell him the best thing would be simply to amputate his right leg to combat unrelenting pain, the residue of 129 games in 10 seasons in the National Football League. He is not ready to do that, but the alternative isn't any better. At age 59, all he does is hurt.

Super Bowl week is about to begin in Miami, and even with the celebration and buildup for that game it's important to remember guys like Dobler. He and hundreds like him helped build the NFL to its current popularity and prosperity, yet they have been largely forgotten and kicked to the curb.

At least a few people are in their corner. There are advocacy groups, such as PAST (Pain Alternatives Solutions and Treatment) - a collection of doctors and treatment specialists who offer donated services to Dobler and other former players.

And former Tampa Bay Bucs President Gay Culverhouse also has taken up the cause. She has a foundation that provides physical and legal support to those in need.

"It's a moral issue with me," she said. "We need to right the wrongs of the past."

The NFL has programs to help men like Dobler, but retired and needy players complain that it's hard to qualify for assistance. They say the league sets up unrealistic requirements to prove that the players' injuries actually came from football.

"I thought we took care of our own," Dobler said.

It can take a decade or more to feel the full impact of a career spent in a violent contact sport. By then, players say the NFL doesn't want to hear about it and their union looks the other way.

"It's because of money," Culverhouse said. "Do the math."

Studies have shown that repeated blows to the head during a career may contribute to dementia. Under an NFL program, players showing symptoms can receive up to $88,000 a year. Culverhouse said about 100 players currently receive assistance. That's about $8.8 million annually.

"Now, there are probably 500 or 600 others who should qualify," she said. "Pretty soon you're talking $40 million or $50 million a year, just for that. The NFL will never want to do that. But I'm going to be the league's biggest financial nightmare."

We have written a lot about this issue at The Tampa Tribune and every time I'm amazed at the indifference shown these players by the league and union. Some of their cases would tear you apart - men who were dynamic athletes, now living in isolation, hooked on pills to combat pain and unable to afford the medical care that could give them a better quality of life.

Those are pitiful cases.

And then there is Conrad Dobler.

A medical blur

He was a three-time Pro Bowl player in the offensive line for the St. Louis Cardinals and New Orleans Saints, one of the most recognizable players of his era - although some would say "infamous."

In 1977, Sports Illustrated put him on the cover with the headline "Pro Football's Dirtiest Player." He knew just where to gouge an opponent, where to kick, where to scratch, what to twist, where to bite, and it was just part of the game.

Contrary to his image, though, Dobler is no Neanderthal goon. He is witty, intelligent, self-deprecating and insightful.

His life these days is a medical blur, searching for a way to make the hurting stop. When he isn't receiving treatment options from any of several doctors who have tried to help, Dobler tends to his wife of 21 years, Joy, at their home in Kansas City. She has been a paraplegic since suffering a broken neck 10 years ago.

He didn't make a lot of money playing football - the year of his third Pro Bowl, Dobler made $40,000 - and Joy's need for constant care combined with his debilitating pain has drained the Doblers of their money. He runs a business that provides outsourced medical staffing, but it's in trouble. The economy, you know.

Some people have stepped up to help. Golfer Phil Mickelson saw a story on TV about Dobler and got in touch right away. He paid for Dobler's two kids to go to college.

"As the old saying goes, pride is hard to swallow but it will go down," Dobler said. "I've been the one visiting hospitals and donating money. If someone needed a thousand dollars, I gave it to them. Then when Phil Mickelson helped me out, just saying 'Thank you' didn't seem like enough."

During a recent visit to PAST, Dobler was told there wasn't much more doctors could do for his right leg.

"He and I were traveling together," said Jennifer Smith, who works with PAST and serves as a medical advocate for the retired players. "He had just had a knee replacement but there was an infection. His knee was frozen straight; he could only lie down in the back seat of the car.

"Well, I looked down and his pant leg was all wet. His leg was oozing stuff from the infection. His knee was just bone on bone. Something had to be done."

Didn't know the carnage

Doctors said they could perform a procedure that would permanently leave his leg unable to bend, which would leave it 6 inches shorter than his left one.

"I'd look like Chester in 'Gunsmoke,'" Dobler said. "I'd have to walk along the street with one foot on the curb. With it that much shorter, I'd probably fall and break a rib anyway."

They could replace the knee again.

Or they could amputate. They told him that was his best option. He went for the replacement surgery anyway.

"They'll open up my casket in 2000 years and wonder if I was a robot because I've got so much metal in me," he said.

He has written a book called "Pride and Perseverance" and if you download a copy from his Web site - www.conraddobler.net - the proceeds go the Kennedy Krieger Institute for spinal cord research. Focusing on ways to make his wife walk again helps him keep going through the pain and surgeries.

The pain is a price he never thought about while playing a game he still loves. A game, it turns out, that doesn't return that love to him or those many former players just like him. Now who's playing dirty?

"We're fighting a juggernaut that brings in billions a year," he said. "I don't know what I would have done if I didn't play football but I do know I'd have my health.

"I loved what I got from football but you get caught up in the gladiator mentality. I just didn't know how much carnage it would have on my body."