Dementia a problem among former pro football stars

[GA Russell]

Here's a New York Times article from the 9th which I found today. I remember John Mackey and Wayne Hawkins.

The night that Sylvia Mackey and Eleanor Perfetto first met, back in October at a Baltimore Ravens reception for former National Football League players and their families, their connection was immediate. As she sat on a couch with her husband, Mrs. Mackey watched Dr. Perfetto cradle the hand of her husband as he blankly shuffled across the floor toward the Mackeys.

“Your husband has dementia,” Mrs. Mackey said.

“Yours does, too,” Dr. Perfetto replied.

“We both just knew,” Dr. Perfetto recalled on Friday, when the two visited the assisted-living facility where Dr. Perfetto’s husband, Ralph Wenzel, resides. Mrs. Mackey quickly added, “You can see it in the wives’ faces just like the husbands’.”

On that evening last October, Mrs. Mackey added another N.F.L. wife to her growing network of women who seek her guidance and support as their husbands deteriorate mentally. Her husband, John, was a Hall of Fame tight end for the Baltimore Colts in the late 1960s and early ’70s, and is probably the most notable victim of dementia among former football players. Mrs. Mackey said that she regularly communicates with about 10 women like Dr. Perfetto as they learn to handle their husbands’ dementia, which often begins as early as their 50s.

“I know about 20 in all,” Mrs. Mackey said. “And if I know 20, there are probably 60 or 80 out there.”

Last May, Mrs. Mackey wrote a three-page letter to Paul Tagliabue, the N.F.L. commissioner at the time, detailing John Mackey’s decline, the financial ruin it would soon cause her, and how the Mackeys were not the only couple facing such a crisis at a time when the league’s coffers are bursting. She wrote that dementia “is a slow, deteriorating, ugly, caregiver-killing, degenerative, brain-destroying tragic horror,” and appealed to Mr. Tagliabue to help.

The result was the formation of the 88 Plan, a joint effort between the league and the N.F.L. Players Association named after John Mackey’s jersey number. Under the plan, families of former players who have various forms of dementia can receive money for their care and treatment — up to $88,000 a year if the player must live in an outside facility, and up to $50,000 a year if the player is cared for at home.

The first applications were mailed in late February to families of 22 former players who are already known to have dementia, including Mr. Mackey, 65, and Mr. Wenzel, 64. No family has received any money yet. The N.F.L. spokesman Greg Aiello said the league would be aggressive in informing other families about the plan.

Although both the league and the players union are quick to deny any connection between someone’s having played football and later cognitive failure — in an e-mail message, Mr. Aiello described dementia as a condition “that affects many elderly people” — the 88 Plan has been created at a time of heightened scrutiny of the effects of brain injuries among football players.

In January, a neuropathologist who examined the brain of Andre Waters, the former Philadelphia Eagles player who committed suicide last fall at 44, said that repeated concussions had led to Mr. Waters’s brain tissue resembling that of an 80-year-old with Alzheimer’s disease. And last month, the doctors of the former New England Patriots linebacker Ted Johnson, 34, said he was exhibiting the depression and memory lapses associated with oncoming Alzheimer’s.

Coming Up With a Plan

Former players who have dementia do not qualify for the N.F.L.’s disability insurance program, because neither the league nor the union consider their conditions football-related, a stance that has been cast in doubt by several scientific studies. Dr. Perfetto said that Mr. Wenzel’s neurologist had determined that on-field brain trauma was the probable cause of his Alzheimer’s-type dementia. In more lucid times Mr. Wenzel estimated his number of concussions as “more than I can count.”

Sylvia Mackey said that the cause of her husband’s frontal temporal dementia was less clear, but that his football collisions — including one headfirst impact with a goal post at full speed — were the likely culprit.

“I have been approached many times by lawyers who wanted to use me in a lawsuit — I turned them all down, and I’m glad I did,” Sylvia Mackey said, turning back to the 88 Plan. “This is better, because everyone who is affected will benefit, whether they were stars or Hall of Famers or just regular players like Ralph.”

John Mackey and Ralph Wenzel will almost certainly qualify for aid, as they appear to be textbook cases of dementia among N.F.L. veterans.

Mr. Mackey is a sturdy 6-foot-3 and 240 pounds underneath his trademark black cowboy hat. He’s convivial with fans who remember him, but soon into any interaction quickly demonstrates his mental decline. During lunch on Friday, he used a spoon to drink his coffee, thinking it was soup, and uttered non sequiturs to almost any question, including several repetitions of “I want a cookie” and “I got in the end zone.”

His most prized possessions are two rings, which he repeatedly proffered on his fists. “I got this one for winning Super Bowl V, and this one when they put me in the Hall of Fame,” he said several times. The rings are so precious to him that last year, when airport security screeners asked him to remove them, he grew enraged, ran toward the gate and had to be wrestled to the ground, screaming, by armed officials.

“I was afraid they might shoot him dead,” Sylvia Mackey said. She no longer lets him fly; when the two traveled from Baltimore to Miami for this year’s Super Bowl, they rode Amtrak for 28 hours. When they are home in Baltimore, John regularly attends an adult day-care facility that costs $76 a day, with 24-hour care on the near horizon.

Mr. Wenzel’s dementia is far more apparent than Mr. Mackey’s. Mr. Wenzel walks gingerly, rarely mumbles more than a few nonsensical syllables before growing tired or tongue-tied, and cannot feed himself. He can offer no memories of his N.F.L. career, whether they are about the position he played (offensive line), his seasons (1966-73), his teams (the Pittsburgh Steelers and San Diego Chargers) or his teammates.

“Do you remember playing with Lloyd Voss?” his wife asked, trying to give his memory some traction.

“No,” he said.

“Your best friend?”

“Nah,” Mr. Wenzel said as his head drooped further.

Dr. Perfetto, Mr. Wenzel’s second wife, found she could no longer care for her husband in their home in Stevensville, Md. In February she moved him to the Annapolitan Assisted Living Community at the cost of about $65,000 a year. His building’s doors are locked and guarded so the residents do not wander away.

Families Facing Bankruptcy

A senior director in health policy for Pfizer, Dr. Perfetto, 48, said that caring for her husband would eventually bankrupt her retirement accounts. (Mr. Wenzel receives a monthly N.F.L. pension of $925.) Sylvia Mackey, 65, returned to work as a flight attendant for United Air Lines several years ago solely because her husband’s pension, now $2,450 a month, fell well below their living costs. She said that if it were not for the funds from the 88 Plan, she would have to sell her home, particularly when her husband needs institutionalization. The paradox of veterans of the N.F.L., a $6 billion-a-year business, struggling to pay medical bills is compounded by another, far less obvious fact. Dr. Perfetto said that she had trouble finding a home that would accept Mr. Wenzel because victims of Alzheimer’s-type diseases occasionally become violent, and former football players of his size (6 feet 2 and 215 pounds) are difficult for staff members to subdue.

“These facilities are used to older people who are fairly decrepit — who have strokes or blindness or use a walker, that sort of thing,” Dr. Perfetto said.

Dr. Perfetto said that while she hoped to receive assistance from the 88 Plan, she remained cautious. Many former N.F.L. players and their families have complained that the league’s disability insurance system is far too strict, with thresholds too high and hurdles too numerous for the deserving to get help. This skepticism is shared by Sharon Hawkins, who will be applying for 88 Plan assistance on behalf of her husband, Wayne, a former offensive lineman for the Oakland Raiders from 1960-69 who receives at-home care for his increasing dementia.

“I’m full of hope that we’ll be able to get it,” Mrs. Hawkins, who lives in Reno, Nev., said in a telephone interview. “Until something has really happened the way they say it will, I’m reserving judgment.”

Gene Upshaw, executive director of the N.F.L. Players Association and the target of many veterans’ dissatisfaction with the disability system, said in a telephone interview that he understood Mrs. Hawkins’s doubt and agreed that there was too much red tape.

He said that even though 88 Plan awards would be determined by the same six-member panel (split evenly among appointees of the league and the union) as the league’s existing disability plan, he pledged that the 88 Plan would be handled differently.

“There will not be any red tape,” Upshaw said. “There will not be any hurdles to overcome.”

No Memories at All

Meeting up with old teammates is supposed to ease the pain among hurting N.F.L. veterans, but that was not the case with Mr. Mackey and Mr. Wenzel. They played together on the 1972 Chargers, even blocking on the same offensive line, but neither has any memory of it. Neither remembers playing for the Chargers at all.

Even after spending two hours together, and being reintroduced several times, neither man knew the other’s name.

“Do you remember playing with Ralph at all, John?” Mr. Mackey was asked.

“Who’s Ralph?” Mr. Mackey replied.

“The guy sitting to your left.”

“You’re Ralph?” he asked Mr. Wenzel.

“Yes.”

“I’m John Mackey,” he declared, staring blankly ahead.

Sylvia Mackey and Eleanor Perfetto looked on, hoping to see some glint of recognition in their husbands’ eyes. But the only sign of recognition in the room was between the two women when they turned to look at each other and smiled sadly, their connection only growing as their husbands’ disappeared.

[chris olivarez]

That is terrible. The league needs to do right by these people soon.

[Rooster_Ties]

This is an unpopular thought I'll share, but I'd go one BIG step further...

Change the game (radically, if necessary) and/or change the padding (radically, if necessary) so this shit doesn't happen in the first place (or not NEARLY as often). Whether or not the NFL makes good on these cases from a financial standpoint, the BIGGER problem is that they occurred in the first place - in what appears to be a systemic problem with the game. (Even if you pay them after the fact, are these players just "acceptable losses"??)

If it were up to me, I'd say just ban the game. I know it'd never happen in a BILLION years. (And truthfully, I really do realize that's probably 1000x more overkill than is really necessary -- which is why my first suggestion up above was more constructive.)

I feel the same way about boxing, but even more so. Grown men beating the living shit out of each other. WTF kind of sport is that?? Don't just ban boxing, criminalize it. Just because they're willing participants doesn't change the fact that the sport is basically assault and battery.

(Yes, I know I'm WAY in the minority on these issues.)

[J Larsen]

The players know the risks going in and are extremely well compensated for taking them. I don't see the problem.

PS: I generally find spectator sports to be incredibly boring, for whatever that's worth. I'll watch a baseball game every now and then, but not lately since my home team (the SF Giants) is pretty much impossible to root for these days.

[Dan Gould]

The players know the risks going in and are extremely well compensated for taking them. I don't see the problem.

Actually, "extremely well-compensated" while true in absolute terms, isn't really a fair description of the salary system in football. Contracts are not guaranteed. That fact alone leads to a lot of players putting their health at risk by playing when they shouldn't be. Signing bonuses are supposed to ease the potential sting of having non-guaranteed contracts, but I believe that players who don't fulfill a contract can be forced to pay back a pro-rated portion of that bonus.

Really, while they get paid a great deal of money, the structure of that compensation system can work against the long-term health of the players.

[J Larsen]

Sorry, no sympathy from me. If you are making a couple hundred grand a game and don't want to take a week off because you've somehow convinced yourself that you can't afford it, well...

BTW, I think guaranteed contracts are one of the worst things in MLB. Right up there with arbitration.

[AllenLowe]

let's not forget that Ronald Reagan played college football -

[Jazzmoose]

I have to agree with Dan here. (I'll wait a moment for everyone to stop gasping... ) Football players are not like baseball players with guaranteed salaries. They're tossed on the scrap heap at a moments notice, contract cancelled. As far as "knowing the risks beforehand", get real. People don't just decide to start playing football at age 21 and go pro. This is absurd. Childhood dreams are formed in childhood, and if you're actually dedicated enough to make it to the pros (or even a major college program), its hardly likely that you made a concious decision as an adult to play football.

Dementia isn't the only problem facing explayers. The physical damage is just as bad. So many former players can barely walk, due to arthritic knees. And if you really want a scare, look into the difference in life expectancy between NFL players and the general population.

I won't jump on the "ban the game" bandwagon just yet, but if anyone out there thinks boxing should be banned and football is okay, well, I have to question your command of logic...

[J Larsen]

I still can't agree, but I'll leave the debate to the sports fans. Actually, if I do that it appears there is a consensus, so perhaps I had no place in this to start with.

[BruceH]

This is an unpopular thought I'll share, but I'd go one BIG step further...

Change the game (radically, if necessary) and/or change the padding (radically, if necessary) so this shit doesn't happen in the first place (or not NEARLY as often). Whether or not the NFL makes good on these cases from a financial standpoint, the BIGGER problem is that they occurred in the first place - in what appears to be a systemic problem with the game. (Even if you pay them after the fact, are these players just "acceptable losses"??)

If it were up to me, I'd say just ban the game. I know it'd never happen in a BILLION years. (And truthfully, I really do realize that's probably 1000x more overkill than is really necessary -- which is why my first suggestion up above was more constructive.)

I feel the same way about boxing, but even more so. Grown men beating the living shit out of each other. WTF kind of sport is that?? Don't just ban boxing, criminalize it. Just because they're willing participants doesn't change the fact that the sport is basically assault and battery.

(Yes, I know I'm WAY in the minority on these issues.)

Well, I, for one, agree with you. Banning both football and boxing sounds fine to me. But then, it wouldn't change my life one iota. And someone would probably come up with equally dangerous sports, like jumping off of cliffs, or juggling hand grenades.

[Alexander]

When I was in college, I had a roommate who had played high school football. His girlfriend (who often called and visited, and would chat with me sometimes because we had both had been on debate teams at our respective high schools) told me that my roommate had been a pretty bright guy, particularly when it came to math. During his junior year of high school, he was practicing while wearing a helmet that (it later turned out) was old and had inadequate padding. He injured his head (he told me that he couldn't remember the accident at all) and was never the same after that. He had terrible short and long term memory problems. Every morning was a ritual of my roommate leaving for class, and then returning a few minutes later to get something he had forgotten. This usually happened three or four times every morning.

Today, he sells real estate. I'm sure that he's doing fine, but I can't help thinking that his life would be different if he hadn't played football (or had better equipment).

[alocispepraluger102]

Here's a New York Times article from the 9th which I found today. I remember John Mackey and Wayne Hawkins.

The night that Sylvia Mackey and Eleanor Perfetto first met, back in October at a Baltimore Ravens reception for former National Football League players and their families, their connection was immediate. As she sat on a couch with her husband, Mrs. Mackey watched Dr. Perfetto cradle the hand of her husband as he blankly shuffled across the floor toward the Mackeys.

“Your husband has dementia,” Mrs. Mackey said.

“Yours does, too,” Dr. Perfetto replied.

“We both just knew,” Dr. Perfetto recalled on Friday, when the two visited the assisted-living facility where Dr. Perfetto’s husband, Ralph Wenzel, resides. Mrs. Mackey quickly added, “You can see it in the wives’ faces just like the husbands’.”

On that evening last October, Mrs. Mackey added another N.F.L. wife to her growing network of women who seek her guidance and support as their husbands deteriorate mentally. Her husband, John, was a Hall of Fame tight end for the Baltimore Colts in the late 1960s and early ’70s, and is probably the most notable victim of dementia among former football players. Mrs. Mackey said that she regularly communicates with about 10 women like Dr. Perfetto as they learn to handle their husbands’ dementia, which often begins as early as their 50s.

“I know about 20 in all,” Mrs. Mackey said. “And if I know 20, there are probably 60 or 80 out there.”

Last May, Mrs. Mackey wrote a three-page letter to Paul Tagliabue, the N.F.L. commissioner at the time, detailing John Mackey’s decline, the financial ruin it would soon cause her, and how the Mackeys were not the only couple facing such a crisis at a time when the league’s coffers are bursting. She wrote that dementia “is a slow, deteriorating, ugly, caregiver-killing, degenerative, brain-destroying tragic horror,” and appealed to Mr. Tagliabue to help.

The result was the formation of the 88 Plan, a joint effort between the league and the N.F.L. Players Association named after John Mackey’s jersey number. Under the plan, families of former players who have various forms of dementia can receive money for their care and treatment — up to $88,000 a year if the player must live in an outside facility, and up to $50,000 a year if the player is cared for at home.

The first applications were mailed in late February to families of 22 former players who are already known to have dementia, including Mr. Mackey, 65, and Mr. Wenzel, 64. No family has received any money yet. The N.F.L. spokesman Greg Aiello said the league would be aggressive in informing other families about the plan.

Although both the league and the players union are quick to deny any connection between someone’s having played football and later cognitive failure — in an e-mail message, Mr. Aiello described dementia as a condition “that affects many elderly people” — the 88 Plan has been created at a time of heightened scrutiny of the effects of brain injuries among football players.

In January, a neuropathologist who examined the brain of Andre Waters, the former Philadelphia Eagles player who committed suicide last fall at 44, said that repeated concussions had led to Mr. Waters’s brain tissue resembling that of an 80-year-old with Alzheimer’s disease. And last month, the doctors of the former New England Patriots linebacker Ted Johnson, 34, said he was exhibiting the depression and memory lapses associated with oncoming Alzheimer’s.

Coming Up With a Plan

Former players who have dementia do not qualify for the N.F.L.’s disability insurance program, because neither the league nor the union consider their conditions football-related, a stance that has been cast in doubt by several scientific studies. Dr. Perfetto said that Mr. Wenzel’s neurologist had determined that on-field brain trauma was the probable cause of his Alzheimer’s-type dementia. In more lucid times Mr. Wenzel estimated his number of concussions as “more than I can count.”

Sylvia Mackey said that the cause of her husband’s frontal temporal dementia was less clear, but that his football collisions — including one headfirst impact with a goal post at full speed — were the likely culprit.

“I have been approached many times by lawyers who wanted to use me in a lawsuit — I turned them all down, and I’m glad I did,” Sylvia Mackey said, turning back to the 88 Plan. “This is better, because everyone who is affected will benefit, whether they were stars or Hall of Famers or just regular players like Ralph.”

John Mackey and Ralph Wenzel will almost certainly qualify for aid, as they appear to be textbook cases of dementia among N.F.L. veterans.

Mr. Mackey is a sturdy 6-foot-3 and 240 pounds underneath his trademark black cowboy hat. He’s convivial with fans who remember him, but soon into any interaction quickly demonstrates his mental decline. During lunch on Friday, he used a spoon to drink his coffee, thinking it was soup, and uttered non sequiturs to almost any question, including several repetitions of “I want a cookie” and “I got in the end zone.”

His most prized possessions are two rings, which he repeatedly proffered on his fists. “I got this one for winning Super Bowl V, and this one when they put me in the Hall of Fame,” he said several times. The rings are so precious to him that last year, when airport security screeners asked him to remove them, he grew enraged, ran toward the gate and had to be wrestled to the ground, screaming, by armed officials.

“I was afraid they might shoot him dead,” Sylvia Mackey said. She no longer lets him fly; when the two traveled from Baltimore to Miami for this year’s Super Bowl, they rode Amtrak for 28 hours. When they are home in Baltimore, John regularly attends an adult day-care facility that costs $76 a day, with 24-hour care on the near horizon.

Mr. Wenzel’s dementia is far more apparent than Mr. Mackey’s. Mr. Wenzel walks gingerly, rarely mumbles more than a few nonsensical syllables before growing tired or tongue-tied, and cannot feed himself. He can offer no memories of his N.F.L. career, whether they are about the position he played (offensive line), his seasons (1966-73), his teams (the Pittsburgh Steelers and San Diego Chargers) or his teammates.

“Do you remember playing with Lloyd Voss?” his wife asked, trying to give his memory some traction.

“No,” he said.

“Your best friend?”

“Nah,” Mr. Wenzel said as his head drooped further.

Dr. Perfetto, Mr. Wenzel’s second wife, found she could no longer care for her husband in their home in Stevensville, Md. In February she moved him to the Annapolitan Assisted Living Community at the cost of about $65,000 a year. His building’s doors are locked and guarded so the residents do not wander away.

Families Facing Bankruptcy

A senior director in health policy for Pfizer, Dr. Perfetto, 48, said that caring for her husband would eventually bankrupt her retirement accounts. (Mr. Wenzel receives a monthly N.F.L. pension of $925.) Sylvia Mackey, 65, returned to work as a flight attendant for United Air Lines several years ago solely because her husband’s pension, now $2,450 a month, fell well below their living costs. She said that if it were not for the funds from the 88 Plan, she would have to sell her home, particularly when her husband needs institutionalization. The paradox of veterans of the N.F.L., a $6 billion-a-year business, struggling to pay medical bills is compounded by another, far less obvious fact. Dr. Perfetto said that she had trouble finding a home that would accept Mr. Wenzel because victims of Alzheimer’s-type diseases occasionally become violent, and former football players of his size (6 feet 2 and 215 pounds) are difficult for staff members to subdue.

“These facilities are used to older people who are fairly decrepit — who have strokes or blindness or use a walker, that sort of thing,” Dr. Perfetto said.

Dr. Perfetto said that while she hoped to receive assistance from the 88 Plan, she remained cautious. Many former N.F.L. players and their families have complained that the league’s disability insurance system is far too strict, with thresholds too high and hurdles too numerous for the deserving to get help. This skepticism is shared by Sharon Hawkins, who will be applying for 88 Plan assistance on behalf of her husband, Wayne, a former offensive lineman for the Oakland Raiders from 1960-69 who receives at-home care for his increasing dementia.

“I’m full of hope that we’ll be able to get it,” Mrs. Hawkins, who lives in Reno, Nev., said in a telephone interview. “Until something has really happened the way they say it will, I’m reserving judgment.”

Gene Upshaw, executive director of the N.F.L. Players Association and the target of many veterans’ dissatisfaction with the disability system, said in a telephone interview that he understood Mrs. Hawkins’s doubt and agreed that there was too much red tape.

He said that even though 88 Plan awards would be determined by the same six-member panel (split evenly among appointees of the league and the union) as the league’s existing disability plan, he pledged that the 88 Plan would be handled differently.

“There will not be any red tape,” Upshaw said. “There will not be any hurdles to overcome.”

No Memories at All

Meeting up with old teammates is supposed to ease the pain among hurting N.F.L. veterans, but that was not the case with Mr. Mackey and Mr. Wenzel. They played together on the 1972 Chargers, even blocking on the same offensive line, but neither has any memory of it. Neither remembers playing for the Chargers at all.

Even after spending two hours together, and being reintroduced several times, neither man knew the other’s name.

“Do you remember playing with Ralph at all, John?” Mr. Mackey was asked.

“Who’s Ralph?” Mr. Mackey replied.

“The guy sitting to your left.”

“You’re Ralph?” he asked Mr. Wenzel.

“Yes.”

“I’m John Mackey,” he declared, staring blankly ahead.

Sylvia Mackey and Eleanor Perfetto looked on, hoping to see some glint of recognition in their husbands’ eyes. But the only sign of recognition in the room was between the two women when they turned to look at each other and smiled sadly, their connection only growing as their husbands’ disappeared.

thank you

[J Larsen]

This isn't necessarily relevant to the conversation at hand, but as a matter of curiosity if nothing else, one of the world's most in-demand and expensive economic consultants is a former NFL All-Pro offensive lineman. His name is Blaine Nye. I've been involved in a couple projects that he worked on.

[GA Russell]

Here's a follow-up. Many more players have applied for aid than they expected.

http://www.globesports.com/servlet/story/R...tsFootball/home

35 ex-NFL players qualify for dementia-Alzheimer's assistance

Associated Press

NEW YORK — Gene Upshaw was taken aback when he first saw the list of retired NFL players applying for financial help under a new program to help those with dementia and Alzheimer's disease.

"I played with or against quite a few of these guys," the executive director of the NFL players' union said Wednesday. "I knew one or two were having problems, but I never knew the extent."

Upshaw, a Hall of Fame guard for the Oakland Raiders from 1968-82, is one of four people being honored Thursday night by the Alzheimer's Association of New York for helping start the "88" plan. It provides up to $88,000 from the NFL and the union to help with the care of players afflicted with dementia or related brain problems.

Since the plan took effect Feb. 1, 35 retired players have been approved for aid, with 19 more applications pending. That's up from 21 players two months ago, when the league and union were still trying to go beyond what Upshaw called "word of mouth" in identifying players.

Now the identification is being done through the Bert Bell retirement fund, which handles pensions for more than 9,000 retired players, with the money coming from a trust fund administered by the league and union. So far, according to the NFL, 103 potential candidates for aid have been identified. There are 54 applications, and no one has been turned down. The applications of 19 players who have not yet been certified are to be reviewed.

But it's still hard to know many ex-players need help.

"A lot of people are embarrassed to talk about it or to acknowledge they have a problem," says Dan Rooney, the Pittsburgh Steelers owner and a member of the NFL committee that oversees the plan. "They can have lucid moments when they think things are going all right."

The plan is part of the labor contract agreed upon in March 2006 by the league and union and is administered by Upshaw and Harold Henderson, an NFL senior vice president. The "88" is the number of Hall of Fame tight end John Mackey, one of the first former players who qualified. His wife, Sylvia, was instrumental in persuading Upshaw and former commissioner Paul Tagliabue to include aid for dementia in the new contract.

NFL and union officials say the correlation between NFL players and Alzheimer's is anecdotal rather than scientific, and experts in the field agree.

But the heightened interest in the subject follows the death of Andre Waters, who committed suicide last November at 44. Reports concluded he had brain damage that resulted from multiple concussions during 12 years as an NFL safety. In addition, The Boston Globe and The New York Times reported in February that 34-year-old Ted Johnson, who spent 10 years as a linebacker with the New England Patriots, shows early signs of Alzheimer's.

Activists view the NFL/NFLPA program as a landmark.

"This is the first union and industry program of its kind and it's the first that recognizes the burden the disease puts on families," said Lou-Ellen Barkan, president and chief executive of the New York Alzheimer's Association. On Thursday, that group will honor Upshaw and Henderson as well as Sylvia Mackey and Dr. Eleanor Perfetto, wife of Ralph Wenzel, the only other former player who has been publicly identified as part of the program.

Under the program, players can receive up to $50,000 a year for home care and up to $88,000 if they are institutionalized. Barkan said that's part of an ignored part of the burden of Alzheimer's — those with dementia or Alzheimer's need full-time care, and spouses or children must quit jobs to give full-time care.

"Something like this allows them to hire help," Barkan said. "It allows them to keep jobs without the burden of also being a full-time caregiver.

Those involved with the program say they can't demonstrate clearly that dementia among football players correlates with football.

"I'll leave it for the doctors to decide that," Upshaw says. "A lot of the guys we're talking about are pretty much up in age, so it's hard to know why they have the problem."

Barkan agrees but notes: "Just from what doctors tell us, there is a strong correlation from multiple concussions and the onset of problems."

[Kalo]

That's demented...

[BruceH]

That's demented...

You're demented!

[Chuck Nessa]

Thank God (or Mark Cuban) for another league in the future. We can start fresh with undamaged goods.

[Kalo]

That's demented...

You're demented!

And I didn't even play football in high school...

[Van Basten II]

Considering some off field events, i would say that current players are suffering from forms of dementia also.

[Guy Berger]

Dementia a problem among current bulletin board members...

Guy

[jazzbo]

Not me. My palms aren't even hairy.