The ultimate football warrior died Saturday.
Chuck Bednarik was 89 and was probably still nasty enough to play linebacker until a few years ago.
As fate would have it, Chris Borland retired a few days earlier. He and Bednarik had the same position and initials, but Borland was 24 and decided playing linebacker was too nasty a job.
The blood-and-guts crowd is probably wondering if Borland's announcement pushed Bednarik over the edge. If football is a test of manhood, Borland just wadded it up and threw it away.
What did Bednarik think?
We'll never know, but my guess is the man who epitomized toughness realized how the definition has changed.
God knows they didn't come any tougher than "Concrete Charlie." The nickname came from his offseason job selling concrete.
Bednarik's biggest salary with the Eagles was only $27,000 a year. He probably would have played for free.
"Some men are born to be poets or astronauts," teammate Tom Brookshier said in 1993. "He was born to hit people."
Bednarik came from steel-mill roots. He had a square jaw, a violent temper and a sense of duty.
He joined the Army out of high school and flew 30 missions as a gunner on a B-24 bomber during World War II. A few years later, Frank Gifford discovered how the Germans felt.
He caught a short pass and turned upfield before Bednarik demolished him. The hit was clean, but the photo of Bednarik pumping his fist over Gifford's limp body was blood-chilling.
Bednarik said he was just celebrating the fumble he'd caused, not the damage he'd wreaked. Either way, he probably would have been kicked out of the game and fined $100,000 if it happened today.
Concrete Charlie hated how the NFL had gone soft. He called today's players "cocky SOBs" and "overpaid and underplayed multimillionaires." He said Deion Sanders "couldn't tackle my wife Emma."
He scoffed Deion's two-way performances. You want two ways?
Bednarik was an All-Pro center and linebacker. In the 1960 NFL title game against Green Bay, he played 58 of the 60 minutes. He was 35 years old.
Bednarik made the game-saving tackle on the final play. The Eagles won 17-13, and he celebrated by smoking a cigar and a cigarette in the locker room.
Now along comes Borland. He has never smoked in the locker room, much less flown a bombing mission over Europe. But he had a promising future with the 49ers. Then after one season, Borland decided to kick the football habit.
"Football is inherently dangerous," he said Sunday on CBS' Face the Nation, "and that will never change."
That didn't bother Bednarik, but he played long before football came with a surgeon general's warning. A lot of players left with their brains intact. Thousands were not as lucky.
Borland simply did not want to roll that dice. He is the first NFL player to take such a proactive stance, but he is not on a crusade.
"I love football," he said. "I've had a blast, and I don't regret the last 10 years of my life at all."
It's the next 60 years Borland is worried about.
He knows he'll miss "the visceral feeling of the violence of the game." Bednarik could relate to that. He also could have appreciated how Borland might end up selling concrete.
Borland's four-year rookie deal was worth $2.3 million, but he would have made a lot more over his career. Not only is he giving that up, he's voluntarily returning three-quarters of his $617,436 signing bonus.
"I never played the game for money or attention," he said.
The motivations have stayed the same over a half-century. It's our knowledge that has changed.
Bednarik proved his toughness by never coming off the field. Borland is proving his by walking away.
Sports on 03/25/2015