However, this announcement also stated that a total of 87 former players had applied.  This raises some serious questions:   Why were two-thirds of the applicants rejected?  What are the criteria?  Are there any criteria?  Do you have to be a “friend” of Upshaw’s to be approved?  I know that Dave Pear –who is currently in a skilled nursing facility recuperating from his left hip replacement a few weeks ago – made contact with the NFLPA office at least three times to see if he could take advantage of this benefit.  They never even sent him an application.

John Hogan

P.S. for anyone who has ever mocked Buffalo as a sports town – Kevin’s remarkable recovery, and saving the life of Florida Panther’s Richard Zednick can both be attributed to the extraordinary talents of Buffalo physicians and their hospitals – truly life savers!

John Hogan

Former Ravens player shows perseverance in the face of his toughest

fight: Lou Gehrig’s disease

By Jamison Hensley

Baltimore Sun reporter

March 10, 2008

 O.J. Brigance remembers the 2001 Super Bowl like it was yesterday, when he charged down the field for the Ravens and collided with a kick returner for the first tackle of the game. 

Now, everyday activities like eating are as challenging as his old workouts. Picking up a fork these days feels like lifting more than a hundred pounds of weights.

Brigance, 38, was diagnosed in May 2007 with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), often referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease, a progressive and fatal disease that shuts down nerve cells responsible for movement.

The body that allowed Brigance to compete at football’s highest level is betraying him.

Brigance needs to be driven to work because he can’t lift his arms. He needs to sit on the bed to put on his pants because he loses his balance. And he needs his wife to button his shirt because he doesn’t have the same dexterity with his hands.

“I can see where you can fold up the tent,” said Brigance, the Ravens’

director of player development. “To be totally honest, I’m not always upbeat. It’s tough. But I’ve always believed that we’re able to overcome more than what we think.”

Brigance will be honored tomorrow at the Ed Block Courage Awards, receiving the Johnny Unitas Tops in Courage Award for battling the disease with the same willpower he used to fight his way into the NFL.

In 1996, he was rejected by 28 of 30 NFL teams when he called for a tryout, but ultimately had a seven-year career.

About 5,600 people in the United States are diagnosed with ALS each year, a disease that generally paralyzes muscles and the lungs, often causing suffocation, but doesn’t impair the brain or any of the senses. There is no known cure, and most die within five years of being diagnosed.

Brigance could have chosen to walk away from his job and handle his ordeal privately. A former special teams standout who prided himself on outworking current Ravens in the weight room, Brigance knows he is a shadow of the overachieving player who played on winning teams in the 2001 Super Bowl and the Canadian Football League’s 1995 Grey Cup in Baltimore.

His rippled muscles have disintegrated and his arms sag to the side of his body. His fingers can no longer wrap around a football, much less give a firm handshake.

But Brigance has dedicated himself to be a guiding hand to the Ravens’

players, preaching to them that adversity makes you stronger.

“No one has beaten this thing, but I am going to be the one who does,”

Brigance told the players before the season began. “They’re going to find a cure.”

Despite the effects of ALS, Brigance has continued work that has become a standard of excellence around the NFL. As director of player development, Brigance assists players with each phase of their careers, including after their playing days are over. He also provides young players, especially rookies, with life skills programs to help them grow off the field.

The league’s player development office has recognized Brigance as having the best overall program for the past two seasons as well as the best internship program in 2005.

Brigance’s influence will now be felt outside the Ravens locker room.

Known for his gentlemanly way and ever-present smile, Brigance has become the ALS Ambassador for the Packard Center, the research center for the disease at the Johns Hopkins University. He is honorary chairman for the center’s May 3 race in Baltimore, a fundraising effort for ALS research.

Brigance has also set up his own foundation, the Brigance Brigade, to create more awareness about the disease.

“I think we can all learn something from O.J.,” said linebacker Bart Scott, who pointed out that he wears Brigance’s number, 57. “If I can be half the man, player and husband he is, I think I will accomplish a lot in my life.”

Perseverance

Brigance only wanted to play football.

It was hard for him to think anything else, especially when his mom gave him the name Orenthial James – a minor variation of the spelling of Orenthal James Simpson – in honor of her favorite sports hero.

To ultimately achieve his dream of playing in the NFL after being a three-year starter at Rice University, the Houston native had to rely on patience (a five-year journey in the CFL that took him from British Columbia to the Baltimore Stallions) and perseverance.

“Many people doubted that I could play, being smaller,” said Brigance, who was a 6-foot, 236-pound linebacker. “So, I’ve always had that chip on my shoulder because I was going to show them, I was going to prove them wrong.”

Brigance spent four seasons with the Miami Dolphins, where he was voted team captain twice. He then came back to Baltimore to play for the Ravens, winning the Super Bowl in January 2001. In the Ravens’

34-7 rout of the New York Giants, Brigance had five tackles on special teams.

“O.J. was never one of those guys who was overly talented as a football player,” said offensive tackle Jonathan Ogden. “But he was so dedicated and professional about his job. If everybody approached the game like he did, we would have a lot of great players.”

Another passion

In the grand picture of the NFL, Brigance was just a speck as a player, a special teams standout who never made millions nor became a household name.

Brigance’s impact has repeatedly been felt more in the locker room than on the field, colleagues say.

Even as a player, Brigance was the one teammates came to, whether it was an issue with their family, a girlfriend or depression. They knew that Brigance wouldn’t give them the answer they wanted to hear but the answer they needed to hear.

After Brigance’s career ended in 2003, he contacted Brian Billick, who told him that the Ravens were looking for someone to replace Earnest Byner as the team’s director of player development.

It became a perfect fit.

“It’s not a job for him, because it’s something he loves,” said his wife, Chanda, who has been married to Brigance for 13 years. “Just like football, this is another passion for him.”

In Brigance’s time with the Ravens, the team has averaged 10 to 15 internships a year. About five players return to take classes, with one to two graduating each year.

“The things that O.J. does are really priceless,” said linebacker Terrell Suggs. “He was one of the driving forces to getting me to go back to school.”

‘I’m not afraid’

Brigance knew there was something wrong when he played racquetball one day.

There was a pain in his right shoulder that didn’t allow him to hit the ball with the same velocity. He thought it could be his rotator cuff, but he soon learned that it was far worse.

A devout Christian since his sophomore year in college, Brigance has relied heavily on his faith.

His other inspiration comes from a saying given to him by former teammate Harry Swayne, which is written on a board inside his office:

A man with an outstanding attitude makes the most of it while he gets the worst of it.

Brigance tries to do everything himself, never asking for help.

“In his heart, he knows he will be the victor,” his wife said.

The Ravens have hired Swayne as an assistant, although Brigance expects to handle the same workload this year.

Brigance wants to continue counseling players and hosting a television show for the team.

He wants his life, as well as his message, to remain the same.

“I want to let everyone know I’m not afraid,” Brigance said. “I’ve been up against so many challenges, and this is another one. I’m not going to bow down to it.”

Subject: Commissioner Goodell’s Alliance 2/29/08

 In June of 2007, NFLPA  representative Doug Ell testified to the Subcommittee on Commercial and Administrative Law ( Washington DC) that the NFL and NFLPA, “recently agreed to immediately grant T(otal)&P(ermanent) disability benefits to players already receiving social security disability”. However, this has not been the case.  

[My Comments]than 7 months have passed and we are still waiting. This is contrary to what was promised to Congress. My suggestion is, “make your yes mean yes and your no mean no”.

The press release on 2/29/08 states that, “players who were denied benefits under the NFL plan but have subsequently been found disabled by social security (may) have their cases (reconsidered). Reconsidered does NOT mean, “to immediately grant”. Is this consistent with the congressional testimony given?

With all due respect Mr. Ell, “you have a credibility issue with retired players”. With this type of mentality that the NFLPA unwittingly displayed, I now have to question if this alliance is even real. Is it? The standard of integrity seems to only lower itself. Is it wrong to promise the Senate one thing and then do your own thing?

Please respond. Sincerely, Dave & Heidi PearNFL 1975-1980Social Security Disabilityweb site: davepear.com

The New York Times

March 10, 2008

By GREG BISHOP

BEND, Ore. — On the first day of the first football season after his retirement, Drew Bledsoe actually missed two-a-days. In the morning, he climbed into his boat and floated on Whitefish Lake in Montana and allowed for 30 minutes of reflection.

Then he started training camp.

This was not training camp like the ones Bledsoe reported to during his 14-year N.F.L. career. This was Camp Bledsoe, the beginning of his transition.

He grabbed a camera and asked his wife to snap a shot of him sitting on a deck, feet in the water, beer clutched between his legs. He sent the picture to dozens of friends still playing in the N.F.L., all sweating through training camp in the sun.

“As you can see from this first picture I am maintaining my strict workout regimen,” he wrote them. “You can see here I am alternating some 12-ounce curls with some toe swirls. I generally do these until the bottle gets too light to offer enough resistance then I start over with a fresh one.”

The messages continued through the first week of camp — Bledsoe riding his motorcycle, sipping wine, playing golf. By the end, Bledsoe knew deep down what he already suspected. His N.F.L. career was over.

“When training camp came and went, and I wasn’t there, that was when the official break happened,” said the 36-year-old Bledsoe, who announced his retirement last April. “I left that phase of my life and moved on to the next one.”

Last week, quarterback Brett Favre joined Bledsoe in the retired quarterbacks club. Next season, Favre will experience what Bledsoe went through this year, a transition from veteran signal caller to real-world rookie.

On a recent two-day tour of his new life in the city of Bend, Ore., Bledsoe conducted a business meeting over wine, coached third graders on the basketball court and closed a business deal on the ski slopes at nearby Mount Bachelor.

Bledsoe began planning his transition six years before his retirement, about the same time his tenure ended with the New England Patriots.

They selected him out of Washington State with the first overall pick in the 1993 draft, and Bledsoe’s entire family traveled to New York City, their first trip together on an airplane.

“Like the Waltons go to New York” Bledsoe said.

During his ninth season in New England, against the Jets in late September 2001, Bledsoe took the most vicious of hit of his career.

Linebacker Mo Lewis smacked Bledsoe along the sideline as he tried to run for a first down. Four liters of blood flowed into Bledsoe’s chest cavity, until his lungs failed to inflate.

Bledsoe went back into the game, but he could not remember plays he spent years practicing. He needed assistance getting dressed after the game.

In Bledsoe’s absence, the Patriots turned to a young and unknown quarterback named Tom Brady. Bledsoe threw a touchdown pass in the American Football Conference Championship game that year, but Brady started in the Super Bowl, and the Patriots’ dynasty began with Bledsoe on the sideline.

“I don’t play the what-if game much,” Bledsoe said. “And of course, I believe had I not gotten hit, we would have done the same thing. As an athlete, you have to believe that.”

After that season, Bledsoe felt a strong urge to walk away. Instead, he went to Buffalo, where he made his fourth Pro Bowl, then to Dallas, where he was benched again. His career ended with more than 44,000 passing yards and 251 touchdown passes.

The Cowboys pulled Bledsoe at halftime of a game against the Giants in late October 2006. He said he decided to retire then, but waited until the season ended to make sure he was not simply making an emotional decision.

Bledsoe says he is still bothered by the perception at the end of his career that he was too slow and his skills were declining. He insists his skills “had not diminished to any measurable degree.”Bledsoe wished he could show up at the scouting combine wearing a disguise, pretending to be from a small school, essentially starting over.

“Perception always bugged me,” said Adam Bledsoe, his younger brother.

“In the latter half of his career, he became a whipping boy.”

Bledsoe relished standing on the field, the center of attention, 80,000 fans packed in the stands. But after the second benching, after teammates started addressing him by Mister, he decided to fade into the background. He started to decline interview requests and began starting businesses.

He knew the statistics of recently retired players, the marriages that crumbled, the money that disappeared, the friend who refused to watch football for three years after retirement. Gone were the people who made his doctor’s appointments, gave him directions and planned nearly every minute of his day.

His biggest fear: finishing football and having no reason to get out of bed in the morning. As a result, Bledsoe said yes to everything.

During his career, a winery deal with three other N.F.L. quarterbacks

– Damon Huard, Rick Mirer and Dan Marino — fell through, so Bledsoe started his own vineyard. He planted the grapes three years ago, and the winery will start producing in 2010.

A coffee business, 11 Roasters, is in full swing. Bledsoe proudly shows off the fire-engine red roaster in his Bend offices and talks about his blends like a Starbucks chairman. (He says the Esmeralda special is a favorite.)

The idea behind all his endeavors, whether wine, coffee, real estate or the Drew Bledsoe Foundation, is to start slow, build small and then expand. Bledsoe said he believed every coffee blend, every bottle of wine, should tell a story.

His advice to Favre? Stay busy. Adam Bledsoe jokes that after his brother retired, he took golf as seriously as he used to take football. He raised $600,000 in four months to put in FieldTurf at the local high school.

Along the way, the strangest thing happened. Bledsoe sometimes awoke at 4:30 in the morning, excited to start the day.

He coached flag football in the fall and basketball in the winter. He and his wife, Maura, will celebrate their 12th wedding anniversary in May. Finger paintings from four children — Stu, 10, John, 8, Henry, 7, Healy, 4 — hang from the refrigerator.

Sometimes, Bledsoe’s family wonders the same things as everybody else.

Like when Healy asked the other day, “Daddy, when are you going to play football again?”

Arizona, Carolina, Cincinnati and Jacksonville called this past season. Jacksonville’s offer intrigued Bledsoe. The Jaguars had a strong running game, a solid offensive line, a coach Bledsoe liked, and they were offering an easy seven-figure paycheck.

Bledsoe seriously considered it, but he decided to turn down the offer. When he woke up the next morning with a giant smile on his face, he knew he made the right decision.

Toward the end of his career, Bledsoe learned he had chronic head trauma migraines. Every time he was hit in the back of the head, he lost his peripheral vision.

“I really don’t have any regrets,” Bledsoe said. “Most people leave the game angry, at least for a little while. I had that with the Patriots, but I got over it, moved on.”

Humor eases the transition. His e-mail address starts exqb11. The Bledsoes’ Christmas card pictured the family dressed in holiday gear, with its recently retired father sitting oblivious in the middle, watching television.

There were times when Bledsoe missed the game. At a restaurant in Montana, the Cowboys’ first preseason game was on television, and there were all his teammates, guys he played with only a few months earlier, moving on.During the Super Bowl, the Bledsoes went skiing in Jackson Hole, Wyo. They planned to leave on a Sunday, but snow forced them back inside the cabin, where they watched the Giants’ victory on television.

When the game ended, Maura held a glass of wine and toasted her husband on surviving his first season out of football. She noticed tears forming in his eyes.

At the end of the two-day Bend tour, Bledsoe pulled his Mercedes into the lot where the family is building its second dream home. The house will be about 10,000 square feet, with a wine cellar and a theater and an underground basketball court.

The last time Bledsoe built a home like this, he played for the Patriots, his career still in front of him. Scanning the mass of concrete, Bledsoe smiled. New dream house, new dreams, new life. This transition is complete.

“His career didn’t end the way we thought,” Maura said. “I always wanted it to end in the Super Bowl, ride into the sunset. But this works. He’s happy and busier than he’s ever been.”

By LEE TANT, T&D Staff Writer

March 10, 2008

Levon Kirkland was told by some people growing up that he wouldn’t do well in life. Like many of the students he spoke to at Edisto High School this week, Kirkland grew up in a small town, where large ambition is often met with an even greater skepticism.

Luckily for Kirkland, he didn’t listen to the skeptics. He actually did much better in life than those same people who failed to realize his potential.

Not only did Kirkland become an All-American linebacker at Clemson University, he transformed the talent he worked so hard to develop into a successful National Football League career.

That’s not bad for someone from the small town of Lamar. Kirkland said the children at Edisto reminded him of his situation growing up in a small town.

“I took an opportunity and made the most out of it. You guys have the opportunity to make the most out of it,” Kirkland told freshman students in the Edisto GEAR-UP program.

The GEAR-UP program was developed by the State Commission on Higher Education to help prepare children for college. It assists students in tutoring, mentoring and obtaining financial aid for college, among other things. There are 282 students in the Edisto GEAR-UP program.

Kirkland said the reason he came to speak to the children at Edisto was he genuinely cares about their future.

“Our future depends on what you do,” he said. Kirkland actually had no idea his future would one day include the NFL. He originally wanted to be a detective.

He finished his stellar NFL career with two Pro Bowl appearances, a

$25 million contract and a great performance for the Pittsburgh Steelers in Super Bowl XXX. He played for the Steelers, Seattle Seahawks and Philadelphia Eagles in his 11 years of pro football.

While his Steelers lost Super Bowl XXX to the Dallas Cowboys, Kirkland brags that there is one thing he could never lose.

He went back to Clemson after his stint in the NFL and finished his sociology degree. He is now pursuing his master’s degree and is the minority recruiter for Clemson’s admissions department.

“The money can go, but the one thing no one can take away is my degree,” Kirkland said.

He told the students that while he may have become a multi-millionaire in the NFL, having a college degree makes him more legitimate.

Despite his extensive football knowledge, Kirkland noted, he could not even coach a high school football team without his college degree.

The former All-Pro linebacker established four objectives for the Edisto students: have a belief in yourself no matter what the circumstances, have a vision for the future, have a plan and, most importantly, put in the work.

He told the group of about 20 students that they had the same potential to accomplish great things like he did.

“The question is are you going to bring that potential out?” he asked the students.

Aspiring lawyer and Edisto freshman Ericka Monroe said she was inspired by Kirkland’s words.

“I think it was great. He told us what we need to do for our future,”

Monroe said.

Kirkland emphasized the enormous amount of work he had to put forth just to be successful at the college football level.

He said not much was expected of him even after he received a football scholarship. He was red-shirted his freshman year at Clemson and watched his teammates from the sidelines. Because of his determination, Kirkland became a two time All-American selection before he left Clemson and the 38th overall pick in the NFL draft.

The turnaround for Kirkland came in the ninth grade, Kirkland said, the same grade he was speaking to at Edisto.

If he hadn’t improved his grades as a freshman, he may never have gotten the chance to play pro football, Kirkland said.

He said his dad was a strict disciplinarian and was less than pleased with his low grades at the time. Because of this, Kirkland’s father would not allow him to run track or play basketball. He did allow him to play junior varsity football, but only if Kirkland kept his grades up.

“It taught me that if I wanted to really do something, I had to get my priorities straight,” Kirkland said.

He encouraged the Edisto students to work hard on getting good grades to obtain the grade point average that attracts colleges. Seeking the advice and counsel from those surrounding them is vital as well, he told the students.

“Give it your all. It’s your time right now to make sure you do that,”

Kirkland said. “When I get older, I want to see one of you doing something great.”

By ADAM FISHER

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

While starting his non-profit Game Plan Foundation, which assists retired NFL players, Leonard Marshall made a startling discovery:

Despite making millions of dollars in the league, some of the former players, Marshall found, are functionally illiterate.

The Game Plan Foundation seeks to provide financial, medical and psychological support to retired players, but Marshall, who played in the NFL for 12 years, has started another organization to try to stop those problems before they start. The Marshall Levenson Literacy Foundation was established to educate underprivileged children to help them become doctors, lawyers, even football players.

Wednesday, he brought that message to third-, fourth-, and fifth- graders at Community School, inspiring the students to make something of themselves through their educational opportunities. He even had the chance to wow the children with stories from his playing days with the New York Giants and his two Super Bowl championships.

“There’s a disconnect,” said Marshall, 46, who retired after the 1994 season. “Guys go to college to play football … half of them have no education when they leave. Then less than one percent are successful in the NFL. You need to take care of yourself to make sure you can go get a job when you get out of sports.”

Marshall’s message was one of motivation. His literacy foundation is aimed at children who don’t have the opportunities that Community School students have to get a good education. Since his audience already is getting an education, Marshall urged the kids to set goals and reach high.

“Play the next play,” the former defensive lineman told them.

“Every time you try something, even if you fail, don’t be afraid to try again,” Marshall went on. “When an athlete gets beat on a play, he comes back and plays the next play. You’ve got to be able to move forward.”

Marshall played 10 seasons for the New York Giants where he won rings in Super Bowls XXI and XXV. He finished his career with 83 1/2 sacks in

177 games, including 15 1/2 in the 1985 season.

Upon retiring, Marshall got involved with several charitable organizations. He is a past winner of the United Way Lifetime Achievement Award. Marshall currently is vice president of philanthropic development for Seeman Holtz Financial Group in Boca Raton, and is on the faculty at Seton Hall University as a sports management lecturer.

As a co-founder of the Marshall Levenson Literacy Foundation, Karen Schoen said there’s no one better to help inspire and teach children than Marshall. The former pro, who has a bachelor’s degree in finance from Louisiana State University, was pushed by his father to pursue academics before athletics.

“I love to work with Leonard because he is absolutely dedicated to education,” Schoen said. “He wouldn’t be where he is today without it.”

Marshall’s mission with the Game Plan Foundation is similar to that for the newly-formed Academy for Athletes. The Naples-based organization also provides assistance and education to retired professional athletes in need.

Both the academy and Marshall’s foundation are part of a recent NFL initiative to improve the quality of life for former players, particularly those who were out of the league before the era of free agency and multi-million dollar contracts.

Marshall is part of an alliance of former players who, along with NFL commissioner Roger Goodell and Players Association leader Gene Upshaw, are investigating ways to make sure no more retirees end up like Andre Waters.

Waters played defensive back in the NFL for a decade. After retiring, Waters was ravaged with physical and mental problems, which eventually led to him committing suicide in late 2006.

“We’re trying these guys have a chance to succeed … so their families and themselves can live a positive life,” Marshall said.

“We’ve got to come up with a better game plan to help these guys deal with life issues. I’m trying to help them help themselves.”

Date: Thu, 6 Mar 2008 14:55:53

To:”M.E. Davis”

Subject: Re: Dave Pear

Dear Tony,

 Thanks for the support.

Sincerely,

Dave & Heidi Pear

web site; davepear.com

On Thu, Mar 6, 2008 at 2:47 PM, M.E. Davis wrote:

Mr. Anillo,

 Noticed that I addressed you in a respectful manner. This

 is the manner I was taught by my parents. This statement from you, to my

fellow NFL Retiree, Dave Pear, does not display the same respect nor class.

 “We can only explain this to you; we cannot make you understand it.”

Very truly yours,

Alvaro 1. Anillo

cc: Roger Goodell

      Gene Upshaw

   Let me suggest to you that the accomplishments of Mr. Pear, in the

 professional arena of the NFL earned him a respect among those who played

 with him and against him that you need to follow.  Your condescending

 statement reveals you as the type of person who needs to be taught the

 meaning of respect. This man has paid for his efforts on the field with the

 kind of health that you should pray never comes to you. This condition was

 caused on the NFL football field. If you have not already done it, may I

 suggest you apologize to Mr. Pear. You and your firms handling of his

 information search borders on illegal but it is damn sure immoral. Crazy

 thing this business, the Union that represents us hires you to fight

 us…..What  goes around will come around…

 Tony Davis

 NFL Retiree

Former players living on streets

Lowell Ullrich

The (Vancouver) Province

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Don Taylor knows how much he could help former CFL players just with the interest accrued from an estimated $11 million in unclaimed pension funds.

The reminder comes every time he is called to pick up a retired veteran down on his luck off the streets.

“I get this all the time,” said the head of the B.C. Lions Alumni Association.

“Joe Blow is living on the street. He doesn’t have any money. I don’t know anything about drug addiction. But we feel obligated.”

It is that same sense of obligation that has prompted Taylor to begin working with lawyers to lobby the federal government for changes to pension-fund regulations that would allow access to the interest paid on unclaimed accounts.

The goal, he said, is to create a national dire-needs fund that would enable groups like the CFL Players Association to provide financial assistance for needy retired players and their families.

A running back from 1978-84 with the Lions, Taylor is one of thousands of former players who successfully have used their connections for a move into business after football.

But he is also familiar with the despair of players who need post- career assistance, which is provided by neither the league nor the union.

The lack of support could perhaps be cited in at least two cases involving prominent ex-players that have had tragic consequences.

In 2005, David Boone (Lions/Eskimos 1975-83) was found dead outside his home in Point Roberts, a victim of suicide. Another story that surfaced last year came when Milson Jones (Bombers/Eskimos 1982-87) was discovered living briefly under a bridge in Winnipeg.

Though careful to guard their privacy, Taylor suggested there are similar sad stories of CFL players in the Lower Mainland.

“It’s tragic for the league. It honestly shouldn’t happen,” said Taylor, a West Vancouver investment banker.

“I don’t think it’s in the league’s best interest to have players shooting themselves or living under a bridge because they have no money. There should be a catching net.”

The problem, according to another retired veteran, is that too few players saw the need for long-term financial planning during their CFL days.

“Ten per cent planned for retirement and the other 90 per cent scrambled around,” said ex-B.C. offensive lineman Gerald Roper, who bought into a Vancouver travel agency as a player and remains involved with the Lions alumni.

Roper has made trips with Taylor to pick up former greats off the street, and is saddened on every occasion.

“Absolutely, it’s hard to stomach what goes on, but it’s no different than in any walk of life. Because it’s football, we notice. [The alumni] has accumulated a bit of money to help send [players] to rehab but sometimes you first have to admit you have a problem.”

The CFL also continues to operate without a drug-testing policy, with the union suggesting it is agreeable but only if owners agree to finance employee-assistance and rehabilitation programs.

“Players are pretty proud,” Taylor said. “Unfortunately there’s a lot of people who need help. There’s no resources when a player finishes his career.

“Some are prepared. Some go into a very difficult transition period where they can’t find the right job and don’t have the right skills.

Then it becomes a spiral and they do some silly things.”

Another avenue explored by the alumni leader has been to lobby league governors seeking to add an amendment to the standard CFL contract that would enable unclaimed interest to be paid into a dire-needs fund after three years if a player cannot be located.

It may, however, require a governor or two to make a late-night run with a couple of ex-Lions to hammer home the message.

lullrich@png.canwest.com