PREP FOOTBALL CONTROVERSY: Protecting kids’ health is no game

Cody Lehe is 18 and lives in the farming community of Brookston, Ind., where he was once captain of his high school football team. He was a versatile enough player to excel at tight end and wide receiver and running back as a sophomore and at lineman and linebacker as a junior and senior.

He took a hit to the head in a state playoff game last year, was pronounced healthy by a certified trainer, experienced headaches a few days later, was given a C-T scan, was cleared again and returned to practice. He told his family that he had endured harder hits and was not about to miss time on the field, that football was his life, that a state championship was too important.

He collapsed at a nonpads practice that week from contact so insignificant, no one recalls the hit. He slipped into a coma for three months and now sits in a wheelchair, working daily to regain his speech and motor skills and any semblance of a memory. His dreams are about living a normal life, not winning state.

"I tell you what," said Cody’s mother, Becky, "it’s a very complicated thing. You are torn apart trying to believe if the child is truly telling you the truth about how he feels. But it’s impossible to know because they want nothing more than to play.

"I do know this: If there is any doubt, any whatsoever that a child might have sustained even the smallest head trauma, he shouldn’t be allowed to play again until everything is cleared up medically.

"And I would have any parent who would question that come to my house and visit my son."

This isn’t first-grade math. It’s not so basic as to simply assign the kind of random fault that has resulted from a Sunrise Region playoff semifinal on Friday, when Canyon Springs quarterback Devonte Christopher wasn’t allowed to return to a game against Del Sol for most of the final two quarters.

He was slammed hard to the ground on a sack early in the third quarter of a game Del Sol would rally in his absence to win, 28-24. Christopher’s head hit first. He stood up and was wobbly. That initial appearance, along with what he heard from a Del Sol trainer who first inspected Christopher, caused referee Chris Bibbins to keep the star player from returning until he received a clearance note from a medical doctor.

This is where everything got a little crazy.

First things first: The fact Christopher was then examined and cleared by a certified trainer from Canyon Springs who once worked at UNLV means nothing. It’s totally irrelevant.

There is a national federation rule that states once a referee judges a player to be unresponsive or apparently unconscious, only a medical doctor can release the athlete back into competition.

You can certainly argue Bibbins was possibly incorrect in his opinion of Christopher’s condition, that the quarterback wasn’t nearly as dinged as the referee determined. But once Bibbins made his initial decision, the rule took effect and any trainer’s recommendation became futile. There is no other process. That’s it.

If you don’t like it, draw up a petition, collect signatures and lobby the national federation for a rules change. As it stands, Bibbins merely followed orders.

"It’s very simple — if we’re going to err, we’ll err on the side of safety," said Marc Ratner, commissioner of the Southern Nevada Officials Association. "No matter if it’s one of the state’s best players like this or one of the worst at the end of the bench. No matter if it’s the first game of a season or a playoff game. (Bibbins) saw what he saw, and I support him one thousand percent. When a kid gets up like that and is wobbly on his legs, that scares us."

It should. For things such as second-impact syndrome, when bleeding to the brain worsens the effects of a previous concussion (undetected or not), when a second hit puts a kid like Cody Lehe in a wheelchair. For memories like those of former Las Vegas High player Ed Gomez, who in 2003 died from a blow to the helmet. For numbers such as 300,000, which is how many prep athletes across the country suffer head injuries annually.

There is no such thing as overreacting in this case. No such thing as being too conservative. Canyon Springs officials are quick to point out Christopher left the field under his own power. So did Cody Lehe a year ago.

Kids like Christopher are taught from a young age the importance of playing hurt, that football is a dangerous and violent game and only the tough survive. But you can’t take his word about his physical well being at that moment. Of course he felt fine. Of course he wanted to play. It’s part of what makes him so incredibly talented.

His mother, Tammy, knows him better than anyone else in the world and gave her blessing for Devonte to return after speaking with him, after looking in his eyes and demanding he be truthful. But you can’t take her word at that moment. It’s just too emotional a decision. You can’t take a coach’s word. You can’t take that of a certified trainer, according to the rules.

What has since become lost in a pathetic but predictable blame game of conspiracy-loaded adults acting like children — was Bibbins too stubborn in his assessment, did the Del Sol trainer exaggerate the player’s symptoms, why did it take so long for the doctor from the Del Sol side to walk over and examine Christopher, isn’t it ironic he was finally allowed to return on a third-and-long with just a few minutes remaining — is the most critical point.

No game is worth being wrong when it comes to possibly risking a kid’s health. Not if the chance is one in a million. A billion. No one wants a playoff game to end this way. It’s bad for prep football, for a superior athlete such as Christopher who has worked tirelessly to put himself in such an admirable position, for his Canyon Springs coaches who prepared so diligently and his teammates who will never play again.

But you know what? Neither will Cody Lehe.

One day, though, with a lot of prayers and luck and hard work, he might walk and talk normally again. He initially got up. Passed some tests. Thought he was fine.

It’s not worth it. Not close to being so.

Ed Graney’s column is published Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. He can be reached at 383-4618 or egraney@reviewjournal.com.