"You'd think he probably regrets that he played in that game. Especially as we scraped him up off the turf," Sugarman said. "But we all know he didn't regret it. That's just him."
Favre is arguably the most celebrated player in NFL history in terms of his willingness to fight through pain to be ready on game day. But he is far from unique. Week after week, in every locker room across the league, players are wired in a way that pushes them to play as often as possible through as much pain as they can tolerate.
Beginning Sunday, the Star Tribune will begin a three-part series examining the lengths that NFL players go to assure their availability on game days. Specifically, the series will put the use of painkilling drugs in the NFL under a microscope.
Lucas' predicament may be on the extreme end. But it's certainly not a shock to players who understand and have lived the NFL culture. Former Vikings fullback Tony Richardson, who was an active member of the NFL Players Association's executive committee in the latter parts of his 17-year career, understands the pressures that players face to play through pain. And he hopes measures can be taken to change things going forward. Richardson thinks back two-and-a-half years to the worst he ever played through. On Jan. 24, 2010, while with the New York Jets, he suited up for the AFC Championship just seven days after, he says, he broke his ribs in a playoff win in San Diego. When he ran, his chest tightened, the pain so sharp it left him breathless. When he sneezed or coughed or grunted, he'd feel paralyzed for a moment. Yet Richardson understood the drill. "Still," he said, "you play." With a week's worth of therapy, consistent doses of painkillers to quell the discomfort and a pre-game painkilling shot of Toradol, Richardson fulfilled his role as the Jets' backfield battering ram. "It was the grace of God that I was able to play in that game," Richardson said. "That was by far the worst pain I ever played through. But everybody's hurt. From the second day of training camp on, everyone's hurt to some extent. You find ways to deal with it. And you play. "That day I took the Toradol shot. Looking back, I probably should have listened to the doctors and trainers. They said numbing my ribs might give me a false sense of security. It could have been dangerous. But I was in so much pain, that's what I wanted to resort to. I had to play." So what's more amazing – that Richardson, never once considered sitting out? That he played an entire championship game with broken ribs? That it didn't seem, in his mind, to be extraordinary in the least? Or that just about every NFL player you run across can share a similar story of suppressing severe pain? Stay tuned for our series on yet another player safety issue that the NFL and the players union are trying to get their arms around ...