I'm an unfeeling cur

I'm going to sound like a uncaring cur but, I am what I am. I'm sick of seeing retired football players on television talking about their health issues. Bret Favre is on some show today talking about his memory loss. Tony Dorsett was on last week, weeping as he revealed the serious after effects of his career. They even played sad music during the Dorsett interview. I'm not saying the stories of retired NFL players aren't sad. But guess what, welcome to the real world. Most people in their fifties are having health issues. And guess what again, most people in their fifties with those health issues didn't make enough money in their twenties and thirties to live on for the rest of their lives. My father died because his lungs were eaten up by asbestos that he worked in for thirty years. Where was his pity party? You expect me to feel sorry for athletes who earned millions of dollars playing a game they loved? Professional athletes were blessed with physical gifts that allowed them to make more money in a year than normal folks earn in a lifetime. Trust me, if I could've run a 4.2, I would've been in the NFL and I would gladly live with the consequences. Or, died with them. Nothing is for free. Everything has a price. Millionaire athletes live lives others fantasize about. But, at the end of the day, we all have a price to pay. Their bill doesn't come until they're in their fifties. Some of us pay on a daily basis. Junior Seau committed suicide after his career ended. I know three friends who committed suicide and they never played a down in the NFL. Why should I feel sad for Seau? You want to tug at my heart strings? Give me stories about the 19- and 20-year-old soldiers who died in combat. Tell me about the young fireman who died saving a life. Do a documentary about the young women battling cancer. But, please spare me the sob stories of millionaire athletes who suddenly realize, they're mortal, just like everybody else.