In Pennsylvania: Trying to Make Football Injury-Free

The sun has just dropped behind the Pocono Mountains, its afterglow silhouetting plain wooden bleachers rapidly filling with fans. The Palmerton, Pa., high school band struts along the end zone, then turns smartly down the visiting team's sideline toward a roped-off section behind their players' bench. On the near side of the field, the band for Pleasant Valley High is already in place, alternating Sousa with the theme from Rocky, while cheerleaders flash blue and white pompoms. Five candidates for Pleasant Valley Homecoming Queen wait with feigned casualness in a special section, shyly grinning escorts at their sides. Just as it should be, the smell of burning leaves hangs in the cool air.

It is a perfect night for football. These are archrivals, the Palmerton Blue Bombers vs. the Pleasant Valley Bears, and they are contending before a homecoming crowd. At the kickoff the ball sails up, disappears in the darkness beyond the reach of the lights, then drops suddenly into view. A Palmerton deep back streaks to it, and is promptly buried under a swarm of blue jerseys.

The game's opening quarter is a mishmash of mistakes. The two teams play Alphonse and Gaston with turnovers, swapping fumbles and interceptions four times. Finally, Palmerton settles down and scores. Pleasant Valley's head coach, Tony Caracio, paces the sideline, trailing assistant coaches in his wake as he wigwags signals to his defensive unit. Pleasant Valley fans sit in miserable silence. At times the only sound is the popping of shoulder pads and the grunt of linemen.

But a tall, gray-haired man in rimless glasses standing by the Pleasant Valley bench smiles happily. He is Hugo Verbruggen, M.D., Ph.D., fellow of the American College of Surgeons and of the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons, a distinguished doctor who acts as team physician to the Bears because his son once Clayed football with them. Dr. Verbruggen sees the game of football from a slightly different perspective. "It rained a few days ago," he remarks. "The field has dried out enough for good footing, but the ground is still nice and soft. You don't get as many injuries in these conditions."

If Verbruggen is proved right, that will make the game unusual, if not here, at least in the U.S. in general. Injuries-the annual toll of broken bones, torn ligaments, concussion and, occasionally, paralysis or death-are football's current shame. This fall, a million high school boys will be injured playing football. Most will suffer minor muscle pulls; others will walk the rest of their lives on aching knees. A few will die. While Pleasant Valley and Palmerton are playing in Pennsylvania, a 16-year-old boy in Oklahoma dies of head injuries en route to the hospital during halftime. If anything, the damage is worse in college and pro ball. Before this season ends, 70,000 players from 900 colleges will be injured. And in the National Football League the official injury rate is 100%.