tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5428824763182540039.post158097151056864572..comments2024-01-17T09:33:57.158-08:00Comments on Brain Rage: This Is Your Brain On FootballJBWhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13293642610215334516noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5428824763182540039.post-30259571265993314222009-01-28T22:16:00.000-08:002009-01-28T22:16:00.000-08:00Thanks for reading, Mahndisa. I love football and...Thanks for reading, Mahndisa. I love football and simultaneously don't feel the need to beat the crap out of other guys. I'd say your momma and mine were both more prescient than they seemed at the time.JBWhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13293642610215334516noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5428824763182540039.post-64093995003973087042009-01-28T16:47:00.000-08:002009-01-28T16:47:00.000-08:0001 28 09Thanks for posting this. I always asked wh...01 28 09<BR/><BR/>Thanks for posting this. I always asked what a concussion was but never got a sound answer. This answers a question all the way from childhood! Whoa!<BR/><BR/>And not playing football in Texas is strange! My parents denied my brother the privilage of playing football because my mother was a strong pacifist at some point. But since my brother is ultra machisimo, this seemed to have scarred him. Every now and then over a few drinks he still might bring it up how it pissed him off so much.<BR/><BR/>I guess you are more independent in your thinking or don't have the need to pulverize other dudes. When I was a little girl, I used to play football with the neighborhood boys. That is until my mother forbade me because she was afraid I would get sterilized by injury or get brain damage.<BR/><BR/>Apparently her fears were somewhat justified!Mahndisa S. Rigmaidenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08507292526980604567noreply@blogger.com