Paul Dehner Jr.

pdehnerjr@enquirer.com

The home locker room buzzes like a beehive.

In the hectic aftermath of the Bengals’ 16-12 defeat against Buffalo this past Sunday, pockets of activity meld into each other. Adam Jones yells his thoughts on a play across to Karlos Dansby. Loud conversations echo out of the shower room into the vast open space. Equipment managers swoop through pushing laundry carts. Reporters, cameras and producers dart from one interview huddle to another.

Amid the chaos, Giovani Bernard looks almost frozen in time. The typically jovial, fourth-year running back sits at his stool, facing in at the locker, head down.

One reporter considers a step toward Bernard. He stops. This looks different.

A small crowd of concerned players stops by, circle behind him. Another staff member arrives to show him a text message.

He’s torn his ACL. The 5-9, 202-pound running back earned a contract extension this offseason thanks to a burst, power and cutting ability rare even by standards of a league where rare ability registers as the default setting.

The primary weapon which fuels his business, competitiveness and physical value among treasured teammates was ripped away.

Once chaos calms and the room starts to empty only player relations director Eric Ball remains next to Bernard. This is not the first time he sat in one of these stools with a player moments removed from a devastating injury. It won’t be the last.

In some ways, Ball’s job exists for these moments. He’s there as an informative wave of crisis control. He’s there as a friend. He’s there to offer perspective. He’s there as part of the club’s multi-pronged, methodical approach to handling the trauma of season or career-altering injuries.

Mostly, however, he’s there to listen.

“Be there,” Ball says. “Let guys just talk it out. Because you sit there and think about your future and you don’t know. All kinds of fear sets in.”

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Bernard should turn out fine. He’s been down this road before, tearing the ACL in his other knee while at the University of North Carolina. He knows what comes next — as unpleasant as next might be.

But for those like Ball, head athletic trainer Paul Sparling, team physician Dr. Marc Galloway and the layers of staff in the business of healing players, an important portion of their job revolves around dealing with the shocking mental and physical anguish that unfolds in the immediate aftermath. They must carefully navigate the short period of time when a major injury happens on the field and when the player comes to terms with the rehab process.

Might not always sound like the most important role in the big picture of an NFL team. That is until a player finds themselves in the frightening situation.

“You are upset, you are disappointed and you start thinking about the future,” said left guard Clint Boling, who tore his ACL at San Diego in 2013. “There is no way to prepare for that.”

‘YOU HAVE TO KNOW HOW THEY THINK’

The scene of Carolina Panthers All-Pro linebacker Luke Kuechly in tears on the back of a cart during Thursday Night Football illustrated the latest scary, human element of this warrior sport. A second concussion in two years summoned fearful emotions in the St. Xavier High School product.

Last year for Baltimore, Steve Smith Sr. felt his Achilles pop. Already planning on this being his final season at age 36, he instantly thought the game he loved would end in a heap of pain and tears.

He threw a towel over his head being helped off the field so the world wouldn’t have a window to his grief.

“Anytime you get an injury you feel like that injury, at that moment, is the worst thing ever,” said Smith, who worked his way back and will face the Bengals on Sunday. “I covered my face because you know with social media, and memes, I wasn’t going be, wasn’t going to do that. And also, too, my kids were at the game.”

These scenes and circumstances play out weekly across the league. Few in higher volume than this past Sunday at Paul Brown Stadium. Sparling compared the volume of starters suffering a potentially serious injury to Bengals games in the 1990s. A.J. Green, Dre Kirkpatrick, Clark Harris, Shawn Williams, Bernard all went down.

While every player goes through the same steps and protocol when treated on the field, personal relationships with the athletes and understanding of their psyche go a long way to handling these traumatic moments.

“You have to know how they think,” said Sparling, with 37 years of experience in athletic training in the NFL and with Cincinnati since 1992. “I think so much of what I do and what the other trainers and doctors as well, you have to be a people person, you have to know how to communicate and be a great listener. You have to have empathy. You have to anticipate what could the player be thinking.”

When sprawled out on the turf the player often thinks about avoiding the cart. A negative stigma attaches to being unable to walk off. Once going through the cursory exam and figuring out the ailment, the decision of how to exit must be established. Sparling has seen a tough guy lineman convince himself he could walk and announce “I can feel the bones crunching.” Nobody knew if the jovial personality was joking or serious. He ended up with a fractured ankle. Those moments inevitably can happen but are avoided at all costs.

He’s seen another player tear his ACL and finish the entire game, then sit on the training table postgame in complete denial.

Others find a calm in the trauma. Tyler Eifert recalls the ugly moment of dislocating his elbow in Baltimore as some of the worst pain in his life. But there were no tears or towels thrown over the head. That doesn’t make him weaker or stronger, only different. Calm and cool define him in the huddle and also in pain.

“I wasn’t dying, you will be OK,” Eifert said. “After that people were like, ‘How did you handle it so well?’ But there is nothing you can do. You can pout about it and go down in the dumps and be sad and depressed, but it already happened. you might as well just move forward.”

Once the diagnosis comes back, Sparling and Dr. Galloway implement a clear, singular philosophy on delivering the news and helping players move forward: zero sugar-coating. Trust stands as one of the most vital ingredients to a successful recovery and they establish it from the moment the severity is revealed.

“It is what it is and I think they can start the grieving process sooner if you are accurate, upfront and honest,” Sparling said. “And give them a real perspective. If it’s not good, you need to be frank about it. If you are not sure, you need to be honest about it.”

‘IT’S THOSE LITTLE, INTANGIBLE THINGS’

When rattling off the most important elements to flipping a player from injury to comfortably moving forward, Bengals head coach Marvin Lewis opens with the importance of support.

“First off, everybody reaching out and tell them you love them and wish them just the best of luck,” Marvin Lewis said of how the process starts.

Embracing the frustration can be as much a part of the recovery as a surgery.

“I tell a guy when he has a significant injury like that, a season-ending or season-altering injury, take 24 hours to pout and to mourn and to cry and be angry and whatever processes of grief you have to go through,” Sparling said. “After that, we are going to focus forward. Focus on recovery.”

In some cases, the reality doesn’t hit until after the initial 24 hours. Andy Dalton caught a wave of helplessness with his thumb injury last year once the dust settled.

“I feel like it doesn’t hit you right away,” said Dalton, who missed the final four games and playoff loss to Pittsburgh last year with a fractured thumb. “It’s, OK, I’m not going in this week but you have to go through meetings with no chance of playing. That’s that part where you know you really can’t do anything about this. I tried to stay as positive as I could with it because if not you are just going to kill yourself.”

Negativity can take over. Agents, friends or family will start weighing in about getting second opinions or injecting ideas of alternative methods to recovery. The club welcomes and encourages any second opinions sought. Really, whatever provides a level of comfort.

In the same vein, Sparling doesn’t hesitate to call in the team psychologist or an outside specialist to lend professional mental help, if necessary.

In a world where everyone reacts differently, all options must stay readily available.

Often the best professional is a teammate. Sparling recalls asking Mohamed Sanu to counsel Marvin Jones in 2014 when the receiver came down with the same injury to the fifth metatarsal in the foot as Sanu sustained early in his career.

“You will be amazed how often times that give them peace, calm, saying hey, he made it, I can make it,” Sparling said. “It’s just those little, intangible things.”

Or, in moments like the emotional aftermath with Ball and Bernard, peace resides in someone being there to listen.

“It’s hard, it really is,” Ball said. “But you start pointing out, (Adrian Peterson) is going through it, AP is just now getting back. Brought up Willis McGahee. Saying, hey man, it happens. Unfortunately, it does. Right now, if it turns out to be what it is we will go day by day.”

Getting through Day 1 can be the toughest.