The days got darker when training camps opened. Andra Davis, 36, a former Broncos linebacker who played 10 seasons in the NFL, retired in 2012, leaving him with a life he expected to be easy and free of the cutthroat world he had inhabited so long. But the honeymoon period was short-lived.

As football started up without him, just 5 miles from his home in Centennial, he found himself alone in his basement, the lights off and his mind racing, thinking about all the things he didn’t accomplish in the NFL and the life he no longer had.

He wasn’t broke. He wasn’t alone. He had a loving family — his wife and three daughters were never far from his side. But depression does not discern family or fortune.

“He had been doing it ever since he was 6 years old, he reached the pinnacle of his career, and then it was over,” said his wife, Monique Davis. “He was grieving.”

Davis’ career didn’t end on his terms, but it rarely does for NFL players, even the greats such as Peyton Manning. The NFL Players Association says the average career in the league is just more than three years.

And the end can be jarring.

For many, losing football means losing not just a job and a paycheck, but an identity.

“When you’re playing, everybody loves you, everyone calls you, you’re the savior, the next best thing,” Andra Davis said. “Then when you’re done it’s like, ‘Who are you?’ The party’s over. The lights in the stadium are off.”

Hiding the pain

From early on, Davis, like most football players, had been programmed to shield the severity of his injuries.

“We’re programmed all our career to be like, ‘Man, I’m fine,’ because you know there are guys younger, faster, stronger behind you ready to take your spot,” he said. “They have all kinds of drugs to numb the pain, so you find a way to get through.”

The notion of invincibility is often both a necessity and a crutch — until the game film exposes weaknesses you no longer can hide.

Chris Kuper, 32, a former Broncos offensive lineman, retired in 2014 after eight seasons and a string of injuries. His body couldn’t take the beating anymore. But his mind was eager for more.

“I definitely would not have (retired) if not for the injuries,” Kuper said. “I felt like I had a good four or five more years left.”

Surgery to repair a herniated disk in August 2011 ended the seven-year career of former tight end Bo Scaife, a Denver native.

“I wasn’t looking forward to retirement. Nor did I get to retire on my own terms,” said Scaife, 34. “But I felt football wasn’t giving me what I needed anymore. I loved the game, but you’re an employee. You can only do so much.”

Davis never imagined life after football, even though he had seen the revolving door of players during his stops with Cleveland, Denver and Buffalo and how one hit, one play, can often end a career.

Drafted by the Browns in the fifth round in 2002, Davis suffered a torn labrum in his first game as a Bill, in 2010, and that was the beginning of the end.

“I go back and look at film in the latter part of my career and I’m like, ‘Man, I wouldn’t pick me up,’ ” he said. “I’m a realist.”

He slogged through two more seasons, playing his final game Jan. 1, 2012. And when that game ended, so did the calls from teammates.

“I think that’s the hardest part for guys, is how sudden it is,” Kuper said. “Besides the league kind of being done with you, the team being done with you, your friends that you saw every day in the locker room — they’ve got a job to do and you’re just kind of sitting around.”

Physical and psychological

Not everything comes to a halt when the final whistle blows. Implicit in retirement is continued pain.

Kuper never fully recovered from an ankle injury he twice had surgically repaired. When he left the game, weight melted off, putting less pressure on his joints.

Scaife’s injuries are still felt.

“Your body gets worse over time,” he said. “But I wouldn’t trade playing for that.”

Headaches still are frequent for Davis. The constant neck pain? Arthritis. Won’t go away, his doctors told him. The shoulder tear that ended his career still gives him problems. He recently underwent surgery on his right big toe. His left hip has been repaired. And last month, he had surgery to repair his right hip.

The pain coupled with the loneliness led to a depression so deep that Davis almost ended it all.

“I’ve had a pistol in my hand,” he said. “It wasn’t because of finances. It wasn’t because I didn’t have anyone there to love and support me. I didn’t know what was going on. I had headaches, my body hurt. I felt like nobody cared about me. I was like, ‘Man, I don’t really care if I’m here or not.’ “

It wasn’t until late 2012, when he saw his wife break down during a visit with a psychiatrist, that he came to grips with the severity of his depression. The two later went on a fast for Lent that provided Andra structure and renewed faith, and helped lift the dark cloud that had enveloped him.

Finances and planning

For the first three years of his career, Davis was broke. He entered the league more than $100,000 in debt after burning through his signing bonus. He bought the Louis Vuitton luggage and the brand new Lincoln Navigator, all with the belief that he would pay it off with his next check.

“I didn’t realize that you got paid only 17 weeks,” he said. “Nobody told us that. Never told us about taxes in every city.”

Davis played it smarter when the paychecks got bigger. When he received a five-year contract extension with the Browns in 2005, his financial adviser urged him to put $100,000 a year for five years into a life insurance policy, a drop in the bucket that would ultimately save him in retirement.

“I used to hate writing that check, but once I retired, we decided to cash the life insurance policy, take the money out, pay off everything we owed and get a smaller life insurance policy,” Davis said. “Decisions like that allowed us to not have the extra pressure. If I can get that across to anybody in the league — when you’re done, eliminate all the pressures because life is hard enough as it is.”

Many players lack basic financial skills necessary to manage a six figure-plus paychecks.

The Broncos hold regular meetings — some individual, some teamwide — about planning for a career after football. The players union has representatives visit teams five to seven times a year to inform players of available programs. But often the most basic things are overlooked. And the focus for active players is and may always be football.

“I think some of the stuff needs to be mandatory as far as basics of finance, whether it’s filing your taxes, putting together a résumé — that’s an important thing,” Kuper said.

When players retire, they aren’t handed a road map to help navigate the myriad resources available to them. The NFLPA’s Players Trust was established in 2013 to provide educational, career, medical and networking resources to retired players. But there are multiple other organizations — with the league, with the union and independent of both — like it, many of which players are unaware exist.

Davis, who went back to school in retirement to receive his MBA, relied on the advice of former players to find his way. The shared lessons also helped to rebuild a social network that was torn down in retirement.

“Being able to speak to other guys about the transition and what they’re doing, it was so therapeutic for me,” said Scaife, who also received his MBA after retiring and has since launched a leadership and apparel company, Fresh Ed. Life.

Starting anew

Before the start of training camp this past summer, Davis boxed up the football memorabilia sprinkled around his home office. The framed jerseys signed by fellow players were hung in the basement, not far from the trophies and commemorative footballs arranged on a bookcase.

“I come down here and look around and think about where I came from, the small town, and to see all the people,” Davis said. “It’s the journey. Everyone has the same journey, but different paths.”

The journey to retirement is rarely smooth. Davis left the game in a better position than most: financially stable, and with a family that rode the roller coaster of the NFL with him, even when it stopped.

Kuper did too, recently welcoming his third child and working as a managing partner with Black Lab Sports, a startup in Boulder that invests in sports technology.Kuper also coaches at Columbine High School and is a part-investor in a D1 Sports training facility in Highlands Ranch.

“I miss playing all the time,” Kuper said. “There’s nothing that can replace that feeling before the game or when you’re jogging out for the first play.”

Davis often speaks at local schools as part of All Roads Open, his faith-based organization that provides educational and mentorship programs to students and families. He is grateful he got to fulfill his dream of playing in the NFL.

“I’d do it all over again, knowing the exact same thing,” he said.

But every summer, when camps open and the Broncos take the field not far from his home, he is reminded of what was. And how his life changed when the cheers quieted.

“As long as you play, there’s going to come a day when you’re not their guy, you’ll get older, you’ll lose a step,” he said. “Adjusting to that and life after football are two of the hardest things about football.”

Nicki Jhabvala: njhabvala@denverpost.com or @NickiJhabvala

Help in NFL retirement

Some of the many organizations and programs available to players in retirement to help them transition to life without football:

Established by the Professional Athletes Association in 1992 to provide emergency financial assistance to retired players and help them finish their undergraduate degrees.

The Players Trust

Created in 2013 with funding set aside during 2011 collective bargaining talks. Offers medical, educational, career, lifestyle and social resources to players with two or more credited seasons.

Provides medical and financial assistance to members with Alzheimer’s and ALS.

Independent organization established in 2007 to provide financial, medical, emotional and social assistance.

A nonprofit organization that provides financial grants and medical help to former players.

Offers counseling and second-career training to active and retired players.

A nonprofit comprised of former players, coaches and other employees that provides medical, financial and community involvement programs to paying members.

Conventions held regularly across the country for networking and personal development.