Time for Tua to Hang Up the Cleats: for His Own Good

We all have our own opinions about this sensative subject. Should Tua Tagovailoa leave the game of football after suffering his third concussion this past week? Dolphin fans may love this, they may hate it. The truth is, it doesn’t matter. As a fan, a father, a coach, and a human being, it’s time for Tua Tagovailoa to hang up his cleats, put away his helmet, and walk off the field. For good.

Now, before you start sharpening your pitchforks, hear me out. This isn’t coming from a place of wanting to lose a promising player, or seeing the Dolphins tank (although, let’s be honest, we’ve seen some tank-worthy moments). It’s about being responsible and proactive. It’s about protecting a young, dynamic, charismatic athlete from what could be irreversible damage to his future.

And by future, I don’t just mean his career in football. I mean his life. His health. His ability to do simple things like walk, talk, and remember his own name at age 50. Yeah, concussions are that serious.

Concussions Aren’t Just Bumps on the Head

Let’s start with the obvious: concussions are bad news. We’ve all heard the horror stories. Ex-players battling CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy), suffering from memory loss, depression, or worse. Concussions don’t play nice—they sneak up on you, sometimes five, ten, twenty years later, and hit you harder than a blindside sack from a 300-pound linebacker.

And they’re cumulative.

The more concussions you have, the worse the damage becomes. It’s not like a sprained ankle where you can just “walk it off.” Concussions leave lasting damage, and Tua’s had more than his fair share already. It wasn’t even that his concussions came from vicious, illegal hits or cheap shots. One time, he fell backward, hit his head, and that was enough. Another time, he collided headfirst into a Bills player’s chest. Not exactly helmet-to-helmet brutality, but still, the result was the same: concussions.You know what makes the situation even worse? The chilling image of Tua’s fingers seizing up, contorted in ways that would give even the most hardened football fan pause. Medical professionals call that a “fencing response”—it’s a neurological sign that the brain has taken some serious damage. So yes, it’s time. Time for him to stop playing and start focusing on his health, while he still has the chance.

How Did We Get Here?

The Dolphins needed a quarterback, and the hottest guy coming out of college football at the time was Tua. He looked invincible at Alabama. His arm, his legs, his smarts—all NFL-ready. He was the quarterback with the ‘it’ factor. He won a national championship, and when the Dolphins landed him, it felt like Christmas had come early in Miami.

But then things didn’t go as planned. He had a rocky start, an even rockier relationship with the Dolphins’ former coach, Brian Flores, who didn’t seem to get the best out of Tua. To be fair, Tua wasn’t exactly gifted the strongest offensive line in the league. For a smaller QB, you need those big boys up front to block, to protect your blind side like their lives depend on it. That wasn’t always happening.

Then came the concussions. The one that knocked him out, literally. When you see a player hit the turf, semi-conscious, unable to control his own hands, and barely able to take a step before crumbling again, the alarm bells should go off. Loudly. Tua’s body was screaming “ENOUGH!” But did we listen? Not really. Why? Because he got up. He kept playing. And when he was healthy, boy, was he good.

Forgetting the Human Side of Sports

Let’s be real for a second. We, as fans, get caught up in the excitement of the game. The thrill of victory. The agony of defeat. But often, we forget that these are real people on the field. Human beings, not video game avatars. It’s easy to lose sight of that when your quarterback is lighting up the scoreboard, throwing beautiful passes, side-arms, underhanded dimes that make you gasp. And when Tua was doing just that, we all got swept away.

But that was the problem. We forgot just how vulnerable he was—how vulnerable anyone is, even professional athletes built like Greek gods. A torn ACL? Sure, you might recover. A concussion? That's your brain we’re talking about. And there’s no workout, no amount of protein shakes or stretching exercises that can reverse brain damage.

We Forgot Too Quickly (And Too Easily)

Knocked down on the field, lying on his back, Tua Tagovailoa’s right arm extended awkwardly into the air, the fingers on his hand curled in a way that was both alarming and hauntingly unnatural. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was trying to signal something. Maybe some awkward rendition of jazz hands, or worse, some twisted football version of “raise your hand if you’re sure.” But this wasn’t some halftime show accident—this was serious.

That odd gesture is a reflex known as the "fencing position." And while that term may sound like something you’d pick up at a Medieval Times dinner show, it’s a lot less fun in real life. It’s a neurological response that occurs after a significant brain injury. This wasn’t just a random hit; this was the third diagnosed concussion of Tua’s NFL career. Three. And let’s not forget—two of those came back-to-back in 2022.

Now, concussions don’t always lead to someone being knocked out cold. People like to think you’re only concussed if you get your bell rung, see some stars, or wake up to your coach slapping you on the cheek with smelling salts (side note: why did they always slap people back in the day? Like that was supposed to help?). In reality, most people don’t even pass out from a concussion. Some describe seeing all white, all black, or those cartoony twinkling stars, but others don’t even realize they’ve had one until long after the fact.

It’s not like it’s a new discovery either. In 1952, the New England Journal of Medicine published a study on sports injuries (including football), stating that patients who’ve had more than three concussions shouldn’t be exposed to any further “body-contact trauma.” You know, little things like playing professional football. Yet here we are, watching Tua rack up three concussions like he’s collecting Pokémon cards—except no one’s going to trade him a Charizard to make this right.

It’s sad, but it’s true. We’ve all forgotten too quickly. Tua’s out here getting tossed around like a rag doll, and somehow, we all just move on like it’s no big deal. Why? Because once he gets back up and starts throwing dimes downfield, it’s easy to forget that his brain just got sloshed around inside his skull like a maraca.

And let’s not forget which concussion sent Tua into that fencing position. It happened on a Thursday night game against the Buffalo Bills—a prime-time showcase, where the whole country saw Tua’s fingers curl in that eerie way that only medical professionals recognize as a surefire sign of a serious brain injury. Everyone else? We just sat on our couches, munching chips, and waiting for the next play.

But three concussions—two in 2022, and then this third one—that should have been the wake-up call. Yet we were all too eager to forget. Because as long as he’s healthy enough to throw a 60-yard bomb, all those concussions might as well be old news, right?