Believe: My Faith and the Tackle That Changed My Life by Eric Legrand & Mike Yorkey

Author:Eric Legrand & Mike Yorkey [Legrand, Eric & Yorkey, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Life, Football, Sports & Recreation, Sports, Religion, Inspirational, Biography & Autobiography
ISBN: 9780062226303
Publisher: Harper Collins, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-25T00:00:00+00:00

What Was Going On?

Sometimes people who have been put in incredibly stressful situations—such as major trauma—will say they felt a sense of peace during the moment of the injury. They’ll describe how everything slowed down, allowing them time to grasp their new reality with greater clarity.

But I wasn’t feeling any sense of peace. I was in a fight for my life. I feared the worst, that this might have been my time to leave this earth, and I fought to hold on to the next minute, the next breath.

I heard Coach Schiano’s voice. “Slow down,” he said, “Slow everything down. You’re going to be fine, but just keep on praying.”

I didn’t pray, not right then. I was too busy trying to breathe. A few moments later, however, I did think to ask: God, what is going on?

It seemed like a logical question. Even though I hadn’t gone to church much growing up, I certainly believed in God and his Son, Jesus Christ. This seemed like one of those foxhole moments to ask a question like that, but I didn’t get an answer. So I prayed some more. My mind pleaded with the Almighty that I would be all right.

God, please let me catch my breath.

God, please let me get up.

God, please let me move.

God, what is going on?

Six or seven emergency personnel took a few moments to gingerly lift me atop the backboard and securely fasten me. Then our director of player services, Mike Kuzniak, unfastened the face mask attached to my helmet. Kuz removed the T-nuts and screws in record time.

Next, the Rutgers team physician, Dr. Robert Monaco, gave me a shot, jabbing my leg with a syringe. The medicine was supposed to reduce the initial inflammation and boost my chances of overcoming a spinal cord injury, but it had to be administered within five to ten minutes of the injury.

Once the responders were satisfied that I was stable and immobilized—which included taping my helmeted head to the backboard—eight or nine men lifted me up and placed me on the bed of the EMS cart. The act of lifting me off the ground gave me a gasp of much-needed air.

But just a gasp. I did feel a little better, but that was momentary. I started panting in an attempt to draw enough air into my lungs.

As the driver swung the cart around to take me off the field, I heard the public address announcer say, “Eric LeGrand.”

Thousands of fans clapped respectfully. Because of the subdued, polite applause, I desperately wanted to give the crowd a thumbs-up from my prone position on the cart—to let them know I would be all right. That should be simple enough—raising my hand with thumb extended into the air.

But I couldn’t move any of my fingers. It felt like there was a thousand pounds holding my thumb down. As I lay on the backboard, I wanted to look at my right hand, thinking that if I could somehow see my fingers, then my hand would move the thumb on my command.

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