Players in football are required to memorize 100s of different plays, formations, and rules. Players have been known to lift 400-600 pounds (Incase you don't know that is A LOT) and have been known to run a 4.13 in the 40 (Which is EXTREMELY Fast) with a vertical jump of "43 (Which is AMAZINGLY impressive)
"You're an offensive lineman and it's late in the game.
You're mentally tired. Sweat, snot and spit drips off your face as you look down to see your hand still shaking from when you crushed it in the first quarter. There is probably some nerve damage. Your knees ache, your back hurts so bad it's hard to stand up straight. You wince and feel a burning sensation. Your vision is blurred due to a cut on your forehead from your last collision with some alcoholic 6'5" 320lb War-Daddy running a 4.8, benching 500, and cleaning 401 at 17% body fat who has an outstanding warrant for his arrest, beats his girlfriend regularly and just insulted your mom with words you couldn't understand. His only instructions were to "Get to the ball, and be in a bad mood when you get there!!"
Now that just happened two plays ago and when you lined up for the next play you were still dizzy from what could probably be diagnosed as a minor concussion. But this is football and anything with "minor" attached to it just doesn't count. Now in the outside world you would probably miss a week of work and file some insurance claim, but here in your world you've got to suck it up for the next play. You're dizzy, can't get your balance, you barely hear the play, can't see, can't really hear the quarterback because of the 80,000 screaming fans, and then before you know it your man sacks the quarterback, takes off his helmet calls you a bitch while doing a dance.
Now the coach calls a timeout and you run over to the sidelines as your teammates yell "Come on! Get it together man!" The fans boo you relentlessly because they didn't drive 3hrs on a Saturday to see you blow the game because of a little headache. You barely make it over to the sideline because you're still dizzy and here comes your "motivational" speech from some wide-eyed 5'8" 280 lb redneck with a wad of chew in his mouth. "What in the heeelllll was that?! Get your ass down, your hands up and punch his @#$!. Didn't you hear the `River call?! They were in a 50 package with a weak side blitz. You know you've got to slide right you big dumb @#$!*! You made a commitment to this team!! Where is your pride son?!! People are counting on you! On YOU!! How can you call yourself an athlete and take that abuse in front of all these people and millions at home? God-bless son, what do your parents think? Get your head in the game!! If you don't want to play, hell, I got three freshman over there that will play for your fat ass!! I'll suit up someone from the stands before I watch you do that crap again!! I'd rather have my little sister out there giving 100% than watch you half-ass it out there because you're tired and you don't want to give the effort. Now get out there and do your job boy!"
So now you get in the huddle and here comes the quarterback with the call: "Larry Left, 90 XY out on Two, on Two. Ready ....BREAK!!
So here's what goes through your head: "90...90....What is 90? That's a 7 step drop. He needs lots of time. Damn my hand hurts! Larry Left. OK, I've got the tight-end on my side so the 7 technique will be wide. The Mike is right and I'm uncovered, so I've got the Sam to the end to the Corner. Easy. Oh crap, they eagled down and War-Daddy is lined up with me, and I don't have help because the other guard has a two technique and the center is uncovered and he has to slide. Better go from a two point stance, this guy is quick."
"Ready set, Black 280.....Black 280....Hut!! Hut!!.
He engages. You get a good punch. He counters with an inside rip. You open your hip, lock out your right hand and smash his @#$!* into the ground and kick him for emphasis. You look up and the Mike came on a delayed blitz and the center got tangled up with the two technique so it's between you and the Mike, between you and the quarterback getting the ball to the open receiver, between you and victory. You lunge, get a piece of his knee with your already smashed hand. You probably just broke it. It's not pretty, but you get enough of him. The ball is released and . . . Touchdown!!
After the win you sit in a pool of blood, dirt, sweat, snot, and someone else's blood. You smell like you slept in a garbage can. You sit there with 2 ice packs on each shoulder and an ice pack on your neck and one on your hand which is still throbbing. You have to get a trainer to cut the inches of tape and equipment and special padding you use to get your body ready for the game because you are simply too tired to move. As he works the tape off you vaguely hear him talking about how great the game was and how you're the man. He asks what you're doing after the game. You mumble, "I'm not sure, thanks man", and hobble off the table. The shower feels good but it stings like hell because of all the open cuts. You use shampoo instead of soap because it's easier to lather up. After a game it is so hard to do even the most minute things. You've just given 100%. People usually never push their body that far."