The Wolverine: Covering University of Michigan Football and Sports
Issue link: http://read.uberflip.com/i/1169070
OCTOBER 2019 THE WOLVERINE 41 tion: If I don't cut my man (by driving his shoulder into his man's legs to take him off his feet), he's going to cut me. It was a very explicit, very specific, and very clear phrase in my head. I'd never had that before." When Wisconsin's cornerback saw that Newsome was staying on his feet in- stead of cutting him, he went low, driv- ing the full weight of his body straight into Newsome's right knee, with a force so great it shoved Newsome's knee backward until his thighbone and shin made a 60-degree angle — in the wrong direction. Newsome crumpled to the ground, landing on his stomach. "But it was kind of weird: I didn't feel any pain. None at all — though maybe I just went into shock." When they performed the initial tests on the field Newsome's knee seemed relatively stable, but that was due to the massive swelling. When Harbaugh came over Newsome said, "'I should've cut him.' And coach was like, 'Yeahhh, you probably should have.' It was funny at the time, because no one even imagined the severity. "I was already doing the math. I'd be out for Rutgers the next week, but then we had a bye, Illinois, and Michigan State four weeks away. If I could get back for State, not so bad." The doctors asked if he felt any numb- ness or tingling in his toes. Newsome replied, "Yeah, but that's probably nor- mal, right?" The doctors looked at each other, then found that the pulse in his right foot was not as strong as the one in his left. "We're taking you to the hospital. It's probably nothing, but we want to be safe." THE TEAM DOCTORS called ahead to ask the hospital staff to prepare to run an X-ray and a series of tests in minutes. After the tests a vascular surgeon, Matt Corriere, told Newsome, "We need to put you into surgery." "Am I going to have my leg coming out of surgery?" Newsome asked. "We're going to try our best." "I was shocked," Newsome recalled. "Never imagined anything like that." "That was a long night, maybe the longest of my life," Leon Newsome con- fessed. "Finally the doctor came out and said they did everything they could, and thought his leg would be okay, but the next 24 to 48 hours would tell. It was hard to even think about the worst- case scenario." AFTER THE CRISIS had passed, Dr. Cor- riere told Newsome if they had started the first surgery just 15 to 30 minutes later, they would have been forced to perform "a salvage operation," another phrase for amputation. A normal man would probably have counted his blessings, given up the game, and focused on his studies. But Newsome, like so many football play- ers, is not a normal man. He had fallen in love with a game that didn't always love him back. "There's just the sheer physicality of the sport, especially on the offensive line," Newsome explained. "Our job is to displace a man from a spot he does not want to leave. There's something so pure about that. As a player, it's enthralling. There are very few sports where your mission is to knock another man over — and I'm sorry, that's a satis- fying sensation nothing else can really give you. " Then there's the chess game. The game might not look complicated from the stands, but when you're playing of- fensive line you're constantly adjusting to the defense. It's a problem you have to solve on every play. "And there's the unequaled feeling of relying on ten different people. Football is one of the few team sports where one dominant player can't do it alone. Even the quarterback is only as good as his line. What else can give you all that?" For all those reasons, Newsome would work to return against long odds. DURING THIS TRYING time the New- somes met the "silent majority" of fans, not the fringe that often dominates so- cial media. "There are a lot of wonderful, wonder- ful people in the Michigan fan base," Kim said. "The sad part is you don't get the full measure of that until your son is in the hospital. The letters came from everywhere, including from some who never went to Michigan. They weren't asking for anything; they just wanted to show their appreciation and sup- port. And that's the beauty of it: you've got a group of people so united around something for decades, and they mobi- lize when you need them most." "I think how the overall community — the hospital, the coaches, even strang- ers — came to take care of our family was really something," Leon said. "You don't forget those things." AFTER FOUR WEEKS in the hospital Newsome started a painful rehabilita- tion program three hours a day, five or six days a week, just to bend his right leg, then relearn how to stand on two feet, then walk, then jog. A year and a half after his injury he graduated from Michigan in May of 2018 with "High Distinction" in American culture and a minor in African American studies. When camp started that August the media reported Newsome might return that fall, but one week into the two-a- day workouts Newsome could see he might only be able to contribute as a backup — and was that worth the risk? "I'd been grappling with that decision for a long time," Newsome said, "going back and forth between hope and cau- tion. And then it hit me, about 10 days into fall camp. I forget what drill it was, but all of a sudden the message came to me in no uncertain terms: 'I don't have it anymore.' "At that moment I knew I was done — but I couldn't push the button on my phone to call my parents. This was Offensive tackle Grant Newsome was never able to return following the injury he suf- fered against Wisconsin on Oct. 1, 2016, but doctors told him that if the surgery had been performed 15-30 minutes later they would have had to amputate his leg. He eventually returned to the practice field before retiring and serving as a U-M student coach in 2018. PHOTO BY LON HORWEDEL