(CNN) — I fell in love on a Monday night. Now, many may say a teenage girl can’t know about such things. But that night as I watched Dallas Cowboys running back Tony Dorsett roll downfield 99 yards for a touchdown, I fell head-over-heals in love with the NFL.
It was January 3, 1983 — Monday Night Football, Dallas vs. Minnesota. I’d never seen anything so inspiring. Dorsett was so free, so graceful and so powerful to me. He was focused and determined. Watching him break free of his competitors, those who wanted to bring him down and stop him from reaching his goal, I was in awe. And I knew then that his run capsulized all that I wanted to accomplish in my life.
That football game is one of my most cherished childhood memories. I have been a passionate NFL fan since that moment — though I switched my loyalties to the Philadelphia Eagles, my hometown team. My family has never understood my love affair with the league. They have balked as play dates, family events, even church services have been rearranged or skipped to fit my football calendar. I ended up spending much of my career in sports journalism, a dream job if ever there was one.
But after 30 years, my love and respect for the game is fading. And I’m seriously considering giving up football completely. I don’t want to, but I am left with little choice. I’ve come to this pass because of a recent airing of “League of Denial, The NFL’s Concussion Crisis,” the PBS documentary that details the hidden story of the NFL and brain injuries.