Kirton Passing Harsh Reminder That AFL Still Just a Game

Adam Markowitz
Tuesday May 29, 2012

On Tuesday afternoon, I sat in my office stunned at the news that I got from a few different people on my phone at almost the same time. Johnie Kirton had died. Any time that you hear about someone that dies, it tears at the strings of your heart, especially when you're talking about a guy who was just 26 years old. Hell, I just turned 27 a few weeks ago, and I still feel like a kid sometimes. And to think that someone is dead who was younger than I am is the harsh reality that anything can, and frequently does happen in life.

It goes without saying that this is a tremendous tragedy. This ranks right up there with when Justin Skaggs died from brain cancer at the age of 28. Or when Al Lucas passed away at 26 after a hit on the field that fatally injured him. Or when Fran Papasedero died in 2003 at the age of 34 thanks to a DUI. Or when Junior Seau committed suicide just this year at 43.

Each of these deaths of football players that we know came in significantly different forms. Inoperable cancer has nothing to do with the game of football and is just one of the unfortunate happenings in life. Drunk driving is another off-the-field issue for certain, but it is something that could have, lest should have been avoided. Hits on the field are a part of football, and a part of sports as we know them. But especially in this game, when players take each other head-on, and in the case of the AFL, go crashing into walls seemingly on every single play, are a part of the game, and everyone that signs on the dotted line knows that it is a risk of playing the sport that they love. Suicide normally has other concerns connected to it, and as we are learning as science and technology improve, is that the dangers of football extend far beyond a player's career.

This past weekend was one of the more interesting weekends of arena football that I have seen in quite some time. I got a chance to do some good work with Libby's Legacy in Orlando, but I had to sit through a horrid game in which the Orlando Predators looked a lot like the Bad News Bears when they were on offense for about half the game. Then I had to help report on Bobby Sippio being incredibly foolish and getting himself arrested and essentially kicked off of the Preds. Commissioner Jerry B. Kurz talked about league expansion, but I had to listen as the AFLPU continued to threaten a work stoppage if the league and the PU can't come to an agreement in the near future on labor terms.

The next night, I saw a fantastic game when the Tampa Bay Storm edged the Milwaukee Mustangs, but in a stretch of just a few minutes, I had to watch as both Adam Tadisch and Deonte Bolden were carted off the field on stretchers. Then back at home, I caught the end of the San Jose SaberCats triumphing over the Chicago Rush, as Johnie Kirton plowed into the end zone in overtime for what proved to be the winning score in what surely was one of the Top 10 Arena Football League games ever played.

Just look at this picture at the top of this article. Little did we know that that play, the fullback that bounced around in four different cities over the course of the last three seasons would be walking off of the field for the final time.

And now, Johnie Kirton is dead.

And in that moment, as I looked at my cell phone this morning, the whole weekend more or less flashed before my eyes. In the end, it doesn't really matter if my Predators, mired in their worst season ever, are 1-9 or 9-1. It doesn't really matter if the SaberCats would have won or lost that game. It really doesn't matter if the Storm and Mustangs played a remarkable ending or a terrible one. It really doesn't matter if the players get paid $400 per week or $650 per week. It really doesn't matter if the owners are making zillions of dollars per game, or if they are bleeding money with red financial statements. None of it really matters.

In the end, it's all just a game.

At least as of this hour, we still don't know the cause of Kirton's death, and it might be quite some time until we find out. That being said, no matter whether this turns out to be a self-inflicted problem, a scientific illness, neglect, or just a freakish happening in nature, it doesn't make it any less tragic. In the end, Kirton was still just like so many of us out there. He had a girlfriend. He had a daughter. He had a long, long career in front of him, not just as a football player, but as a father, a husband, and a member of the human race.

Regardless of what you do for a living, you have to be able to relate to this. Anything can happen, and any day on this earth could be our last.

And on days like this, days of true tragedy, misfortunate, and sadness, that is something that we really need to remember.

I never got a chance to see Kirton play in person, and even if I did, I must admit that it probably would have been a forgettable experience, knowing that he only had 24 total TDs over the course of three seasons. Heck, that's two and a half games for the Nick Davila's and Tommy Grady's of this world. But even though I never got a chance to see or meet Kirton, just like so many of you as well, we all know that from this day forward, he will never be forgotten.

Because in the end, this is all just a game. And unfortunately, we won't get a chance to see Johnie Kirton play it any longer.

Rest In Peace, Johnie Kirton.