There are losses that sting, and then there are losses that scar you. This one did more than hurt the scoreboard — it cut straight through the heart of what football is supposed to stand for. The final score read 13–16 against the Los Angeles Chargers, but anyone who watched that game knows the numbers are lying. What happened on that field wasn’t just competition — it was something far darker, something the league would rather you didn’t talk about.

I’ve been around this game long enough to accept losing. It’s part of football. But losing like this — under whistles that hesitate, rules that bend, and eyes that conveniently look away — is something no professional should be forced to swallow. When a hit stops being about the ball and becomes a deliberate act against a human being, that’s not football anymore. That’s a choice. And we all saw it.

People will point to the scoreboard and tell you to move on. They always do. They’ll say 13–16 is close, that mistakes happen, that emotions are running high. But this wasn’t about emotions. This was about intent.

Anyone who has ever played or coached this game understands the difference between charging at the ball and charging at a person. One is instinct. The other is a decision. What happened in that game was not a “fluke collision.” It wasn’t bad timing. It wasn’t unfortunate physics. It was intentional — and the reactions afterward made that painfully clear.

The smirks. The taunts. The swagger walking away from a player still on the ground. That behavior doesn’t belong in football. It shows a lack of respect not only for the opponent, but for the game itself. Football is violent by nature, yes — but it is built on honor, accountability, and mutual respect. When those disappear, the sport loses its soul.

I’m not here to slander names. I don’t need to. Everyone watching knows exactly who and what this is about. What concerns me more is not the hit itself, but the silence that followed. The timid whistles. The invisible boundaries that suddenly appear for certain teams. The “special protection” that only some franchises seem to enjoy.

Week after week, the NFL speaks about integrity, safety, and fairness. Yet week after week, we watch dirty hits go unpunished, explained away as “part of the game.” When enforcement depends on the logo on the helmet, fairness becomes fiction.

If these are the standards the league claims to uphold, then those standards are hollow. Empty words printed on banners and repeated in press conferences, while reality on the field tells a completely different story. A league that cannot protect its players equally is a league that has betrayed its own foundation.

I will accept losses when they are earned. I will accept defeat when it comes from being outplayed. What I will not accept is watching my team get trampled under rules that even the league lacks the courage to enforce consistently.

Football deserves better than this. Players deserve better than this. Fans deserve better than this.

Because if intentional harm, selective enforcement, and silence are now considered “normal,” then the game we love is in far more danger than any scoreboard could ever show.