Thomas Jones

[Raiders Army]

Not sure if anyone else saw this, but it's a great article: Thomas Jones: The NFL's Indestructible Man - WSJ.com

The NFL's Indestructible Man
Thomas Jones has logged 1,438 carries without injury

Thomas Jones makes a living launching himself into a crowd of men, each of whom can generate enough force with their bodies to knock over a rhinoceros.

On Saturday, when the New York Jets running back faces the Cincinnati Bengals in the first round of the NFL playoffs, he'll be riding an impressive streak: He has repeated this death-defying stunt 1,438 times in a row without sustaining an injury serious enough to keep him out of a game. (Jets fans should probably find the nearest piece of wood and start knocking on it furiously).

This season, the 5-foot-10, 212 pound, 31-year-old veteran has carried the ball 331 times, which is more often than all but one other player in the NFL and 37% more often than any other back over the age of 27.

What makes Mr. Jones so sturdy after so much mileage is a mystery that involves a bizarre rib injury early in his career, coal mines, hours of ice baths, near constant weight training, hours of film study, psychoanalysis, a healthy skepticism for the opinions of doctors and a team of chiropractors, massage therapists and nutritionists. "It doesn't happen by accident," says Jets general manager Mike Tannenbaum.

It wasn't always so rare, or so time-consuming, for NFL running backs to go long periods of time without injury. Barry Sanders of the Detroit Lions had 3,062 carries over the length of his career and sat out only seven games. Emmitt Smith carried the ball 4,409 times and sat out a mere seven games during his 13 seasons with the Dallas Cowboys. Running backs who began their careers on or after 1994 and carried the ball at least 1,500 times have missed an average of 15 games due to injury. The New England Patriots' Fred Taylor has missed more than 35.

Part of the reason for the spike in injuries to running backs is the explosion of big, fast players on defense. In the 1990s. More players were hitting running backs at the same time, and they were hitting them much harder. "What you're seeing is a big change in your defensive line and linebackers. They are much faster than they were before," says Ron DeAngelo, director of sports performance at University of Pittsburgh's Center for Sports Medicine.

Another reason for running back peril was a shift in offensive strategy. Bill Walsh's so-called "West Coast Offense" transformed the NFL into a passing league in the 1990s. Before the West Coast Offense, running backs usually enjoyed the luxury of having a big fullback who lined up in the backfield and acted as a lead blocker to take on the biggest defenders. To create passing options, teams began removing their fullbacks and adding extra receiver, leaving running backs to fend for themselves.

Former running back Eddie George, who came into the league in 1996 and rushed 2,865 times over nine seasons without missing a single game because of injury, says the game has sped up so much—even since he retired—that Mr. Jones's streak is something remarkable. "He doesn't get nearly the recognition he deserves," he says.

By the time Mr. Jones—a star halfback at Virginia—was drafted by the Arizona Cardinals with the 7th pick of the NFL draft in 2000, the life span of NFL running backs had dropped to just over two seasons. And in the middle of his rookie season, just before a game against the Minnesota Vikings, Mr. Jones had his first real scare—he began having trouble breathing.

Cardinals trainers couldn't figure out what was wrong, so Mr. Jones suited up anyway. "On the way back from the game, I couldn't breathe. I was just suffocating," he says. He landed in the emergency room that night, unsure of where his career was headed.

Born into a long line of coal miners in Virginia, Mr. Jones says he sees football much the same way—as a hazardous profession that requires hard work and pain. "My mom and dad went into dark and holes and I go into dark holes," he says. True to his upbringing, Mr. Jones soldiered through his pains all season. "Seeing my mom and dad work that hard and go into a dirty job like that, a dangerous job—a lot of my friends' parents lost their lives in the coal mines—I don't have a choice," he says.

Doctors diagnosed him with everything from walking pneumonia to anxiety to acid reflux, prescribing medications that did nothing to help. Over the next eight months, Mr. Jones said he spent $20,000 going to specialists in attempts to solve the problem. "My family was upset," he says. Finally, he met a chiropractor in Virginia who said his ribs had been knocked out of alignment while playing. After a simple procedure, his breathing began to get back to normal.

The incident set him back in Arizona, where he only sporadically held the starting running back position. He also suffered another ankle injury. But the experience had an important side effect. "Everything that I went through to find out what was going on made me so much more knowledgeable about my body," he says.

Mr. Jones began employing an army of outside assistants to help him stay healthy—chiropractors, physicians, osteopaths and athletic massage specialists. He also began obsessively monitoring himself. When he had aches and pains, he turned to his handpicked team. "Sometimes I wouldn't even go to the team trainers," he says.

Mr. Jones also upped his workout regimen. He lifts weights every day during the season—not just as a way to build speed and quickness on the field, but as a sort of body armor to prevent against injury. On Monday, when his body is in pain from Sunday's game, he does a full-body workout. Each day after that, it's a different muscle group.

"Guys on the team are like 'you're going to work out again?'" he says. "My body is my protection. The harder I am, the more solid I am, the more hits I can take."

Keith Pyne, a chiropractor who has worked extensively with Mr. Jones, says the injury early in his career was a fortunate event because it forced him to surround himself with people to look after him—a conclusion he says many NFL players don't come to until it's too late. "You can't be a running back and not be like Thomas Jones and expect to have a long career," Mr. Pyne says. "The athletes on the other side of the field are getting that much better."

"It takes some experimentation and some leaps of faith," says former New York Giants running back Tiki Barber, one of the few running backs who started his career in the 1990s and became known for his durability. Mr. Barber says a coach once told him it was "literally an act of God" that he hadn't been killed. "I just knew how to take care of my body," Mr. Barber says. "I knew how to listen to it."

After games and hard practices, Mr. Jones dunks himself in freezing-cold ice water to decrease the inflammation in his muscles and tendons—an uncomfortably painful procedure he says many players steer clear of. "I hate the cold tub, but I get in there regardless because it helps keep my legs fresh. It's like putting food in the refrigerator."

The Cardinals eventually traded Mr. Jones to the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. In 2004, he signed with the Chicago Bears, where he won the starting running back job and helped take the 2006 team to the Super Bowl. The following season, he was traded to the Jets, where last week he finished his fifth consecutive 1,000-yard season.

Mr. Tannenbaum, the Jets general manager, said the team wasn't bothered by Mr. Jones's relatively advanced age because he was so well conditioned and didn't have a large number of carries early in his career. But there was another skill they liked: he'd developed a style of running that helped him avoid big hits.

"I think it's because he studies the game. He knows how to avoid contact," says Mr. Tannenbaum. "He studies quite a bit in pass protection, in terms of how teams are going to attack us."

Mr. Jones, who earned his degree in psychology in three years at Virginia and is in the process of getting a masters degree in education, says he spends hours in the film room trying to psychoanalyze his opponents. "When you understand how people think then you're more prepared for situations—and I think people underestimate that," he says. For instance, if Mr. Jones says sees that a linebacker is unusually agile and has the ability to tackle him in the open field, he often lowers his shoulder and nails the guy.

"I know I can slam into him because he's expecting me to make a move because he's more athletic."

When Mr. Jones stays back to block in pass protection, he often faces defenders who are six to eight inches taller and 75-100 pounds heavier, running at him full speed in pursuit of Jets quarterback Mark Sanchez. In this situation, he says he likes to play mind games with the rushers to help mitigate the blows. He'll block them by ducking low at their knees, which protects his body. Then, when they start expecting the low block, he'll switch things up. "As soon as they get scared I hit them up top again," he says.

Mr. Jones says he's also matured—he plays more for longevity than glory. "I know I'm strong enough and big enough that I can run a guy over. But at the same time, I know I have to get 20 more carries," he says. "I've learned how to pick my battles over the course of the game."

Mr. Jones described a play last week against the Cincinnati Bengals where he was running toward the goal line and a safety was coming straight down at him.

"I could have lowered my shoulder and run into him and it would have been a crazy collision—'ooh and ahh'—but I tried to stop and spin and put my body in a position where he could hit me but it wasn't a solid hit," he says.

Football agent Eugene Parker, who represented the NFL's all-time leading rusher, Emmitt Smith, says the kind of off-field treatment Mr. Jones gets is quickly becoming the norm for younger players. Mr. Parker and other agents are corralling players into special training programs meant to prevent injuries.

Mr. Parker says he makes this argument to his young players: If a top running back can make $9 million to $10 million a year, and a good training program can give them an extra two seasons in the NFL, "that's $20 million," says Mr. Parker. "It's worth the investment."

Ultimately, no amount of training or strategy can guarantee that a running back—even Mr. Jones—will stay healthy forever. The position is just too physically demanding. In the NFL, one errant run can end a career.

"Luck is a big part of it, too," says Mr. DeAnglo.

I had forgotten that he was drafted by Arizona, BTW.

[gstelmack]

Originally Posted by article

Doctors diagnosed him with everything from walking pneumonia to anxiety to acid reflux, prescribing medications that did nothing to help. Over the next eight months, Mr. Jones said he spent $20,000 going to specialists in attempts to solve the problem. "My family was upset," he says. Finally, he met a chiropractor in Virginia who said his ribs had been knocked out of alignment while playing. After a simple procedure, his breathing began to get back to normal.

Crap, there goes my whole "Chiropractors are Quacks" belief...

[Suburban Rhythm]

Didn't he break his hand answering the phone, or at least that was his reason, while still with the Cards?

Also, didn't we just have a Thomas Jones thread like a month ago?

Edit-- yeah, we did

Thomas Jones - Front Office Football Central

[RainMaker]

Probably my favorite Bears player of the last decade.

[Karlifornia]

He helped bring my fantasy team to the brink of a championship this season. I am pro-Thomas Jones.

[Warhammer]

Even though I won my league, I wish I hadn't cut him after three games this year.

[CU Tiger]

Whats the infatuation with Mr. in that article?
Just seemed awkward.

[stevew]

Originally Posted by CU Tiger

Whats the infatuation with Mr. in that article?
Just seemed awkward.

too much Counting Crows.

[fantom1979]

I want to be a lion
Everybody wants to pass as cats
We all want to be big big stars, but we got different reasons for that
Believe in me because I don't believe in anything
and I want to be someone to believe

[Karlifornia]

Originally Posted by stevew

too much Counting Crows.

LOL good one, steve.