Not Faster than a Speeding Bullet, but More Powerful than a Locomotive, this Man of Steel is an Inspiration for Everyone
In the hills of Latrobe, Penn., on a relatively small but picturesque plot of land known as Saint Vincent College, a screeching horn pierces the air. A momentary hush falls over the crowd and then somewhere, amidst the behemoths better known as the Pittsburgh Steelers, a voice calls out, “Drill change!”
The late-afternoon sun, coupled with the lingering humidity, makes even the slightest breeze feel like bliss. And although the weather isn’t quite suffocating, it’s enough to bring a herd of lumbering Steelers to any of the three water pumps lining the practice field. The expressions on their faces say it all, “It’s about time we got a break.”
After a morning’s worth of physically grueling drills, the offensive and defensive players finally get a chance to relax and re-hydrate their mammoth bodies. For some it’s playtime – a chance to joke around and share the latest gossip. Future Hall of Fame running back, and known jokester, Jerome Bettis can be heard reminiscing about how he was “stylin’” in the end-zone under the nose of his fiery head coach, Bill Cowher. For others, it’s a time to sit and visit with teammates. Starting linebacker Larry Foote can be seen sitting on a water cooler, chatting amicably with his counterpart – All-Pro linebacker James Farrior. In short, it’s the first and only opportunity these guys have had during practice to forget about the job at hand and wind down a little bit.
But there’s still one gigantic man who hasn’t left the field; one man who isn’t socializing with anyone. He’s impossible to miss, as he stands 6’5 and weighs over 300 pounds. Not to mention he’s one of only a few players who’s separated himself from the rest and didn’t make a bee-line for the water when the horn ripped through the air. In fact, team trainers have to bring him his water in a Gatorade cup to ensure he gets enough fluids. His body language is easy to read: “I’m working.”
Four-time All-Pro guard Alan Faneca has his helmet hanging at his side, and his eyes remain locked on the kicking and punting units practicing on the opposite end of the field. Even though their practice routine has no affect on him, his focus is unwavering, his professionalism is apparent and his example is inspiring. His attitude shouldn’t be confused with arrogance, as he doesn’t coolly dismiss greetings from Josh Burr when the enormous tackle walks over. Rather, Faneca smilingly exchanges pleasantries with his fellow offensive lineman, but not at the expense of taking his eyes off practice.
After a few minutes, Faneca excuses himself from Burr and puts his black and gold helmet back on. He walks about ten yards up-field and stands next to center Jeff Hartings, fittingly another All-Pro player. Before you can ask what Faneca’s doing, a familiar horn blasts to signal the end of the break. While most of the resting Steelers are just now getting up to gather their gear, Faneca and Hartings are already prepared – standing ready at the line of scrimmage.
There are two kinds of role models in professional athletics: those who are defined by the media, and those who define themselves through hard work and dedication. Faneca is the latter, and it’s no wonder why this is. He is fully aware of how fortunate he is to be playing professional football. Not because he has achieved fame and fortune by doing it, but because he had to overcome epilepsy to even get the chance. Diagnosed with epilepsy at age 15, Faneca never let his condition keep him from doing what he was born to do – anchor an offensive line.
A Football Career In Jeopardy
For most people, Christmas Eve is associated with great memories, loads of presents, a truck-load of sweets and good times with extended family. But for Faneca, Christmas Eve is associated with his first seizure which put his once-blossoming football career in potential jeopardy.
His first seizure was at his great-grandparents’ house in the middle of Texas’ countryside. Because there were as many as 40 family members attending the holiday gathering, the party had to split up and the kids were sent to the grandparents’ house.
“I was there with all my cousins,” Faneca said. “[After my seizure] I just got up and I think I might have been crying and screaming a little bit. I was sort of wandering around the house as if I had to go somewhere. [But] they got me back to sleep and I woke up the next morning fine as could be. If I had slept through the whole thing I’d have never known.”
At the time, Faneca didn’t understand the seriousness of what happened. In fact, he thought his family was making a big issue out of nothing.
“I didn’t realize how much then, but my family was pretty concerned because they saw more of it than I did,” Faneca said. “What I was going through, I didn’t realize how it looked.”
After he had a few more seizures, Faneca’s parents finally took him to the doctor. Eventually, the doctor came back with his diagnosis: epilepsy. As for what caused his epilepsy, Faneca still isn’t sure. The best they could figure was that he’d endured a head trauma as a young child, and three occurrences stood out as possibilities. The first two were concussions he sustained in one basketball season. He got his legs kicked out from underneath him both times and he fell head-first into the floor. The third possibility occurred while at a family member’s house. While playing on a barrel that sat atop a heavy duty spring, Faneca slipped off that back end. While he sat there, the barrel bounced back and cracked him on top of his head.
Once doctors had diagnosed him, they put Faneca on the antiepileptic medication Tegretol – which he still takes today. He had a few seizures while on the medication, but only because they had yet to find the proper dosage. Once that was resolved, so were his seizures. But the possibility of losing football still preyed on his mind. At least, it did until he talked to his neurologist.
“Right off the bat, the doctor came out and said I could still do everything I’ve done before,” Faneca said. “We didn’t have to talk to him about [football] or discuss it with him at all, really. I think we had to ask our questions just to make sure because he came out and said that so fast. We wanted to make sure he understood what football meant. But he was great.”
Faneca knew that he’d dodged a bullet. Understanding that not many people with epilepsy are as fortunate as him, he was determined to not let epilepsy stand between him and his dreams.
“I honestly didn’t let [epilepsy affect me],” Faneca said. “I wasn’t going to let it. I was going to do everything normal.”
From High School, To College, To the Pros
Texas is a football factory. Each year the state churns out a slew of blue-chip football players who go on to star on big time college teams.
So how does a kid with epilepsy, however talented he may be, stand out amongst peers who are athletic specimens? Well, it wouldn’t have been much easier had he not had epilepsy, Faneca admits. But he said he had to make a conscious effort to not let his condition slip into his mind while on the field.
Not once did he adjust how he played the game, and not once did he encounter a bell-ringing hit that made him worry about seizures. Even better was the fact that his coaches and teammates never handled him delicately. This made it even easier for him to just go about his business and play the game with the ferocity he’d one day be known for in the NFL.
His tough demeanor and commanding presence on the football field eventually earned him a spot on Louisiana State University’s team.
“I don’t think epilepsy came up much when I went to LSU,” Faneca said. “But obviously when I was going through the NFL Combine, where they’re testing anything and everything about us, all the teams wanted to know about it.”
The NFL Scouting Combine is an annual event that’s by invite only. Only the best college players from around the country are asked to come and engage in various physical and mental challenges for team officials. The goal for each official is to evaluate the talent pool that will be available to them in the NFL draft.
“They would ask, ‘When was your last episode?’, ‘How are you on your medication?’, ‘What are you taking?’ They wanted all the facts and they wanted to hear them from me firsthand,” Faneca said. “Everyone, to my knowledge, was good with it – knowing that as long as I was on my medication I was fine.”
The Pittsburgh Steelers were certainly pleased with what they heard. On April 18, 1998, Faneca’s life-long dream came true. The Steelers picked him in the first round (26th overall) of the NFL draft – the same round as such notable players as Peyton Manning and Randy Moss.
“A lot of people can’t take their medication like I do and be fine,” Faneca said. “There are a lot of those people out there, and I think I’m lucky in that regard. I, for sure, couldn’t do this if I still had seizures while taking medication.”
People Should be Open about Their Epilepsy
Faneca credits his parents for teaching him how to handle his condition. They stressed the importance of him being open about it, and he believes that helped him overcome the obstacles it presented.
Being a new parent, Faneca firmly believes parents and coaches of kids with epilepsy need to let their kids grow up and be who they’re going to be.
“When kids are growing up, they fall down and learn from it. I think a little bit of that has to kind of carry over to something as serious as epilepsy,” Faneca said. “They need to learn their boundaries and parameters and learn a little bit on their own, as well.”
As for kids with epilepsy themselves, Faneca is a testament to his parents’ teachings because he tells them what his parents told him.
“I think the best thing for kids with epilepsy to do is to just be open about it, especially because if something does happen, your friends need to know. They need to be able to tell the paramedics,” he said. “Along with that, by being open, you don’t have to feel like you’re hiding something. You don’t have to feel inferior to your friends if that’s how you’re feeling. You can be yourself, be open about it and move on and do what you’re able to do.”
Coming from a man who has prevailed over epilepsy and is considered by experts to be the very best at his position – not to mention a man who weighs 300 pounds – his opinions carry a little weight.