Brigance still the strongest guy in the room

Ravens official deals with Lou Gehrig's disease; his foundation to hold fundraiser Tuesday

by Kevin Cowherd
Baltimore Sun
September 24, 2009

This was at training camp 2008, in the conference room at the Best Western Hotel in Westminster, the place so quiet you could hear hearts beat.

O.J. Brigance stood in front of the Ravens with a body ravaged by Lou Gehrig's disease and told them in essence: Don't look at me any differently. Don't feel sorry for me. I'm still here. I'm still one of you.

He told ESPN's "Outside the Lines" program that he gave the speech for one simple reason.

"They were going to have one of the toughest jobs in the league," he said of the Ravens. "They were going to have to watch a man walk out of life right before their eyes."

But that man isn't ready to walk out of life just yet.

Next Tuesday, O.J. Brigance turns 40, still a Raven, still inspiring the team with his quiet courage in the face of a horrible disease.

That night, the Brigance Brigade Foundation, which he founded to raise awareness of the disease, will hold a fundraiser at M&T Bank Stadium.

They're calling it "Two Rings for O.J.," a testimony to his 12-year pro career as the only player to win a Super Bowl ring (Ravens, 2001) and a Grey Cup ring (Baltimore Stallions, 1995) in the same city.

Tickets are $175 a pop, more if you want to rub shoulders at the VIP reception with some of the Ravens and former NFL greats. (For more info, go to www.bcf.org/brigance.)

But what you need to know about Brigance and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS, the other name for the cruel neurodegenerative disease that cripples the body but leaves brain function intact, is that the Ravens still draw strength from him.

"We talk about the spirit of our football team," coach John Harbaugh said Wednesday before practice. "And O.J. is at the core of that spirit right now."

It's been nearly 2 1/2 years since Brigance was diagnosed with ALS. But he still goes to work every day at the Castle in Owings Mills, where he's in his seventh season as the Ravens' director of player development.

He still attends all the practices and team meetings. Veteran players still seek his counsel and push the rookies to do the same.

And the rookies always leave impressed.

Harry Swayne, the former offensive lineman and a teammate of Brigance's who's now the Ravens' assistant director of player programs, recalled one young player asking him about Brigance's ALS last year.

"Why does this kind of thing happen to such good people?" the player asked.

It "happens to good people," Swayne replied, "because they show us how to live with these unfortunate circumstances."

Yes, that's it exactly. Since the very beginning, Brigance has seemed determined to show others how to live life to the fullest with a terrible disease.

Drawing on his faith, he has remained upbeat and faced the deterioration of his body with a quiet dignity.

Josh Miller, the former NFL punter who was also Brigance's teammate on the Stallions, recalled seeing him at a Ravens game two years ago.

"I made the mistake of saying 'I'm sorry,' " Miller recalled. "And he said 'Josh, if this hadn't happened to me, I wouldn't have impacted as many people as I have.' "

Obviously the prognosis is not good.

More than 5,000 people in this country are diagnosed with ALS each year, and the average survival time is three to five years.

Brigance's once-chiseled 236-pound frame is shrunken and emaciated now. He must use a wheelchair. His speech is barely audible. He's tended to by drivers and nurses and doctors.

Every minute of every day, he's reminded of the frustrating litany of things he can no longer do for himself.

"His spirits are good. Some days are a little more challenging than others," said Chanda Brigance, O.J.'s wife of 15 years, and you can hear in her voice how tough some days must be. "But we take each day one at a time."

Me, I keep thinking back to that "Outside the Lines" program and a clip of O.J. playing in the Ravens' 34-7 win over the New York Giants in the January 2001 Super Bowl in Tampa, Fla.

As the footage rolls, he talks about being young and strong, running down the field on the opening kickoff, flashbulbs popping all over Raymond James Stadium.

You see him upending the Giants' return guy, Ron Dixon, with a terrific open-field tackle.

Then he pops up and does this joyful celebratory dance as the Ravens' defense runs onto the field, the rest of the team fired up now, feeding off his emotion, drawing strength from this great opening play.

All these years later, when the Ravens gather, O.J. Brigance might still be the strongest guy in the room.

Copyright © 2009, The Baltimore Sun