| The third in a series When Lions OG Mike Utley
was paralyzed in a game against the Los Angeles Rams Nov. 17, 1991, he lost a lot.
"Once I got hurt, I lost the use of my hands, my fingers, my wrists —
everything from my elbows down," Utley says. "I had nothing there. From
mid-chest, I had nothing."
Think of all the things he wouldn’t be able to do. Poor Mike Utley.
Correction: The previous paragraph contains the most inaccurate two sentences
you’ll ever read. Maybe such sentiment would apply to other people in similar
circumstances, but those words don’t belong within a country mile of Utley.
Things Utley can’t do as a result of his injury? If you come up with something,
let us know. We won’t hold our breath. In the meantime, think of the most active
person you’ve ever met. Not the most active paralyzed person. The most active person,
period. Utley has that person beat by a country mile.
Poor Mike Utley? You’ve got the wrong guy. Save the sympathy for someone who needs
it. Though full-blown walking is still a goal to be achieved — more on that later
— Utley is so rich in life experiences since he was paralyzed that he should be
grateful the IRS does not impose a tax on such treasures.
A few days after Utley was paralyzed, a doctor walked into his hospital room.
The doctor told Utley he would never walk again.
Utley responded indignantly, "Get out! Don’t tell me (that). Don’t tell
somebody else they can’t do something."
Another doctor made a similar mistake later in the rehabilitation process. The doctor
told Utley what he expected to get out of Utley during the course of the year.
Utley responded, "Doc, don’t you ever expect me to get something like that.
… When you expect me, that means there’s a limit."
Expanding upon this story, Utley says, "I will not allow somebody to limit me. Not
today. Not tomorrow. Not the insurance companies. Not the doctors. Not the therapists. Not
the people I train with. Don’t ever set a limit on me, because you know what? You
just pissed me off."
Utley does not talk like a paralysis victim. He talks like a football player rehabbing
an injury. He talks like a hard-charging Marine who has been shot and wants to know when
he can get back to the front line of battle.
His body fat is 10 percent. His goal is to get it down to nine percent. Why? At first
he can give no real reason. Then he says, "There’s 1,000 excuses not to do one
thing, but being a man you’ve got to find a reason — it takes only one — to
do something."
Utley is like the person who climbs an enormous mountain and gives as the only reason
why, "Because it’s there."
Utley lives for the challenge. Lives for the hunt. Lives to compete. Lives to try what
others fear.
As a kid, there were huge pine trees in his family’s backyard. His parents told
him not to climb the enormous trees for fear that he’d fall and get hurt.
"Well, what’s the first thing that I’d do when they’d turn their
back?" Utley says. "I’d climb to the top of these things. You’re
talking 60, 70, 80 feet up in the air, and I’m on the very tip of it. I’m up
there swaying — 15, 20 feet back and forth — the wind’s blowing, and I
think it’s the greatest thing in the world. And I don’t know how dangerous it
is, but by God I’m doing it."
That pretty much describes Utley since the day he was injured and his football career
ended. Danger be damned. Paralysis be damned. By God, he was going to do it. All of it.
Utley is an adrenaline junkie. Paralysis has not kept him from getting his fix on a
constant basis.
All of the things Utley hasn’t been able to do since he was paralyzed? That’s
a verrrrry short list.
All of the things Utley has done since he was paralyzed? That’s a verrrrry long
list. A verrrrry electrifying list. A verrrrry heart-pounding, pulse-racing list. It is a
list that beats the heck out of anything the most active person you know has on his or her
list. Utley’s list proves that paralysis has not gotten the better of him. If this
were a prize fight, the ref would have stopped it long ago, lifted Utley’s arm into
the air and called in the ring doctor to take make sure paralysis was OK from the beating
it had taken.
Soon after Utley was paralyzed, he had to wear a halo, a device full of bars and pins
designed to stabilize his neck.
Utley’s brothers put Christmas lights on the halo. The lights kept blinking and
going ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding as they clanked against the halo. The brothers
thought this was a pretty cool joke.
Listening to Utley talk, you get the impression that he thought so too. After all, this
showed they were still treating him as one of the guys instead of feeling sorry for him.
Plus, it gave Utley a target to get even with. And he did. In a way that you simply
won’t believe.
"I got even with them," Utley says. "I made them going skydiving with
me."
That’s right, skydiving.
"They both turned green when that door opened up and they jumped out," Utley
says.
Clearly Utley’s risk-taking was unaffected by the paralysis.
"That door to the plane opens up and, oh my God, you’re 13,500 feet up in the
air, and wow man that was awesome," Utley says.
It was as though he were back in uniform for the Lions.
"The first time you step on the football field as an NFL ball player, you’re
nervous, scared to death and all of this stuff because it’s 80,000 people in there
and millions are watching on TV," Utley says. "That’s an adrenaline rush. I
thrive on that. So everything I do, I try to make that feeling come back. … And so
when I (jumped) out of that plane, I tell you, almost all the adrenaline that I had the
first time I stepped on a football field, almost all of it came back."
When Utley landed, only one thought was in his mind: He had to get back up for another
jump. As soon as possible.
"I couldn’t get myself into my chair (fast enough) to wheel through the
grass, back onto the tarmac to get back in that plane to do it again," Utley says.
"It was so much fun."
Before the day was over, Utley had jumped out of an airplane a second time. He’s
jumped out of an airplane another dozen or so times since then.
Early on in the rehabilitation process after he had been released from the hospital,
Utley decided he’d like to learn how to kayak, thinking it would be great exercise
for his back and hands. He lived in Colorado at the time and contacted the Boulder (Colo.)
Recreational Department and asked if someone would spend time teaching him. A teacher was
found and the next thing Utley knew, he was in a kayak in a swimming pool.
Teacher: "Flip over so I can see if you can get out."
Utley: "Why in the hell would I want to flip over to see if I can get out?
That’s kind of like going into a fight to see if you can get your ass kicked. If it
happens, it happens."
Teacher: "No, no. I want to see if you can safely get yourself out."
Utley: "Man, I don’t know about that."
Enough conversation. The teacher pushed Utley over. Sink or swim time. Utley managed
just fine.
Utley: "Man, what the hell was that for?"
Teacher: "I wanted to see if you can get out. Now I can teach you."
Utley: "Couldn’t you teach me inside the boat better?"
For the next month, Utley took lessons in the pool. Utley never ventured outside the
swimming pool in a kayak, but now that he lives near the water in the state of Washington,
he has looked at some touring kayaks with outriggers with an eye on going river kayaking.
"It’s something for me to challenge myself," Utley says.
Being paralyzed didn’t stop Utley from snow skiing when he lived in Colorado. A
former Lions teammate said his mother lived in Colorado and could find someone to teach
Utley to ski if he was game.
This was like asking Hugh Hefner if he’d like to visit a sorority house. Of course
Utley was game. Any challenge, any time should be his motto.
His first year skiing, Utley used something that looks like a snowboard cut in half in
which the skier sits on a small seat. After that, he progressed to a mono ski.
"My thing was follow the leader," Utley says. "Wherever my buddies
(went), I went. I didn’t care. They would go off a jump, I sure in the hell tried
that. They’d go through the woods. They figure, we ain’t taking Mike through the
woods anymore because he’s much more of a plow than he is a swoosher. So I kind of
avoid the tree line. Once I got stuck down there. They had to figure out how to get me
out. Wherever they went, I went with them. Even for a moment, you forgot that you’re
paralyzed."
Only Utley can go to a hockey game and end up going scuba diving as a result. This
sounds like a variation of the old joke, I went to a hockey game and a fight broke out,
but it’s the honest-to-God’s truth. Utley went to a hockey game and a
scuba-diving challenge broke out.
When Utley lived in Colorado, he was at a hockey game. A man went up to Utley at the
game and said he knew the physical therapist who worked with Utley.
Then the man said, "I want to challenge you to see if you’d like to go scuba
diving."
Any challenge, any time.
"Sure," Utley said. "When are we starting?"
A couple of days later they met, and two weeks later Utley had completed the necessary
classes. The next step was to complete four test days.
"All right, since you taught me, I’ll fly you down to the Bahamas, and
let’s go," Utley told his instructor.
Just like that, they were in the Bahamas. Utley completed his four open-water test
dives to become certified. The first night after becoming certified, Utley went on a night
dive.
"Oh my God, it was phenomenal," Utley says. "Spooky and scary."
Utley kept remembering the No. 1 lesson he’d been taught. Don’t panic.
He went down 35-40 feet, and from the small lights on his mask Utley saw two huge
turtles. He followed one of the turtles.
"It was awesome," he says.
The next day, Utley went on a shark dive. At one point, a four-and-a-half foot shark
swam underneath his arm, and an eight-foot shark bumped into his knee and swam off.
For a guy who loves to try to recreate the adrenaline rush that once came from being an
NFL player, this was pretty close to heaven.
"Everything I do, I love competing with the feeling I had as a ball player,"
Utley says. "Nothing’s ever matched it yet, but you know something? I love
living, that feeling pumping through your system. And so from then on I have done James
Bond ship wrecks. I have done James Bond scooters where you hold on to them, and you zip
around. Oh my God. I mean that’s great.
"It’s battery powered. Did you ever see the James Bond movies where you have
these hand-held, little battery, little fan things that you scoot across, underneath the
water? You hold on to them, and you can zip around the ship wreck, you’re going
through the ship. It was great."
After his accident, Utley once went hang gliding off a boat in Miami. He was strapped
in, the boat reached speeds of 45 to 50 miles per hour and then Utley was released,
sending him over 1,000 feet up into the air.
As he was cruising through the air, Utley looked down and saw a couple of groups of
dolphins playing and jumping over one another.
"Oh man, I thought it was awesome," Utley says.
Of some of his other hang gliding experiences, Utley says, "I’ve done hang
gliding down in Colorado. I flew across the Rockies. Oh, man. I’ve done aerobatics in
a hang glider. That’s awesome."
By now, it should be clear what Utley’s favorite word is to describe his many
experiences.
Awesome.
Utley has so many water-related interests that you’d swear he must have been
either a sailor or a synchronized swimmer in another lifetime.
Kayaking in a swimming pool. Scuba diving with the turtles and the sharks. Hang gliding
off a boat.
And there’s more.
Utley has a power boat that gets up to 83, 85 miles an hour.
"I haul ass in that," Utley says.
Asked if he is the one who drives the boat, Utley responds incredulously, "Yes.
You think I’d let somebody else drive? Are you crazy? No."
OK, OK, Utley admits that he lets the love of his life take an occasional turn driving
the boat. In past years she’d sit on Utley’s lap and drive, but her confidence
has grown and she’s graduated to an independent seat behind the wheel.
On another occasion after he was paralyzed, Utley got behind the wheel of a boat. Way
behind the wheel. On that day in Colorado, he went water skiing.
"I absolutely loved it," he says.
Utley hopes to water ski again sometime in the future with some buddies of his who are
top-of-the-line water-skiers.
"I want to be able to compete with these guys in my little squatter ski,"
Utley says.
Any challenge, any time.
If you are paying any attention at all, it will come as no surprise that Utley does not
drive a station wagon. Nor does he drive in the slow lane of traffic.
Utley, obviously, drives a sports car. A 1987 Buick Grand National to be specific.
When asked if this is a fast car, Utley chuckles and says, "Yes it is. It’s a
V-6 turbo."
When asked the fastest he’s driven his car, Utley says, "Well, the
speedometer only goes up to 85." Again he chuckles.
The next question is obvious. Has Utley pushed the speedometer to 85?
"Oh, yeah," he says. "Let’s put it this way, I can light the rear
end up at about 100 miles an hour. I can light the rear end up by just stomping on
it."
One more question left to ask. Where does he drive this fast?
"Where the cops ain’t," Utley says.
Utley is more than an adrenaline junkie dropping out of the sky, racing through the
water, flying down mountains and putting the pedal to the metal on lonely roads meant for
drag racers.
Sure he plays hard. But when it’s time to work, he works just as hard. In
particular, he works hard rehabbing from the injury that paralyzed him.
He hits the weights four days a week. On Mondays and Thursdays he works the chest,
shoulders and triceps. On Tuesdays and Fridays he works the back and biceps. A typical
workout in the weight room last about two-and-a-half hours a day. He also sees a physical
therapist once a week, and what Utley learns there he puts into practice in the gym on
other days.
"There are intense moments," Utley says. "When it’s time to work, I
work my ass off. When it’s time to do the bench press (and) it’s time to kick
somebody’s ass, I kick somebody’s ass. When it’s time to fight and work
with my hip flexors or when I’m on the floor and I have a therapist yelling at me or
a trainer/weightlifter buddy of mine yelling at me, by God, I go out there and I push as
hard as I possibly can at that point, because if I don’t give part of myself I’m
cheating myself, and it pisses me off because I’ve wasted an opportunity to better
myself."
Whether it is getting his adrenaline fix from his many activities or going to war in
the weight room, Utley does not back down. He gets in the face of his paralysis, seemingly
going nose to nose and refuses to give an inch. He is living life to the fullest.
There is only one thing Utley admits he cannot do because of his paralysis.
"I just can’t play football anymore," He says.
Utley then revises this statement, possibly thinking he has given, if not an inch,
perhaps a centimeter and defiantly says, "I like to say that at 35, I’m too old
to play (anyway)."
He doesn’t even want to give that centimeter.
"Bottom line is, this SOB here has earned every bit of respect," Utley says.
"Why? Because I’m not sitting on my ass (complaining)."
Indeed, Utley is not one to just sit on his butt. Instead, he works his butt off, doing
everything he can to reach the ultimate dream of walking on his own.
For now, he can take steps, primarily while working inside parallel bars for safety
purposes. He’ll keep his hands on the parallel bars and can move his foot up or
forward or to the side or backward. He can’t complete this task while balancing his
entire weight on his own. For now, the parallel bars help him out as he moves a foot
forward and then works a hip forward as though stepping. His left hip flexor is behind in
terms of strength than his right, so he needs someone to push that foot forward.
"I’m stepping," Utley says. "Not what you consider walking."
Still, that is an amazing accomplishment for a man who was once told he would never
walk again. To hear Utley tell it, a more amazing accomplishment is yet to come.
"Is my goal to walk again?" Utley says. "Well, most definitely. But in
the meantime, I’m doing everything I can to get as far as possible. Now, do I plan on
walking? The answer is yes. Is it going to happen today? Well, I’ve trained very hard
this morning to have it happen. If it’s not today, it might be tomorrow. But when it
does happen. I will sure let people know.
"In my heart, I believe I will walk. Maybe it’s with a cane. Maybe it’s
with a four-poster walker. But you know something? I am a better person because of what I
have given of myself over the years."
The battle continues. The fight to walk is waged every day.
"People say, ‘Mike do you accept this injury?’ " Utley says.
"Absolutely, positively not. I deal with this injury on a daily basis. Now, do I have
good days? Do I have bad days? Well, yes I do. Guess what? I had good days and bad days
before I got hurt. So things don’t change. So it comes down to where I enjoy my life.
I wish I could play (football) again. I wish I wasn’t paralyzed. But you know
something? Wishing hasn’t gotten me to the top of the mountain yet, has it?"
Only tremendous work ethic and indomitable courage can get Utley to the top of that
mountain. He has no shortage of both qualities.
"I have never, never quit, and I have never asked, ‘Why me?’ "
Utley says. "I just can’t play football anymore, man. That’s all.
That’s the only thing I can’t do. I can do anything else in the world if I
choose to do it."
So count on Utley to continue to live a more full life than anyone you know. Count on
Utley to produce more adrenaline than anyone you know. Count on Utley to attack the
weights harder than anyone you know.
And one last thing. Count on Utley to set his alarm clock and continue waking up every
morning earlier than anyone you know.
"Every day I get up between 4:00 and 4:30 every day without question," Utley
says. "Even on Sundays. Why? Because I like sitting out, looking outside, smelling
the coffee. I don’t drink coffee, but smelling the roses. Just getting out there.
Listening to the damn birds chirp."
The man even sounds fired up — adrenaline roaring through his veins like 10-foot
waves at a surfing competition — when he is talking about stopping to smell the
roses.
"He’s one of those guys whose motor runs a million miles an hour," says
former NFL OG Curt Marsh. "He’s going to get the most out of life, and if
there’s something to do that he hasn’t done yet he’s going to do it. It is
inspiring. It’s inspiring to watch him with his life so full."
For information on the Mike Utley Foundation, go to www.mikeutley.org
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