Im fing playing: Michigans Jake Butt on the bowl decision that changed his life

Posted by Larita Shotwell on Sunday, June 9, 2024

Editor’s note: This is part of The Athletic’s Tales from Bowl Season series exploring some of the best and quirkiest stories from past bowl games.

ANN ARBOR, Mich. — Jake Butt had a few things to get off his chest.

The start of bowl season revives an annual debate about players opting out to avoid getting injured. Butt, the former Michigan tight end who tore his ACL against Florida State in the 2016 Orange Bowl, has complicated feelings about the way his story has been portrayed, both by those who see him as a cautionary tale and those who see him as a shining example.

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“Anyone doing a story/podcast about this, reach out to me so I can represent myself with my own words,” Butt wrote on Twitter.

So we did. Butt, who retired in July after four injury-plagued seasons in the NFL, spoke with The Athletic about his injury, the consequences for his career and Michigan’s return to the Orange Bowl.

Note: Answers have been lightly edited for length and clarity.

A big part of the conversation around bowl games deals with whether players should play or opt out. What is your perspective on that conversation as somebody who played in a bowl game and had a serious injury?

Especially in football, generalities typically don’t work, especially for situations like this. People look at one small sliver of the decision: “Hey, you’re screwing over your team by not playing.” “Hey, you’re sitting out and saving yourself millions of dollars.” That is the surface of this decision.

I tore my ACL in a bowl game. I lost a lot of money by falling in the draft. It didn’t stop there. Since I was injured outside of the NFL, I did not get a credited season my rookie year. I did not get benefits my rookie year. I was not part of league insurance my rookie year. I made split salary, which was a six-figure reduction in my salary.

Those credited seasons count toward your pension. They didn’t give me a 401K match, which is almost $30,000. Your total net loss is going to be probably a quarter-million dollars if you get hurt and are not able to play your rookie season.

For me, I don’t regret playing. I understand there’s a long game in life, and I always knew there was going to be life after football. Yeah, I lost money, but I have a massive respect and love here at the University of Michigan. That is something money can’t buy.

Other people don’t see it that way. There are a lot of guys who play football, and football is all they have. Let them make that decision for themselves.

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Did Michigan take care of you after you got hurt?

The school paid for my surgery. That was my second ACL I had, and I had significant damage in my knee from that one. I tore my meniscus, had a bone bruise … if you look at the picture, my knee was literally bent at a 90-degree angle. It’s lucky worse things didn’t happen.

The school has to pay for it because it happened at school. But when I’ll need a knee replacement one day, the school doesn’t take care of that. You can’t file a disability claim. You can’t get workers’ comp. All those costs aren’t recouped.

You had a loss-of-value policy, right? Was that a meaningful benefit or was it a hassle?

It’s an insurance claim, so it’s not taxable. It was a nice benefit. None of the numbers that were reported in the media were accurate, but it was definitely meaningful. I’ll tell you this: I would have made more money if I hadn’t gotten hurt and got drafted where I was slotted to get drafted.

I would have made more money by having a healthy NFL career. It helps the pain a little bit, but I can’t sit here and tell you I didn’t have a lot of sleepless nights wondering, “What if?”

When you think back on your NFL career, how much significance do you put on that one game and that one play? Do you look back and think your whole career could have been different if not for that injury?

The more injuries you have, the more future injuries you’ll probably have. They do pile on themselves. The narrative changes to: “Hey, this is an injury-prone guy.” That matters. Sure, I wonder. But it’s not exactly relevant. What happened, happened. I just have to find a good perspective to deal with it and get on with my life.

Is it true that you were really sick and almost didn’t play? Describe that week in Miami leading up to the game.

I probably would have had a very good excuse to not play in that game. I had just gotten a tooth pulled that was super infected. I think because of that, the infection maybe spread throughout my body. I got sick as hell.

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About two days before the game, I had to go to the hospital because I had a 103.5 (degree) fever. I was messed up. I remember coaches looking at me, not really asking, but I could tell in their eyes: “Are you going to play or not?” I told them: “Dude, this is the biggest game I’ve played in at Michigan. I’m fucking playing. I don’t give a shit. I don’t care if I’m sick or not. I’m a ballplayer. I’m taking the field.”

What do you remember about the play itself?

The play itself is so ironic. I didn’t have a route. We were down in the red zone. It was a sprint out to the right. I was on the left side of the offensive line. It was supposed to be a quick play: Throw to the flat, get some yards and move on.

We were expecting man. Florida State sat in zone. Wilton (Speight) is rolling out right, sees nothing there, pulls up and rolls back left to me. I let go of my block and leak into the left flat. I’m wide open, and Wilton throws me the ball.

I’m running down the sideline. I see two Florida State defenders coming. The first guy comes, and I kind of stiff-arm him and spin off of him. I try to balance and plant my right leg right in the turf. I remember that turf — it was real grass — was supposed to be the best grass to protect against injuries and ACLs. As soon as I plant my right leg in the ground, Trey Marshall — Florida State safety; I played with him in Denver — came like a fucking torpedo right through the side of my knee. My cleats just grabbed the ground and my leg basically bent at a 90-degree angle. You hear the pop and you know right away.

What was going through your mind in that moment?

I’ll never forget. All of a sudden the stadium is dead quiet. You feel this buzz in the stadium, like, “What the fuck is going on? Someone just got seriously injured.” Your whole leg kind of goes numb. Normally, you take some shots where you think maybe you can get up and shake it off. I was waiting for that to happen, but my leg wasn’t working.

A couple minutes pass. They do the whole ACL test. I hear them whispering and see the look on the doctor’s face. I pretty much immediately know that I tore my ACL. I’m like: “All right, this is getting to be a bit too dramatic. Let’s just get back to the locker room and let everybody get on with their lives.”

They stand me up. The stadium cheers, whatever. I start to cry, understanding everything that just happened. As I’m walking, I’m regaining a little strength and motion in my knee. I’m like: “Wait a second, maybe I’m all right after all. Damn, I’m going to look like the biggest drama queen of all time.”

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We go back in the locker room, and I’m telling our head trainer: “I think I’m all right. I think my knee is good to go.” He looked at the ground and was like: “Nah, man, you’re done. You tore your ACL.”

Fuck, I cried like a baby. I was crying my eyes out. I was like, “Someone get the insurance company on the line.” We got them on the line and ensured that I was covered. I remember Jabrill Peppers didn’t play in the game. He came back in the locker room. He couldn’t even look at me. He just kept shaking his head, like, “Holy shit.”

For better or for worse, my life definitely changed in that moment.

After you got drafted by the Broncos, you talked about being determined not to let injuries derail your career. When did you start to feel the injuries were too much to overcome?

I missed my entire rookie season. I get healthy, come back for OTAs the next year, and I felt really, really good. I’ll be honest with you: I was playing damn good ball. It was the best I’d ever felt in my life.

I played my first three games and was on pace to break some rookie records in Denver. We’re playing Kansas City on a Monday night. I just came off a game where I didn’t get many targets, so they were really going to try to feed me on Monday night in Arrowhead, a rivalry game.

I’m running down on scout-team kickoff on a Thursday. It’s raining out. The ground’s a little soft. Our quarterback coach was like, “Man, this ground feels a little weird today, right?” You hear that in warmups and brush it off to the side. I’m running down on kickoff, I make a plant, and my other ACL tears. I’m laying there like, “You’ve got to be shitting me.” That one actually broke me. I couldn’t act tough anymore. I cried for probably a week straight.

Nine months later, they cleared me. The second day of camp, I re-tore my meniscus. I pretty much thought my career was over. I thought Denver was going to cut me. At that point, I wanted them to cut me. I was like: “Man, this is fucking torturous. Let me go out with honor. You guys make the decision for me. Please, God, cut me.” But they didn’t. They kept me on IR. John Elway saw something in me. That stretch of months I had was good enough for him to want me to come back.

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They bring me back for my fourth year. I’m buried on the depth chart. I reported early with the rookies and had a hell of a camp, blocking my ass off, feeling great. Week 1, I dislocate both the knuckles on my index finger and middle finger on my right hand. I didn’t want to miss any time, so I basically played through it. Four or five weeks later, I pull my hamstring and go on IR for the rest of the season. My will had almost been broken.

It was no longer fun for me, which sucks, but it was just the reality. I always knew there was life after football. I felt like it was time for me to move on, close that chapter of my life and go out on my own terms.

As someone who played for Jim Harbaugh, what do you see in this team that has allowed the Wolverines to be where they are?

I’m happy as hell for Coach Harbaugh. He’s just a ball coach. It’s as simple as that. You see some of these other coaches who try to transition between college and the NFL and they can’t do it. Harbaugh is a great coach anywhere he’s been. Stanford, the 49ers, here at Michigan — wherever he’s been, success has followed him.

My year in ’16, we definitely underperformed. We’re probably the forgotten team. No one remembers you if you don’t win anything. This team felt special all year. Harbaugh himself improved on a personal level with his connection with his coaches and his players and the love they have for each other.

They’ve got an opportunity you don’t get every single year to win a national championship. It’s not going to be easy. They’ve got to go through Georgia, a really good ball team. All I say is, why not?

Let’s end this on a lighter note. You had an endorsement deal with Charmin when you were in the NFL. Do you ever feel like the NIL era came along a few years too late for you?

Oh, my God, man, yeah. I probably wouldn’t be working right now. People were wearing Butt jerseys, Butt shirts, having fun with my last name.

If you go back to my time in college, I was a big advocate for this, understanding the economic side of this and how many people were making money off of my name other than me. I was sitting there making $1,300 a month with my rent check. I can be grateful for that and still say we probably deserved a little bit more.

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Yeah, maybe it came a couple years too late, but hey, it’s better late than never.

(Illustration: John Bradford / The Athletic; Photo: Mike Ehrmann / Getty Images)

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