For eight months, Kevin Kolb wasn’t Kevin Kolb. He was somebody else. Concussion No. 4 changed him. ¶ At night, he’d stare at the ceiling for four hours straight. His sleep cycle was warped beyond repair. ¶ In the morning, he’d brush his teeth in front of the mirror and see a cloud form around his face. Forget coffee. One cup spiraled him into a “whole different realm.” When people spoke to Kolb, he couldn’t digest the information. His short- term memory? Shot. ¶ Worst of all, his vision could blur at any moment. ¶ “Almost like you’re drunk,” Kolb said, “like everything is fuzzy all the way around you.
Brains under pressure: Concussion crisis continues to haunt the NFL
