I was watching a football game over the weekend and I saw a giant lineman go down. He was in obvious pain and hobbled, assisted and very slowly, to the sideline. The TV commentators, to my amazement, said he didn’t look too bad and he was probably healthy enough to return to the field in a snap or two. But to look at this man, battered, bruised and probably many times concussed, his frame swollen by a cardiac nightmare of a diet, his veins pumped up with sugar, caffeine and who knows what else, you’d have to ask “in what world could anyone truly call him healthy?”