By his own estimation, Tennessee Titans cornerback Nick Harper says he has had four concussions during an NFL career that is edging into its ninth year.

And with a recent GQ article bringing to light the work of Bennet Omalu and his research linking head trauma suffered by professional football players to dementia, such things might be cause for alarm for guys like Harper.

But the veteran corner says such thoughts really don't even enter the equation as he puts on his helmet and prepares for the inevitable collisions that await on the football field.

"I'm going to be honest with you—it's not even an option," Harper says. "Nobody thinks about it. You just go compete. It's what you know since you could walk, and that's all you know, just compete.

"It's not even in the back of my mind. I don't even give it a second thought. You hear it. It could come on TV right before practice, but when you step on that field, it's out of there. It's all about competing and making plays."

Competition is one reason the risk is out of sight, out of mind for many NFL players. Compensation is another.

Pro football players realize they are, in essence, million-dollar pawns in a billion-dollar chess game that provides entertainment thrills for fans and at the same time lines the pockets of both players and owners with more than enough to go around.

It's no wonder guys like Harper are more than willing to accept the potential future negative consequences associated with the violent sport he plays.

Gladly, he says.

"If somebody would have come to me and told me 20 years down the road, 'Hey, you might lose your memory.' But if I knew I could do this for 12 years and make the kind of money I make, and get my family a head start, I would take it," Harper says.

Harper isn't alone.

"I don't think players think about that," linebacker Keith Bulluck says. "You start playing this game when you're 10 or 11 years old. You're not thinking about that. You're thinking about just going out and having a good time.

"Obviously there's a risk out there, but I know any play can be my last. I don't think about 20 years down the line. I'm more of a current events guy. I don't have time to worry about a however-many-year career and then 20 years down the line what could happen."

Titans center Kevin Mawae, who doubles as the president of the NFL Players Association, obviously has concerns about the long-term ramifications, and especially how those things could affect players long after their careers are through. But he too sides with Harper in believing that the reward supersedes the risks involved.

"Everybody's an individual," Mawae says. "Everybody's priorities are different, but the things that this game has allowed me to accomplish both on the field and off the field, such as financially for my family, and not just my children, but the next generation, for me that's a great reward. And it's a risk I'm willing to take. My hope would be that every player would think of it like that, but not everybody does."

And while the GQ article pointed out the NFL's reluctance to accept Omalu's research, and even recent comments indicated a hesitancy to fully make the leap linking head trauma and dementia, Mawae said the players union is already conducting its own study to confirm the viability of the recent findings.

Soon after the GQ article, a University of Michigan study commissioned by the NFL itself also made the connection. It reported that retired former football players are 19 times more likely to suffer from dementia-related illnesses later in life than the general population at large.

"Thom Mayer is actually the head of that group. He is the union doctor," Mawae says. "He's working closely with Sean Morey to put together a committee to look at head trauma and things like that. They're aware of the Michigan study."

Currently, NFL players take a baseline test. Once they suffer a concussion, they must again reach that baseline before they can be cleared to play again. Some players, like Titans tight end Alge Crumpler—who has never had a concussion—wishes such things were even taken completely out of the team's hands in such situations.

"If a guy is in a concussion situation he has to understand, that it's more than just football," Crumpler says. "I think as a player, we want to make sure that guys are getting the full information. Sometimes I wish it was not even the team doctor's call. I wish it was somebody that doesn't have a damn thing to do with the team, because you're talking about situations that could be harmful down the road. But there's no way for us to really know that."

And therein lies the rub. But in general, there is acceptance that no matter how much the risk, no matter how poor the quality of life might be somewhere down the road, the players involved know exactly what they're on board for—even if they don't yet know the complete cause and effect.

Former Titans tight end Frank Wycheck, who had multiple concussions that eventually ended his football career, says as much.

"That's what you sign up for," Wycheck says. "You understand that any one play, you see the tragic injuries that occur almost every Sunday, especially the ones that stick out, the ones where guys lay on the grass and don't get up. You see some pretty nasty stuff out there with the athletes getting bigger and faster. It's just going to be riskier.

"Do I want to cry the blues that, 'Hey, I've got something wrong with me,' when this is what I signed up for? But at the same time, I think it's a give and a take, and there should be some type of protection."

Wycheck has been an advocate that the league and the players' union need to do more to help retired players who could face potential struggles as they get older. There was widespread concern that the league and union didn't do enough to help players like center Mike Webster, who died basically penniless and homeless despite a Hall of Fame career.

"You would think they would take care of guys that put in the time," Wycheck says. "That part falls into a bigger picture of the insurance and taking care of guys that pretty much gave their life to the game and don't have the ability to do much later in life."

And while the money players make is a nice benefit, the thought that is figuratively out of mind today could have some literally out of mind tomorrow. Scary but true, even if the rewards outweigh the risk as most players say.

"Does it concern me? Absolutely, it does," Mawae says. "I'd be foolish not to take a look at this study and not say this could be me. Who knows? Right now, I feel great. When I leave this game, could something pop up? Probably, possibly—but hopefully not. But I am aware that it could be an issue."

Email tmccormick@nashvillescene.com