Gridiron great reveals on (and off) field battles

For 16 years, Bill Romanowski ruled the football field. Coaches loved him for the heart and soul he gave to the game. He was rewarded with two Pro Bowl appearances and four Super Bowl rings, but it all came at a heavy price: dozens of concussions that have led to dizzy spells, memory lapses and questionable choices that undermined his integrity. Would he do it all over again? In “Romo: My Life on the Edge — Living Dreams and Slaying Dragons,” Romanowski describes his NFL career and how he would do things differently. He visited “Today” to discuss his book. Here's an excerpt:

Chapter One: My Body's Like an Army
As a little boy, I was keenly aware of how my parents struggled with managing our family finances. There were too many nights when I would be sitting at the kitchen table, trying to make myself invisible as they wrestled with making ends meet. Even when I went to bed, I could hear them through the walls, worrying about how they were going to come up with the money to keep my four siblings, and our family, afloat. Maybe a second mortgage, maybe Mom would take on second jobs. Whatever it took to not only pay the bills, but also to put their five children through college.

William Morrow

Moments like those cut deeply into my view of my world and my future. Back then I was just anxious that they were troubled. Then, as I got older, I understood it more. There was nothing scarier than watching your parents, the foundations of our security, being rocked by whatever their problems were.

Dad suffered a stroke while he was at work. When I got home from school that day, Mom told me that Daddy was in the hospital with a brain aneurysm. Being nine years old, I didn't know what that meant. It wasn't hard to figure out once we went to visit him.

Doctors had shaved the hair off half his head, and he had a huge scar where they opened his scalp to go into his brain. It scared me and my mom. Even though Dad recovered well, I saw how afraid Mom was at the prospect of losing him. We all have our memories, and the scary ones seem to stay with us longer and follow us into adulthood.

One night some years later, probably around eighth or ninth grade, I remember being hit with the revelation that I could actually do something about my family's financial troubles and save my parents from at least a portion of their constant worries. I could earn a college scholarship. I didn't know whether I could make it baseball, basketball, or football. I didn't know whether I was actually good enough. But I knew if I made it my goal and worked hard enough at it, something positive would result. And if sports weren't enough, then I'd simply enlist in the military, like my dad did during the Korean War, and use the G.I. Bill to pay for my tuition.

Dreaming, I found, was the easier part. What was tougher was figuring out how to make it happen. I didn't have a road map to get from here to there. For whatever reasons, I didn't feel as if I had anyone to guide me. And I kept my intentions to myself. Looking back, I was afraid to share my dream out loud because I felt insecure about who I was and what I was capable of.

Sports were my logical ticket. I had my older brothers’ rolemodeling, but they also enjoyed hunting and fishing with Dad while I seemed more consumed with sports, or limited to that single passion. I wasn't sure what to do with that passion until I had an epiphany that would transform me forever. Instantly, I felt aligned with a purpose.

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