A stop-and-go pattern

Sporting News, The, Sept 1, 1997 by Michael Bauman

There is an ugly surgical scar on his right knee, but that's all. There is no brace on Robert Brooks' knee, not even a sleeve for protection. After what Brooks went through when he injured that knee last October 14, you sort of expect something sturdy and reassuring.

"I'm walkin' by faith, baby," Brooks says. And then he smiles. The smile is so peaceful you have to smile with him. Brace? Who needs a brace?

Faith. That's what this is about; Robert Brooks' religious faith, and, in turn, the Packers' faith in Brooks. Without all of this faith, there is no story. There is only injured reserve.

What happened to his right knee early in a game against the 49ers last October was more like an implosion than an injury. The play looked like a routine downfield standoff between wide receiver and defensive back, Brooks and Tyronne Drakeford. But then Brooks was on the ground. He was down because there was nothing left unshredded in his knee -- torn anterior cruciate ligament, torn medial collateral ligament, torn patellar tendon, torn cartilage and a bone chip.

The prognosis was that his 1997 season would be threatened, and that was the high end. His whole career could be threatened.

It was a serious blow to the Packers. In 1995, Brooks caught 102 passes for a franchise-record 1,497 yards and 13 touchdowns. The Packers were supposed to be suffering then, too, because a neck injury had ended the career of Sterling Sharpe.

But Brooks did more than step out of Sharpe's shadow. He was fast and precise on the outside. Over the middle, well, he was no hulk at 6-0 and 180 pounds, but he knew no fear. His level of play was comparable to Sharpe's. And, as the rest of the Packers grew to appreciate, he was a much more self-less teammate.

There had been plenty of doubt about Brooks being a bona fide go-to-guy. But now, after this knee-mangling injury, just as then, there was one man who wasn't worried about Robert Brooks' future. That was Robert Brooks.

He was brought into the training room at Lambeau Field. He was in agony, but he was also doing what he has done all his life -- praying. "Lying on the table, hurting so bad, God gave me the answer," Brooks says. "It came to me that I was being used to help others in their time of tribulation."

Brooks thought he would be an example of the power of faith in difficult times.

Days later, just before surgery, Steve Newman, a team chaplain, brought a Bible passage to Brooks -- 2 Corinthians 1:3 -- a reference to the "God of all comfort," who comforts the afflicted so that they in turn may comfort others.

"That was exactly the thought that God had put in my mind," Brooks says. "I told Steve, `Man, that's crazy.' Then I said, `No, it's not crazy.' God was allowing this to happen. It was so deep, man. From that point on, I couldn't be negative. I couldn't not come back. I couldn't be down, not one single day."

And he wasn't. To friends and teammates expressing concern, Brooks responded: "`A miracle is about to happen, get ready for it.' It was bard for them to believe. First week, `I'm going to be healed, I'm going to be back in half the time.'"

He was. Brooks was jogging by January. He was running all of his routes at full speed by the beginning of training camp. An understandably cautious coaching staff held him out of contact work for four weeks of camp and for the first three exhibition games. But you could not look at Brooks in practice -- making moves, getting open, streaking to the sideline, leaping to catch the football, staying in bounds seemingly by force of will -- and believe his injury had been anything worse than a bruise.

Says Packers trainer Pepper Burruss: "If he returns to play in any semblance of the football player he was -- and we now expect that -- it will be the greatest recovery I've ever seen in my 20 years as a trainer."

The only part of that Brooks would quibble with is the word "recovery." Brooks says the appropriate term is "healing."

"If you trust God, and you believe that he can do what he says he's going to do, you can't start doubting," he says. "I asked God for the healing. I confessed it. I said `I'm healed.' Now I've got to walk by faith."

Then there was the other aspect of faith -- the Packers' boundless confidence in Brooks. There he was, in the offseason, just months from a ruined knee. And the Packers decided they could do without Andre Rison, a key part of their drive to a Super Bowl victory, because, they said, Rison couldn't beat out Brooks for a starting job, anyway.

When asked about how that decision was made, the typical Packers response seems to have more to do with Brooks than with Brooks' right knee.

"He was way, way ahead of schedule, according to our medical people," coach Mike Holmgren says. "And he's just such a diligent hard-working guy. There was nothing that indicated that he wouldn't be able to come back. His rehab was ahead of schedule, he's got the great attitude, he appears to have retained his speed. So all the indicators told us that he could come back. From all they tell me, his leg is healed."