Helmet? Check. Shoulder Pads? Check. Cup? No Thanks. (Published 2012) (2024)

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. — Protection is a perpetual buzzword in the N.F.L.

N.F.L. players protect their heads. N.F.L. players protect their quarterbacks. N.F.L. players protect their home field.

Strange as it might seem, however, N.F.L. players do not protect — in any way, apparently — perhaps their most sensitive possession.

“In my life, at every level, I have never worn a cup,” Giants tight end Martellus Bennett said this week. “I don’t know anyone who has. I think most guys like to hang out and be free.”

Linebacker Mark Herzlich paused for a moment, then shook his head. “A cup? No,” he said. “I think maybe I wore one when I was in Pee-Wee football. But not since. My mom made me wear one back then. I’m not even sure I had anything to protect, really.”

Giants quarterback Eli Manning laughed — for several seconds — when the subject was posed to him. Then he composed himself and recalled that his only interaction with groin sanctuaries in football was when one of his teammates in eighth grade wore a cup. Manning reported that it was “uncomfortable.”

“I mean for me, not him,” Manning said. “He was the center and so he was snapping the ball to me all the time. Having the cup there, it hurt my hand.”

Snickers and smiles aside, damage to players’ delicate zones has recently become something of a more pressing, if not altogether painful, topic in the N.F.L., as there have been several high-profile incidents involving foot-to-groin contact. Detroit Lions defensive tackle Ndamukong Suh drew scorn, and a $30,000 fine, for kicking Houston quarterback Matt Schaub in the groin last month.

Then during the Giants’ loss to Washington last Monday, defensive tackle Linval Joseph was kicked during a scrum, enraging him to the point that he nearly stamped on the offender before restraining himself.

“I can understand that,” Bennett said of Joseph’s reaction. “Getting hit there is like drunk driving: all it takes is one time for it to be really, really bad.”

So given that even the “slightest graze can feel like you got crushed,” as Justin Tuck said, why do football players — who wear equipment covering their arms and legs and knees and elbows and shoulders and hands and wrists — not embrace the possibilities when it comes to their most sensitive area?

Answers run the gamut. Many players cited a feeling of restrictiveness that comes with trying to run while wearing a cup. This is not surprising; after all, Bike Athletic, the company said to have invented the jockstrap in 1874, did so as a “support for the bicycle jockeys riding the cobblestone streets of Boston,” according to the company’s Web site. It stands to reason then that the demands of an athlete always on the move — a running back or wide receiver, say — would be different from a cyclist’s.

Still, it appears that offensive and defensive linemen, who are essentially falling all over one another on every play, might be helped by a cup. Yet they seem to pass on it as well. “We’re running, too,” defensive tackle Marvin Austin said. “It’s not the same as the other guys, but we’re sliding and shifting all the time.”

Austin shrugged. “Hey, do you see horses wearing cups?” he said. “No. They’re running all the time, and so are we.”

Manning noted this possibility as well, and also mentioned the disastrous potential if a cup shifted before a player bumped into another player. “You know, it’s supposed to be centered, obviously,” Manning said. “So, if it goes to the side and then you get hit and it presses into. ... ” He trailed off.

“Well, that’s not good,” he said.

Center David Baas bemoaned that this was even as issue at all, pointing to the code among players that dictates — in explicit, albeit unwritten, terms, Baas said — that groins are off limits. “Some people always ruin it for everyone else,” he said.

Despite the recent rash of undercarriage incidents, Joe Skiba, the Giants’ equipment director, said there had not been any players inquiring about traditional cups or banana cups or even something called the Nutty Buddy, which claims to be a revolutionary design.

In fact, Skiba said, he could only recall one player ever asking him about a cup, and it happened this year. Near the end of training camp, defensive end Osi Umenyiora approached Skiba and inquired about the possibility of wearing a cup.

“I was in a drill with J.P.P., and we came around and slammed into each other and I went down bad,” Umenyiora said, wincing at the memory of the contact with Jason Pierre-Paul. Seeking to avoid any further damage, Umenyiora dabbled with a soccer-style cup. It was the first time he had worn one. “You have to protect what’s important,” Umenyiora said solemnly.

But even Umenyiora’s foray into the world of safety occupied by baseball and hockey players everywhere, not to mention boxers, did not last long. After just a few weeks, Umenyiora returned to his free-form existence. “I know it’s risky,” he said. “I just felt like I couldn’t move.”

Asked if he would recommend the experience to his teammates, Umenyiora shook his head, and so it seems that the status quo will remain in the N.F.L. when it comes to this particular issue.

“We know it’s not ideal,” said Austin, who then pointed to his legs and noted that he and many other linemen weigh more than 300 pounds. “We’ve got protection,” he said laughing. “You’ve just got to hope your thighs are big enough to do the job.”