Three Words. No Dollar Amount. No Timeline. No Teeth.

They wrote 'CTE-related protections' and called it legislation. That's not a provision — that's a bullet point on a PowerPoint deck someone made between lunch and a 2pm tee time. Aaron Hernandez. Derek Kramer. The names we know and the hundreds we don't. These are real people whose brains were destroyed inside programs that generated billions. And the best this proposed framework can offer is 'CTE-related protections' — no defined screening protocol, no mandatory baseline testing, no compensation structure for former players already living with the damage right now. The guy whose career ended ten years ago doesn't have time for vague language. He's already symptomatic. He already can't sleep. He's already losing arguments with his wife that he can't explain. 'CTE-related protections' without specifics is the legislative equivalent of a coach telling a player he'll 'take care of him' — it sounds like something until the moment you need it to mean something. So here's the question: Who specifically drafted this language, and will they put their name next to a version that includes mandatory neurological screening timelines and retroactive coverage for former athletes? Name names or stop calling it protection.