Austin Helton could’ve come out of the womb in a neck roll – he always believed he was born to be a middle linebacker. 

His father, Blake, insists that Austin’s wrists and ankles were as big as his as an elementary schooler. Austin played two age groups up in Little League football, still outweighing his teammates by 20 pounds. He started on varsity as a freshman at Sunnyvale High School, then racked up over 100 tackles in each of his first two seasons, before most kids his age had even played a varsity snap.

On the football field and in life, Austin was one tough S.O.B. Blake has only seen him cry twice. Once, when his grandfather died. The second time was one Saturday morning after a scrimmage before his junior season. Earlier in that week of practice, Austin had jumped to catch a ball and landed straight on his butt. His back spasmed, but he shrugged it off. In the scrimmage that Friday night, he had a pick-six and a rushing touchdown. By the end of the game, it hurt to walk. 

Austin had gone to bed sore and woke up afraid. He shuffled gingerly into the living room, hunched over, tears dripping to the floor. They fell involuntarily, both from the shooting pains and the fear of what they meant - that football, and so much more, could be ripped away.

“When it first happened, we didn’t know if he’d ever step on a football field again,” Blake said. “Hell, we didn’t even know if he’d bend over and tie his shoes again.” 

That day started the clock on the longest nine months of the Helton family’s life. Austin was diagnosed with a fractured L2 vertebra and a partially fractured L5. He’d miss his entire junior season, if not more. The Heltons got the news while Austin was at practice, and Blake had to drive to the school to tell him. They’d avoided the worst-case scenario, but Blake still felt like the grim reaper walking into the training room. 

“His goal and lifelong dream was to play collegiate football and in the NFL,” Blake said. “For me to come in and say, ‘Your junior year is done.’ It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to tell him.”

Austin held it together in the training room, walked into the locker room, and broke down. That summer, he and his dad had gone to 13 college camps together. He was in the best shape of his life, ready to stack scholarship offers with another stellar season. Now, on the Monday of the first game week, it was already over. 

“He worked so hard that summer to be the best he could’ve been for his junior year, because he knew what the end result could have been,” Blake said. “For that to come about in the second darned scrimmage, it destroyed him. And it destroyed me.” 

Austin’s injury shattered the entire Sunnyvale team’s psyche, especially head coach Cody Stutts. Sunnyvale, a Class 4A program, is one of the last one-horse towns in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex. The Little League teams practice at the high school stadium, and the varsity coaches know each player’s journey. Stutts had heard about Austin since the sixth grade, then watched him break middle school rushing records. Three nights ago, Austin had just had the best scrimmage he’d ever seen. It was supposed to be the start of one of the state’s breakout years. 

“I remember sitting in this office, and me and his dad kind of bawling,” Stutts said. “I’m like, ‘I have a whole team I have to look at and convince that we’ve got this without our heart and soul.’”

But the Sunnyvale team would still have its heart; it would just be putting on a coach’s headset instead of shoulder pads. 

Stutts, who served as Sunnyvale’s defensive coordinator before he was elevated to head coach, describes Austin as the closest thing a player can be to one of his own. The two are in sync on every week’s defensive game plan. So Austin still attended every practice before school and mentored the team’s backup middle linebacker from the sidelines. Sunnyvale went three rounds deep in the playoffs, their deepest run since 2015.

“Austin was a huge part of last season,” Stutts said. “Even though he wasn’t on the field, he was with us every step of the way.”

Austin wore a back brace on the sidelines and was forced to sit on the couch for most of the fall. Rest was the only way to heal, but also the hardest thing for a born competitor to do. Physical therapy was grueling, but it was far from the most painful part of his injury.

“I never knew if I was going to be able to play again,” Austin said. “That’s what made the emotional part so much worse than the physical.”

The Helton family went to seven different back surgeons’ offices, confirming and re-confirming and then triple-checking in case they hallucinated that Austin would not be a paraplegic. He was cleared this offseason, but his mother, Shana, did not want him to play again. In front of the Sunnyvale football team, Austin was as strong through rehab as he had been on the football field. But Shana was the one he could show cracks in front of, and the one who built him back up for the team. 

Austin has played in every game of his senior year and returned to his dominant self with 109 tackles and 15 tackles for loss. He’s the defensive lynchpin for a Sunnyvale team that’s playing in the District 6-4A DII Championship game against Canton this Friday night. But in the Helton household, every week before the game is a debate, every Friday night is series after series of holding their breath, and every Saturday morning is a nervous examination of the black and blue spots all over Austin’s body. 

When Austin was six years old, his father hung two stenciled signs over his bedroom door. The last two words Austin saw before he started every day were “Strength” and “Desire.” The harsh reality, as Austin knows all too well now, is that sometimes life sucks. Blake and Shana have used sports to prepare Austin for the inevitable challenges he’ll face. He coached Austin in football and had him play two age groups above his level to test him. 

Blake was a college athlete himself, with the crooked fingers and torn-up knee to prove it. He knows this game can physically break you, but emotionally make you.   

“I know we’re just talking about Austin here, but it happens to millions of people,” Blake said. “Some people overcome it, and some don’t. Thank God that Austin had the willpower to rebuild himself and get back on the field. Thank God, you know?”

The colleges are once again flocking to Sunnyvale to recruit Austin. While he is back on the field, he is not the same kid he once was. Playing college football used to be his end-all, be-all. But a season on the sidelines opened his eyes to how many more years he’ll spend with football one day. While finishing out his high school career is important to him, he doesn’t know yet if he wants to start a new one. 

“When I got set back, it made me realize I needed to start thinking about the other aspects of life and really putting myself out there instead of just being a football player,” Austin said.

He used to think he was born to be a middle linebacker. Now he knows he was born to be a fighter, no matter what career path he takes. He just has to find it first. 

“I haven’t found a new passion yet, but we’re working on it,” he says.