"It's just a game."

That phrase is uttered far too frequently. Sure, at their core football, basketball, soccer, baseball, are all just games. But to view anything with such a narrow perspective is a disservice to yourself and those playing.

For the players of these "games," there is so much more involved that we as fans may never understand. For many athletes, these games have been their craft and crutch for their entire lives. It is their livelihood at stake when they throw their bodies around the field to support their loved ones. But what happens when it's no longer the player supporting his family and instead it's the game supporting the player?

Too often we as fans witness athletes who have been stricken with the loss of a loved one in advance of a match. Brett Favre, Michael Jordan, D'Onta Foreman, and Isaiah Thomas to name a few. They all had unimaginable hardship thrust upon them and somehow managed to muster the strength to play a "game" shortly after.

These games did not let them down on the days where the athletes needed them most. Each of these four had an astounding play on what must have been the hardest days of their lives. It was the game that they poured so much into. The athletes were finally being supported.

This past weekend, the San Francisco 49ers won their first game of the season, cruising by the New York Giants 31-21. The 49ers wide receiver Marquise Goodwin had a single reception on that day, but he made it count by scoring an 83-yard touchdown. Instead of celebrating as most of us would, Goodwin fell to his knees.

Those watching the game might have assumed he was injured somehow while he was running to the end zone. Goodwin was in a different kind of agony, however. At four A.M. on the day of the game, his prematurely born son passed away. Goodwin didn't publicly announce his family's loss until after the game, so not even his teammates knew the grief he was experiencing.

How anyone could muster the strength to carry themselves into that stadium is beyond my own comprehension.

How anyone could think that football is only a game to Marquise is also beyond my understanding.

Marquise was going through possibly the hardest obstacle of his entire life, and I believe he needed to play on that day for himself and his son. He needed to do fthis or himself, as it was his only way to truly grieve. It wasn't until after catching that ball and pointing upwards to his son in Heaven, that we as fans could even glimpse into what football meant to Marquise.

After putting so much of themselves into the games they love in order to support their families, it is hard to recall a time where an athlete was experiencing a hardship like Marquise.

It's hard to recall a time where a game didn't support them in return. Playing is an outlet for many athletes to forget about their own problems. I can't find a reasonable explanation for how it seems to work out that when the players need it most, the game is there for them. But to me, if it were just a game, that would be impossible.