Don't blame those who blow off the bowls. Appreciate those who don't.

As the opt-outs mount, some NFL-bound players still believe it's worth one last game.

Grayson McCall ended his career at Coastal Carolina with a touchdown, as if anything else would do.

McCall created 86 of them while he wore the teal-and-gold of the Chanticleers, on the Conway, S.C. campus, with a neat little stadium that’s right on the main highway to Myrtle Beach. He threw for 72. He threw only seven passes to the wrong team, in his four years, and in 2020 he led Coastal Carolina to a No. 12 ranking at one point. It was a nice career for a 2-star recruit from exurban Charlotte.

But McCall only got halfway through the Birmingham Bowl on Tuesday night. As he lunged for that final TD, he landed squarely on the top of his helmet, and he was woozy as his teammates helped him up. He did not return. The official diagnosis was “upper body injury,” but it’s likely McCall will be dealing with a concussion.

Cue the Greek chorus. Why is he playing? Why is he endangering his career for a stupid bowl game, playing for nothing except ESPN’s insatiable urge for programming? Doesn’t anybody care about these kids?

Yes. Specifically, McCall cares about all the other kids. He was bent on playing even though he had already announced he was entering the transfer portal. On the other side of that door will be some of the top programs in the country, drooling to get all that experience and moxie at the QB position. Had McCall been in protection mode, he would have sat safely in front of a warm TV somewhere, far from Protective Stadium and, for that matter, yet another chaotic airport.

Instead he played for his teammates, most of whom are playing football for the final time in their lives before they go to the military or work behind a bank counter or go for their MBAs or whatever.

Now, let’s be clear. It’s unfair to come down hard on every player who makes the opposite decision, who does recognize the bowl charade. Average attendance for the bowls so far is 18,000. The players are being “rewarded” by time served in Montgomery or Albuquerque or Boise. In Fort Worth last week, the temperature was plus-9 at kickoff. The stadiums are studios for the most part, bereft of fans outside immediate family.

Why should they risk a torn ACL or even a bruised cuticle to participate in the sham, especially since they will immediately enter the 40-Yard Dash For The Cash, the whole NFL draft process that climaxes with the combine? If you can’t participate in that, you’ll hear the names of a busload of healthy players before you hear yours on draft night.

The first high-profile player to beg off was Stanford’s Christian McCaffrey. He didn’t play in the Sun Bowl, where the Cardinal was playing North Carolina. Stanford won anyway, and McCaffrey went through the running and jumping and improved his 2017 draft status, to No. 8 in the first round. In 2020 and 2021 he visited the injured reserve list. This just in: Football players get hurt. Sometimes they get hurt when nobody hits them (ask Donte Fowler and Teddy Bridgewater).

In that same draft, pass rusher Myles Garrett went first overall, to Cleveland. He knew he would go first-overall, and thus had much more to lose than anyone else. His Texas A&M team was playing a half-baked bowl game in Houston, where Garrett is from. Hardly anyone cared, but Garrett insisted on playing. He did, suffered no ill effects, reached the finish line with his teammates, and, earlier this year, signed a five-year, $125 million contract with the Browns, $43 million of which is guaranteed.

But it’s not a trend. Four Oklahoma players are opting out of the Cheez-It Bowl with Florida State. Four Texas players are doing the same at the Alamo Bowl, against Washington. That’s not counting the transfer portal.

Not even the glamour bowls are safe. Those are the ones who used to be New Year’s Day staples, in front of actual crowds, staged in pro stadiums, with perks galore. Three Tennessee players, including Biletnikoff Award winner Jalin Hyatt, are bagging the Orange Bowl. Two Clemson players, including linebacker Myles Murphy, are doing the same.

Fortunately no player is opting out of the College Football Playoff. That might be the only decent argument for extending the field from four teams to 12.

Alabama is missing the CFP for the first time in its 9-year existence. It is playing in the Sugar Bowl against Kansas State. That would be a dream for most programs, and certainly is for Kansas State, but it’s an obvious letdown for the Crimson Tide. Still, quarterback Bryce Young and linebacker Will Anderson will play, even though they’re probably among the top five in their draft class.

“The best way to create value for yourself is to play football,” Nick Saban said. “A lot of guys say they’re going to get ready for the NFL. I say, ‘Well, what do you mean? Get ready for the combine?’ A lot of things you do in the combine aren’t relevant to what you do on the football field. Our two guys are great competitors and they want to help their teammates win, and they’ll be creating value for themselves. It might be old-fashioned, but I sort of respect that.”

The Greek chorus reached a crescendo after the 2015 season when Notre Dame linebacker Jaylon Smith ripped two knee ligaments in the Fiesta Bowl. Smith was supposed to be a Top 5 pick. Almost everyone short of the Holy See was blamed…until the Cowboys picked Smith in the second round, accepted the fact that he wouldn’t play in 2016, prepped him for 2017 and, two years later, gave him $35 million guaranteed over five years. Smith is still around, playing for the Giants, at age 27. At no time did Smith express any regret over playing.

NFL teams know that modern medicine is an astounding thing. In last season’s CFP championship, Alabama’s Jameson Williams tore his ACL. It did not stop Detroit from taking him in the first round, and, today, he’s playing.

A college football player makes staggering sacrifices, in terms of time, pain and mental health. Almost all of them realize, quickly, that they’re being asked to invest more than they’d anticipated. A bowl game is not so much a reward as a commemoration.

It’s the last go-round for the backup center, the long snapper, the bakcup quarterback who flashed the signals to McCall, analyzed the film with him, shared the emotional ups and downs and laughs and tears in Coastal’s quarterback room, all that time.

It’s a chance for the assistant coaches to tell the recruits, “There. There we are, playing on national TV.”

It’s for the concentric circles of the parents and girlfriends and the extended football community that hangs around all those locker rooms on those chilly evenings, waiting for their young man to emerge.

Yeah, it’s kind of old-fashioned. Grayson McCall’s head was in the wrong place Tuesday night. His heart wasn’t.