Colin Kaepernick wasn’t promised a posse.
After the San Francisco 49ers quarterback protested racial injustice during national anthems in preseason, league management didn’t exactly condone solidarity. Commissioner Roger Goodell publicly affirmed Kaepernick’s right to free speech, but said he disagreed with the decision to kneel, and urged players to “choose respectful ways” of using their platform. Executives from other teams called Kaepernick a “traitor” whom they wouldn’t sign.
When the regular season kicked off Thursday in Denver, Broncos linebacker Brandon Marshall—Kaepernick’s college teammate—kneeled for the anthem. The next day, Marshall’s sponsor Air Academy Federal Credit Union terminated its relationship. (Marshall lost a second sponsorship deal on Monday.)
So it wasn’t all internet outrage and scorched jerseys. Before the weekend even started, this type of protest had consequences, financial and professional. Sunday’s historical significance—the 15th anniversary of 9/11—didn’t help. Professional football players interested in supporting a colleague’s stand against police brutality now faced accusations of disrespecting a national tragedy.
Still, players joined in protest. In Kansas City, Chiefs cornerback Marcus Peters raised a gloved right fist. In Seattle, four Dolphins players took a knee. Sunday night in Arizona, the New England Patriots’ Devin McCourty and Martellus Bennett raised fists of their own. And on “Monday Night Football,” Kaepernick and teammate Eric Reid kneeled before the flag, while 49ers linebacker Eli Harold, safety Antoine Bethea, and Rams players Kenny Britt and Robert Quinn stood with fists high.
Activism inherently rustles feathers, but more so when spliced into a billion-dollar entertainment product—and even more so when that product is synonymous with cultural norms. Televised football may be the cultural norm in America, now disrupted by claims that “normal” is broken. Despite the effort in Week 1, grumpy owners and tepid sponsors couldn’t stop players from saying so.
“They say it’s not the time to do this,” Dolphins running back Arian Foster, who kneeled, said after his team’s win. “When is the time?”
According to NFL reporter Robert Klemko, Sunday sparked a group text with over 70 league veterans, discussing that exact question. Next week, the chorus is likely to grow.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.