Thompson: Trent Williams brush with death has him appreciating life with 49ers

Everything means more when you were expecting to die. The grass of training camp smells fresher. The laughs shared with teammates feel warmer. The adrenaline rush from clashes in the trenches hits harder. Something about being confronted by the prospect of death makes life more vibrant.

Everything means more when you were expecting to die.

The grass of training camp smells fresher. The laughs shared with teammates feel warmer. The adrenaline rush from clashes in the trenches hits harder. Something about being confronted by the prospect of death makes life more vibrant.

That’s true even for someone as tough and hardened as Trent Williams. The 6-foot-5, 320-pound left tackle has been nicknamed Silverback. He has run with the gorilla theme — from the tattoo on his back to the art he collects to the emojis on his Instagram posts — as a way of personifying his brute physicality and beastly mentality. But, maaaaan, life has a way of turning the strong into the serene. 

“I did feel invincible,” Williams said in a recent phone interview. “I can’t lie. I mean, you know, I was just celebrating going to my seventh straight Pro Bowl and, you know, boom, you’re hit with the news that you got cancer. So it really knocked me off my high horse.”

Advertisement

Now, 16 months after the diagnosis and nearly 10 months since he went public with his cancer battle, the 49ers are getting a reenergized Williams, one with a new grasp on joy and thankfulness. The Super Bowl potential of the 49ers, the positive energy and camaraderie in the franchise, feels like the ultimate bounce back. Coming from Washington, the 49ers feel like utopia. Williams hasn’t played in 20 months, so his body should be a fresh 32 years old. But the real rejuvenation is in his mentality.

His perspective is filtered through appreciation. His invincibility has been erased by humility, and that humility ensures he enjoys all of this. The big fancy stuff — the private jet access, the exquisite cars, the diamonds — is even more special because he understands life is short. The small, meaningful things — the precious smiles of his daughters, the challenge of getting better, enjoying going to work — are even more profound because he was faced with losing them.

“Yes, that’s dead on man. I’m happy,” Williams said. “The vibe is amazing. It lifts my spirits. It’s just a good atmosphere to be in and I think it’s very refreshing for me in Year 11. What I’ve been through gave me a different outlook. And, you know, I’d just rather take advantage of my time here and not focus on the negative. I know tomorrow isn’t promised by any means. So I just try to live in the moment and I’m just enjoying myself right now. And this organization makes it a lot easier for me as well.”

The only question now, as he heads into his first NFL action since 2018, is whether a happy gorilla can be as formidable as an angry one.

“Gorillas are a cerebral animal,” he said. “They’re really smart. So, you know, I’ve always tried to play with controlled aggression, you know? I can’t just have my hair on fire.”

Williams might be the flyest offensive lineman in the league. It’s hard to find a 300-pound lineman with the fashion swag of a wide receiver. But the Longview, Texas, native pulls it off like he was born with the sauce.

Advertisement

You might catch him in a tailored suit. Or a short set with the brightest, loudest pattern. Or some stylish ripped jeans and sneakers you can’t find in stores. The saying goes look good, feel good. Williams has probably even used that line before to explain the threads and the jewelry. But now he knows a different paradigm: feel good, look good. Because the clothes don’t make the man, but the man makes the clothes.

And this man has “cancer survivor” attached to his name. As surreal as that sounds, he can’t help but feel good because he knows the depths from which he climbed.

“I’m a realist, man. And I understand that so many people who battled cancer and are unable to sit here and tell us about it. So I was just grateful — grateful that I had another chance at life, grateful I was still able to play the game that I love,” he said.

“Because it was tough, you know, in the eye of the storm.” 

Williams was at a hospital in Virginia in April 2019 when he got the news that would change his life. The growth on his head, which he first spotted in 2013 and gradually got bigger, turned out to be a rare form of soft tissue cancer called dermatofibrosarcoma protuberans (DFSP). Williams said the team doctors in Washington repeatedly told him over the years there was nothing to worry about. So you can imagine how hard the news hit this day in Virginia when the doctor told him to get his affairs in order.

“They were under the impression that the cancer had spread to my brain,” Williams said, “so it didn’t look too good for me at that point. So they told me to get closest to the people I love. You know, that was kind of eye-opening.”

He doesn’t remember the drive home. 

He flew to Chicago for another opinion. That’s where he got the good news. The cancer had not actually spread to his brain. It was still on his skull. Surgery was immediately required to remove the sarcoma before it metastasized. After they removed all of the DFSP through multiple procedures, the worst part was over. The dark place had some light. But Williams still was left with hundreds of stitches and staples, his face and head healing from skin transfers. Looking in the mirror had its struggles, but thanksgiving got him through. And his two young daughters.

Advertisement

“They were everything,” he said. “They kept me sane when things seemed kind of grave, when my future wasn’t bright. They were a driving force. They gave me something to be motivated for. I know I needed to be here and I know I needed to be in good spirits because, at the end of the day, I’m still a father.”

The rumblings and whispers were faint in the height of this cancer scare. But once he survived, they became louder, clearer. He could hear them. Yes, Williams heard the criticisms. He heard people declare him unworthy of the trouble, a shell of himself. He recognized how easily some discarded him despite his dominance before cancer.

Williams isn’t so overwhelmed with appreciation he can’t muster a good ol’ fashioned chip on his shoulder. He does believe he has something to prove this season. He said he was surprised he was written off so easily, as if taking one season off meant he wasn’t among the NFL’s best linemen at the most critical position. He said he’s here to re-establish himself as a dominant force.

Such an edge is good news for the 49ers. Williams’ combination of massiveness, elite athleticism and experience figures to make him an upgrade over Joe Staley, the legendary lineman who retired after last season. Not only could Jimmy Garoppolo’s blindside use the protection, but the Williams from before the year off figures to be a perfect blend of nasty and agile for Kyle Shanahan’s offense. 

Without a doubt, Williams still has the chops. The way at the beginning of camp he handled stud pass rusher Nick Bosa, who as a rookie terrorized the best in the game, and the sight of Williams leading the fray in the 49ers’ outside-zone schemes made the 2020 fifth-round pick and the 2021 third-round pick used to acquire Williams via trade feel more than worth it.

“That’s why I’m here,” he said, “to re-establish myself.”

Williams said the 49ers were a perfect fit because of the coaching staff, which he said is full of familiar faces and people he trusts. Williams and Shanahan developed a bond during their days in Washington together and maintained a good relationship. Williams was acutely aware of how much of a fit he’d be in Shanahan’s offense and how he fit the mold of what the 49ers coaches want.

Advertisement

Williams requested to be traded away from Washington twice. The first time, last summer, was because he was upset with the franchise for misdiagnosing his cancerous tumor. Much of his ire seemed directed at Bruce Allen, the team president at the time. He held out five months before returning in late October, which is when he went public with his cancer diagnosis. He was then placed on the non-football injury list.

After Allen was fired, Williams and Washington entered discussions on a new deal. When those fell apart, Williams demanded another trade through his agent. Not even new coach and face of the franchise Ron Rivera could talk Williams back into the fold. 

That guy from Washington, who was blunt and frustrated in his interviews, who was constantly unhappy in the news, feels long gone. He has managed to find his way back to a good headspace. 

“First time strapping those pads up,” Williams said, “it started to feel surreal because after hearing those words (get your affairs in order), football is the last thing on your mind. You have to think where I was 16 months ago and to actually be in a locker room with a bunch of great, talented players and to actually be on a Super Bowl-contending team. It almost felt like a storybook ending. It comes with a different type of enjoyment, you know, knowing that it can be taken away from you at any time.”

— Reported from Santa Clara

(Photo courtesy of the San Francisco 49ers)

ncG1vNJzZmismJqutbTLnquim16YvK57kWlqbWxlZ3xzfJFpZmlxX2V%2BcMDHqKSpq5%2BjerW%2BxKerZq%2BZobmqrcysZJuqpai1bsPIrZ9mnJWWwal5x5qqZqCZonqivM%2BrnJyhkam2r7OMpaCfnV2strW0jG1wnqqjZA%3D%3D

 Share!