Kiz: Wes Welker is a grown man. If he’s paying the price for this violent game at age 55, it will not be my brain damage or my problem. So maybe it’s none of my business. But if Welker were my younger brother, I would feel compelled to say: “Hey, Little Buddy, I need you more than you need a Super Bowl ring. I know you play for the love of the game. But for the love of your family, it’s time to retire.”

Hooch: The problem is … Wes Welker is just too tough. On third-and-7, his toughness in the slot is the solution. But when it comes to the idea of retiring prematurely, I fear his toughness will be a problem, and it will get in the way of his decision-making. This was a little guy, even in high school. He went undrafted out of Texas Tech. And he bounced around the NFL before finally blossoming. He’s a self-made superstar. His whole MO is toughness, defying the odds, standing up to adversity, be it a cornerback or a concussion.

Kiz: OK, so there’s no reason for Welker to listen to somebody like me, an ink-stained wretch who has never played the game. But when longtime NFL player Joel Dreessen was asked for an opinion, here’s the heartfelt advice he said he would offer his former Broncos teammate: “Oh, man. This is such a conflicting question. You only get one brain. I’ve got dodgy knees, but doctors can always put artificial ones in there. You can’t have a brain replacement.”

Hooch: It would be weird for me or anyone to say: “Hey, Wes, keep risking this, because it’s not necessarily guaranteed you’ll live a terrifying adult life after football.” But if Welker spent an hour with the family of Dave Duerson — the Super Bowl-winning cornerback who committed suicide, and his note said it was brain trauma — maybe Wes would call it a career.

Kiz: Know what? I’m not sure a single NFL player in Welker’s shoes would voluntarily walk away now, with a solid chance to win the Super Bowl. Dreessen told me that rather than quit, he would gather his family and ask for one more year of football, with the promise this season would absolutely be his final season. Sounds like a deal with the devil. But I get it. So, go ahead, Mr. Welker. Play in 2014. Then be done. And should you suffer one more concussion … somebody smarter than you had better make you retire.

Hooch: And that’s the thing. With Welker, I hate to say, but it’s not “if” he’ll get another concussion, it’s “when.” If he keeps on playing, he’s bound to get one. So, hopefully, if he plays just one more season, Welker will elude the devil that is this sport before it’s too late. But, man, I hope that if he does win the Super Bowl this season — his ultimate goal — that years later he’ll actually be able to remember it.