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Tuesday, March 26, was supposed to be a routine morning at the resurrected North Wilkesboro Speedway. The legendary 0.625-mile short track is carved into the foothills that rise from the red dirt northwestern corner of North Carolina, where the Piedmont region gives way to the Appalachian Mountains. The NASCAR All-Star Race, which takes the green flag Sunday night, was still eight weeks away, what should have been a comfortable span for the speedway ground crews that were starting the process of waking the 77-year-old bullring from its wintertime slumber. The drone of leaf blowers echoed off the crusty concrete frontstretch grandstand.

Then the machines fell silent.

Steve Swift was there, up from his office at Charlotte Motor Speedway, headquarters of Speedway Motorsports Inc., owner of a portfolio of NASCAR facilities including North Wilkesboro.

“One of the crew came to us and said, ‘Hey man, we might have a problem here,'” remembers Swift, SMI’s vice president of operations and development, aka The Guy Who Makes Sure the Racetracks Work Properly.

“We all ran up there and there was a foot-and-a-half crack in the grandstand, where we had taken some of the old seats out to do some maintenance work. Next thing you know, we take a look through that hole and it’s a not a hole. It’s a cavity. I mean, you could put a Ford pickup truck in there. I thought, this is a cave. Well, that isn’t good.”

Not good for track operators, sure. But for everyone else, be they NASCAR fans, historians, people who love liquor, or Swift’s coworkers who are in the business of promoting races, that hole in the grandstand was awesome. Like, Indiana Jones awesome.

Was it a moonshine cave?

For those who do not know, a quick primer on the intertwined, inebriated history of NASCAR and Wilkes County, North Carolina. During the 18th and 19th centuries, the Carolinas were settled largely by Scots-Irish immigrants, who brought their ways of distilling homemade whiskey across the pond with them. The process, in short, is that one heats up a mixture of corn mash and water in a large vat, captures the steam via a system of twisted pipes, and collects the resulting clear 150 proof alcohol into containers for distribution and consumption.

Decades of battling with the government over the taxation of that liquor pushed the majority of the liquid cooking into the mountains of Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia and North Carolina. Why? Because the red clay soil was perfect for growing the ingredients, and the endless rolling hills provided all sorts of nooks and crannies where distillery rigs could be secretly built and fired up under the cloak of night.

When the United States Congress passed the 18th Amendment in 1920, banning all alcohol sales, illegal moonshining became instantly and massively lucrative. After Prohibition was repealed in 1933, federal agents — aka revenuers — were still charged with enforcing the taxation of homemade liquor. And there was a lot of it. Thousands of bottles of moonshine were produced daily in Wilkes County alone, waiting to be sold and hauled out of those mountains to buyers in the trunks of tricked-out cars.

A single load of 22 cases produced about $110 profit, nearly $1,300 in 2024 dollars. Most of those delivery vehicles were Ford sedans, retrofitted with high-horsepower Indy 500-worthy engines and smoothly bouncing around on custom spring suspension systems. That allowed moonshine runners to outpace would-be arresting offices by slinging their machines through zigzaggy mountain roads, all while loaded down with hundreds of pounds of liquid weight sloshing around in crates of mason jars and plastic jugs.

When the men piloting those machines inevitably began arguing over who had the fastest rides, they started holding races to find out. That’s why the North Wilkesboro Speedway was plowed out of the dirt. Stock car racing — and ultimately, NASCAR — was born.

But in between all of those deliveries and all of that racing, all of that liquor had to be kept somewhere.

“That was the biggest problem, was where to put it all after we’d made it,” NASCAR Hall of Famer Junior Johnson explained during a drive around then-dilapidated North Wilkesboro Speedway in December 1999. Johnson, who grew up in nearby Ronda, North Carolina, drove his first race at the track in 1949, when he was just 17 years old. His father, Glenn Johnson Sr., was perhaps the most prolific moonshiner in the region, as proven one day in 1935.

“The federal guys came into the house. I was 4 years old. It was me, my mom, daddy, and my four brothers and sisters living there. They found boxes of whiskey in every room of the house. The kitchen. Under the porch. Every single bedroom. Everywhere. Because we didn’t have nowhere else to hide. You just put wherever you could until it was time to haul it off to somebody.”

The feds found 7,254 cases of moonshine stuffed into every corner of the Johnson house, the largest illegal liquor seizure ever seen on dry land. On that cold, rainy day in ’99, standing next to the old speedway that had been shuttered nearly four years, Johnson pointed into the mountains … and wait … did he point toward the racetrack itself?

“I know I built about a thousand stills in my lifetime. That’s a lot of whiskey. We hid the stills and we hid the whiskey everywhere. Anywhere where we thought someone might not look. Some of ’em was pretty much right under everybody’s nose.”

Or perhaps under their butts.

Back in Section O, Row 7, Swift and his team started peeling back the concrete like the top of a Spam can. As they did, he couldn’t help but think of a warning given to his crew in 2022, when they started the seemingly impossible process of resurrecting the racetrack for its first Cup Series event since 1996.

“During the construction process we were working on the suites that were that were left from back in the day, the ones that sit up above that main grandstand on the frontstretch,” Swift says of the buildings that were basically double-wide trailers atop stilts that tower over the modest sixteen 20-row sections of seats that line the frontstretch.

The hill that serves as their foundation was made from dirt that was piled up during the track’s construction in 1947, the oval famously laid lopsided. The frontstretch runs downhill and the backstretch uphill because track founder Enoch Staley couldn’t afford to make it perfectly flat.

“When we started running equipment up that hill, Paul Call came up here and warned us that we needed to be really careful because there were things underneath that grandstand that might cause that equipment to fall through,” said Swift.

Paul Call was the caretaker and unofficial welcome director for North Wilkesboro Speedway. He lived in a house adjacent the racetrack and started working there in the 1960s for Staley. During most of the 26-plus years that the bullring sat empty, he was its only employee, mowing the grass and telling stories to anyone who stopped by to take a look at the place as it slowly disintegrated.

In Wilkes County, the surname Call is like Smith. It’s everywhere. See: Willie Clay Call, aka “The Uncatchable,” who streaked through the hills around the racetrack in his liquor-packed 1961 Chrysler New Yorker. Paul Call saw every single NASCAR event run at North Wilkesboro, including last year’s All-Star revival. He died four months later, taking the secret of exactly what was beneath the grandstand with him.

When Swift spelunked his way into the chasm, he expected to find evidence of a sinkhole. They aren’t very common in the Carolina high country, but that had to be it, right? After all, this was the racetrack that had been plagued by infamously awful drainage issues, including the 1979 Holly Farms 400, which had to be postponed two weeks because of a gully-washer of a rain shower that canceled pole qualifying, but also caused the surfacing of — in the words of the Charlotte Observer — “millions of earthworms” that squirmed out of the dirt of the soaked infield to cover the asphalt racing surface with slime and also completely clogged the pipes that had been installed to whisk away the water.

Instead of water, mud or even a handful of nightcrawlers, Swift, a construction guy, found just that. Construction. They ran sinkhole tests, even pumping water into the hole to see where it went, hoping to trace any potential paths of erosion that might create future grandstand collapse. Instead, the hole filled up like a cement pond and the water had to be pumped back out.

“We found a wall that had been placed and some columns that were underneath, stuff you don’t find inside of what is supposed to just be a dirt bank,” Swift recalls, still audibly shocked. “There was things in place there that just didn’t appear as something that had happened over time. This was a purpose-built structure.”

But for what purpose? Swift still doesn’t know for sure. Though he does sound like a man who has a pretty good idea.

“Down in there, all I could think about was Paul Call. He tried to warn us.”

Swift’s job is typically an endless race against time, especially when he discovers serious structural issues within a facility that is preparing to host a big league event. However, this go-round, he told his crew to slow down, take their time and make sure they sifted through every bit of dirt for some sort of clues as to why they were standing inside a designed concrete box.

“You felt like an archaeologist,” Swift says, laughing. “But you aren’t looking for the tomb of Cleopatra or anything. Instead, I had Marcus Smith calling me all the time, asking, ‘Did you find anything yet? Any moonshine down there?'”

Smith, a NASCAR history junkie, is the son of a NASCAR history-maker, promoter and track owner Bruton Smith, who spent nearly his entire 95 years dealing with a roster of questionable stock car racing characters dating back to 1940s. Marcus, now chairman of the company his father started, SMI, knows the stories about Middle Georgia Raceway, a half-mile oval in Macon, Georgia, that hosted nine Cup Series (then Grand National) races from 1966 to ’71, won by the demigod likes of Richard Petty, David Pearson and Bobby Allison.

On Sept. 23, 1967, three months after Petty won the Macon 300 and three years before Jimi Hendrix played a show on the frontstretch, federal agents discovered what one described as “the most cleverly run moonshine operation I have ever seen.” A secret trapdoor in the floor of a faux ticket booth entered into a 125-foot tunnel that led to a chamber hidden 17 feet beneath the grandstand, containing a pair of stills that produced an estimated 80 gallons of moonshine daily.

“I won the next race they ran there, just a few weeks later,” recalls Allison, a three-time Macon winner and a four-time victor at North Wilkesboro. “I asked them if there was any of that whiskey left, but they said the feds blew it all up.”

Alas, North Wilkesboro’s cave wasn’t Middle Georgia’s. In the end, Swift and his team found nothing more than dirt and speculation. After a couple of weeks of investigating, the urgent business of NASCAR All-Star Race prep was unavoidable. The hole was filled with concrete, the grandstand was repaired and the seats were bolted back onto the cement.

The skeptics of the internet have labeled it all as either a publicity stunt or this generation’s version of Geraldo Rivera stepping into an awkwardly empty Al Capone vault on live TV. But those who love NASCAR, liquor and fun chose to roll with the legend of it all, like a bootlegger hanging onto the steering wheel of a Flathead Ford as he hears oncoming sirens behind him in hot pursuit.

“I think there was definitely something down there,” surmises Petty, the career leader in North Wilkesboro wins with 15 checkered flags. “But if someone was keeping a bunch of cases of liquor down there and someone else knew about it, then it wasn’t going to be down there for long. Some guy either drunk it all or sold to a guy who drunk it all.”

This weekend, those lucky fans with All-Star tickets in the next-to-last section before Turn One will know they are rooting for their favorite racers while sitting atop the most notorious spot of NASCAR’s most notorious speedway, right smack in the middle of America’s most notorious moonshine running valley.

And they can do so while sipping from a jar of perfectly legal, government-approved moonshine purchased from the North Wilkesboro Speedway concession stands, including a jar of “The Uncatchable” with Willie Clay Call’s mug on the label.

“The best part of this whole project, even as hard as it has been getting a place that had been sitting there empty falling apart, ready for racing, has been living the history of that place while also bringing it into the present,” Swift explains proudly. “You just got to work one day and you find a cave that someone built that no one knew about? That place is almost 80 years old and it has history going on.”

Still.

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After suffering a catastrophic injury, can UNC quarterback Max Johnson get his career back on track?

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After suffering a catastrophic injury, can UNC quarterback Max Johnson get his career back on track?

CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — Max Johnson seethed as he stared at the clock on the wall in his hospital room. He could not move his right leg, bandaged from hip to foot after surgery to fix a broken femur. He smelled like days-old sweat. Though his foot felt numb, the pain up and down his leg sometimes brought him to tears.

He always had been a guy who relied on his faith, but this injury was testing him. Johnson had transferred to North Carolina for what he thought would be a fifth and final college season. He’d hoped for a relatively straightforward time in Chapel Hill: a solid year that would lead him seamlessly into the NFL, just like Drake Maye and Sam Howell — the quarterbacks who preceded him at UNC.

Instead, three quarters into the opener at Minnesota in 2024, Johnson had been carted off the field while he held his bones in place. He could not get past all the questions swirling in his head as he listened to the second hand on the clock tick.

Why me?

Tick.

Why now?

Tick.

What next?

Tick.

Every second in that bed meant no football, and no football meant no NFL, the only dream he’d ever had. Even as he laid there, having suffered an injury on the football field most commonly seen after high-speed car wrecks, the draft was a first-level concern. That was nothing new. Max’s dad, former NFL quarterback Brad Johnson, remembers driving a young Max and two friends when they started talking about what they wanted to be as grown-ups.

Max turned to his friends and said, “I’m No. 14. I’m going to be like my dad.”

So, despite the anger, frustration and disappointment, despite the months of excruciating surgeries and rehab ahead of him, he knew, in that hospital bed, that his dreams had not changed. He was no quitter.


NEVER QUITTING IS part of the Johnson family mythology. Brad began his college career as a third-string quarterback at Florida State before working his way up the depth chart to start. The Vikings drafted him in the ninth round in 1992. Again, he was buried on the depth chart. But he played 17 seasons in the NFL and won a Super Bowl with Tampa Bay. There is a photo from the postgame celebration: Johnson has his back to the camera, holding his 18-month-old son. Max looks into the camera, a slight smile forming, as a crowd envelops them.

Everybody in the family is athletic and competitive. Nikki Johnson, Max’s mom, played volleyball at South Florida and set school records for kills, digs and hitting percentage. Her sister also played volleyball, and her brother, Mark Richt, played quarterback at Miami before eventually coaching at Georgia and Miami.

Max has always held onto hope. Brad tells a story to that point. Max was in sixth grade; Brad was his coach. They were down 16 points with 12 seconds to go. Brad was ready to run out the clock, but Max would not have it.

“I swear he yelled at me because the game wasn’t over,” Brad says. “He’s that kid that believes the game is not over until the clock hits double zero.”

Max grew into an elite quarterback prospect in the class of 2020, signing with LSU out of high school. He played in six games as a true freshman and made two starts, then started all 12 games in 2021. But then-coach Ed Orgeron was fired, and Johnson transferred to Texas A&M to play for then-coach Jimbo Fisher. But multiple injuries marred his two seasons with the Aggies, and Fisher was fired there, too, leaving Johnson with another decision after the 2023 season. North Carolina under then-coach Mack Brown seemed the best choice for him to get to the NFL.

“I think it was really big for me to watch Sam and Drake over the last few years under Coach Brown light it up, make plays with their legs, and I feel like that could do that,” Max Johnson says. “I wanted to play one year and go pro. That was my plan.

“Then the injury happened.”


THIRD-AND-10 FROM THE North Carolina 33, late third quarter. North Carolina trails Minnesota 14-10. Johnson drops back to throw a backside curl route. As he releases the ball, Minnesota cornerback Justin Walley hits him on a blitz and starts to take him down to the ground. As Johnson begins to land awkwardly on his right leg, pinned under Walley, Darnell Jefferies hits him high.

Johnson says he remembers being on the ground, staring at the dark night sky. He felt indescribable pain. It was hard to breathe. Then and there, he knew his season was over. He said he believed he had torn a knee ligament.

Frustration and anger set in. Trainers asked if he could get up. Johnson said no. When they picked him up to assist him off the field, Johnson felt his femur shift out of place and his foot dangle. He knew then his leg was broken.

Johnson made it to the sideline, but the pain was too intense to make it to the locker room. The cart came out, and all Johnson remembers is the pain. Teammates came over to give him words of encouragement. His brother, Jake, a tight end on the team, told Max he loved him.

As he made his way off the field, Johnson thought about giving a thumbs-up to show he was OK. But he was not OK. Brad and Nikki, watching from the stands, had no idea how badly Max was hurt. But they knew something was terribly wrong when the cart came out and they began to make their way down to the tunnel to find him.

Trainers tried to put on an air cast, but the pain was too intense. They gave Johnson morphine, but he still felt pain every time the broken bone shifted inside his leg, a sensation Johnson described as “flopping back and forth.” The ride to the hospital was horrible, every bump more painful than the last.

Once he arrived, he was placed on a hospital bed. He couldn’t help but ask for the score of the game. Backup Conner Harrell had led North Carolina to a 19-17 victory.

The doctors told Johnson, still in his football gear, that they needed to take him back for an X-ray. They cut off his uniform, pads and all. Johnson sat there in his underwear, sweaty and bloody, crying, in a daze.

The X-ray confirmed the broken leg. He also had to hold his bones in place during that process. You can see his right hand in the image, holding just underneath the bone.

By this time, his parents had arrived at the hospital from the game. UNC trainer David Mincberg was there as well. Jake also asked to go to the hospital, but his parents told him it would be best to go back with the team to Chapel Hill.

Because it was so late in the evening, Johnson would have to wait until morning for surgery. To help keep the bone in place through the night, Johnson had a hole drilled through his tibia, where doctors inserted a string and attached a five-pound weight, which hung off the side of the bed. Max’s parents and Mincberg slept in chairs in his room, refusing to leave him alone.

Dr. David Templeman, who performed the surgery at Hennepin County Medical Center, said he had never seen an in-game injury like that to an athlete. During surgery, Templeman inserted a metal rod that ran from Johnson’s hip to his knee to stabilize the injury.

After the surgery, Johnson realized his leg felt numb and started to panic. Doctors came in and started touching his feet. Johnson saw their demeanors shift from mild concern to outright worry. The initial operation had caused pressure to build up in his leg, a problem that sometimes occurs after surgery. Johnson feared amputation was a possibility, but Templeman says his team was able to react quickly enough to avoid that scenario.

To ease the pressure that had built up, doctors placed a wound vacuum in Johnson’s leg to help reduce swelling. Johnson would undergo other surgeries — he’d have five in total — to close the wound once the pressure eased. But he also had to get up and start walking to not only avoid blood clots but to start restoring the function of his leg.

Johnson initially needed multiple people to help him out of bed. His mom held the vacuum attached to his leg while Johnson held onto a walker. He took 12 steps, turned around and took 12 steps back.

“I was absolutely gassed. The most tired I’ve ever been in my life,” he said.

Johnson had already lost weight, and his hemoglobin levels had deteriorated so much that he needed a blood transfusion. Templeman told him it could take months to a year for full feeling to return in his foot. Johnson hated it when anyone touched his feet, but that was about to change.

“I’m not kidding you. I must have touched that kid’s foot 1,000 times,” Nikki Johnson said. “I know this is not scientific, but I will stick by this: Touching it and moving it and rubbing it helped those nerves regenerate. I believe there was some supernatural healing there. Maybe that’s just what I want to believe. But the doctors were amazed that his feeling and function came back so quickly.”

Max stayed in the hospital nine days. Despite the ordeal, the Johnsons asked repeatedly whether he could play football again. Templeman said, “Hopefully.” The Johnsons said they were given a recovery timeline of six months to a year.

“That’s all we needed to hear,” Nikki said.

Johnson knew injuries like this were exceedingly rare in football players, and only a handful had ever come back to play. So, obviously, he gave himself just six months to make it back.


AFTER LEAVING THE hospital, Johnson stayed in Minneapolis until doctors cleared him for air travel back to Chapel Hill. The family stayed with Brad’s friends from his time with the Vikings.

Max had yet to shower since the injury. But the shower was up the stairs, and he could not bend his bandaged leg. Max broke into a cold sweat debating whether to attempt the stairs or not. He begged his parents to help him. They relented.

He was able to make it up four steps before taking a break. Then he went up another four steps before stopping for another break. It went like this until he made it to the top … an hour and a half later. Max was wiped out.

When he finally got into the shower, he sat in a chair, his leg wrapped and sticking out the open shower door. He sat for 15 minutes, water finally washing him clean. “One of the best feelings in my life,” he says.

When he was done, he realized he now had to make his way down the stairs. It was easier to get down but still took time and an enormous amount of effort. Max needed help to do everything, from using the restroom to getting dressed and undressed every day. He felt like a child again.

Mincberg stayed the entire time, often doing shopping runs to stock up on clothes, food and other necessities for the four of them. His parents took care of him day after day, without hesitation. “They became my best friends,” Max says.

The following Saturday, he put on the UNC game against Charlotte and tried to figure out the offensive game plan just to keep his mind occupied. On Sept. 11, Johnson saw Templeman for a follow-up appointment and was cleared to return home. UNC sent a charter plane to bring Johnson, his parents and Mincberg back to Chapel Hill.


MAX GOT BACK to the apartment he shared with Jake. His parents rented one in Chapel Hill to continue to help. Nikki, Brad and Jake did whatever Max needed — from cooking to cleaning to helping him get from one appointment to the next.

Max could not drive, nor could he attend class in person because he was unable to sit in chairs. He also remained away from the team. The first few weeks home were a slog. He had trouble sleeping and would get about only two hours at a time. Sometimes he would stay awake all night.

He remembers one day he wanted to try to work out in the gym in his apartment complex, just to feel active again. He used his crutches to make it there. He picked up seven-pound weights and did curls to an overhead shoulder press. After 15 minutes, he was exhausted. It took him 25 minutes to get back to his apartment.

He still felt angry and frustrated, unable to play the sport that made him feel complete. The doubts about his future were there constantly. Max relishes his ability to run, because most people assume he’s slow. He ran a 4.6 in the 40-yard dash. Would he ever gain back that speed? And even if he did, it was a near certainty he would face another quarterback competition, just as he had every other year he spent in college.

In late September, he took out his journal and started writing, letting go of his anger. He realized the injury gave him time to slow down, rethink his values and remember why he plays. He grew stronger in his faith and his conviction he would play again.

The mindset shift did not lessen the reality of his situation. Even if Max made it all the way back to the football field, there still might not be an NFL future. He pressed on nonetheless.

Eventually, he was able to go to one team meeting a week, where he had a special chair that allowed him to sit. He used FaceTime whenever he could. In October, Brad drove Max to one of his rehab appointments. He waited in the car for Max to finish and fell asleep, but then awoke to a knock on the window.

“Dad! I can walk!”

Brad got out of the car. Max took eight steps without his crutches. They cried.

Part of his initial rehab was simply focusing on bending his leg and perfecting his walking form. Max would stare at himself in the mirror, his right leg thinned out compared to his left. He had to work on making sure he was not putting too much pressure on his left leg to compensate for the injury to his right.

The bone was still broken, so he felt constant pain. But Johnson says to return to football form, he could not wait for the bone to heal completely.

“If you don’t walk on it in a certain amount of time, then the bone will never really heal back to where you want it to be,” Johnson says.

Eventually, Johnson started walking on an underwater treadmill. Around Thanksgiving, he transitioned from walking to slowly running on the same machine. There would be more challenges ahead. Brown was fired as coach before the final game of the regular season. Johnson faced the prospect of playing for a fourth head coach and sixth offensive coordinator, without knowing whether he would be healthy enough to compete for a starting job in 2025. Uncertainty filled the first weeks of December.

But Johnson remained adamant he wanted to play a sixth season, and that he wanted to stay at North Carolina.


IF YOU HAD told Max Johnson in high school that he would play for three coaches who won a national championship and one who won six Super Bowls, there is no way he would have believed you.

Transferring for a third time after the coaching change never entered his mind. The thought of playing for the coach who was with Tom Brady in New England excited Johnson. The two had an honest conversation about where Johnson stood after Belichick arrived on campus. Asked why he decided to give Johnson a chance, Belichick says simply, “Why not?”

The truth is, Belichick owes Johnson nothing. Coaches taking over programs flip rosters to fit their needs. The current Tar Heels roster features more than 40 transfers and 17 true freshmen, including ESPN300 quarterback Bryce Baker. Though Johnson was injured, he had been playing college ball for longer than every other player in the quarterbacks room and could provide valuable knowledge and steady leadership as he worked to return.

The rehab was going slower than Johnson had hoped. Initially, he wanted to be ready in time for spring football in March. But he was not fully healed and could not run and cut the way he needed to.

North Carolina had a decision to make once spring practice wrapped in April. Given the uncertainty around Johnson and the departure of quarterback Ryan Browne to Purdue, North Carolina signed quarterback Gio Lopez from South Alabama. Johnson says he understood.

“I get it. You have to go in the portal,” Johnson says. “I didn’t know if I was going to be ready. They didn’t know. They asked me those questions. I’m telling them I’m going to be ready, because I know myself. But it’s tough from their point of view because it’s like, ‘OK, we’ve got to make a business decision.'”

Johnson welcomed Lopez without reservation, helping him get up to speed with the offense.

“I transfer in, we’re both competing for the spot, and people paint this narrative like they must not like each other. Me and Max are actually great friends,” Lopez said. “He’s been super helpful with the offense. There’s no second agenda with him, where he’s trying to throw me off. He’s been great.”

Johnson worked every day, three hours a day, not only with his physical therapy but other forms of rehab, from scar tissue massage to electric stimulation.

“He never took a day off,” Jake says. “I know having a career in the NFL is his dream, and he’s not going to let [anything] stop him.”

Finally, several weeks after spring practice ended, Max was able to fully drop back with no pain. Max says that moment was “probably one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt.”

Johnson says his leg is fully healed and he is “ready to roll” for fall camp. He says he did every run and every lift with the team this summer and feels as good as he did last year. Templeman and the staff at the hospital have been amazed by his progress.

“Out of all the people I’ve taken care of in my career, he’s probably in the 100th percentile for [getting] healthy,” Templeman said. “It’s exceptional even within the realm of being an athlete.”

Now that fall camp has started, Johnson says the coaching staff told him he would be given a fair shot to win the starting job. Whether he does remains to be seen as the season opener against TCU on Labor Day inches closer.

“It’s not us picking them, it’ll be that player earning it — then we’ll decide on that,” Belichick said the day fall practice began. “If it’s clear-cut, then that player will be the player. If it’s not clear-cut, maybe the competition will continue into the early part of the season.”

Asked what he hopes for this season, Johnson says, “I want to play.”


MAX STILL KEEPS the white No. 14 Carolina jersey he wore in the opener last year, cut down the middle, as a reminder not only of how far he has come, but how much putting that jersey on means to him. There might be those who wonder why he would put himself through the agony of nearly a year of rehab without any guarantee that he would play again. Johnson has a quick retort: Nothing in life is guaranteed, so why not spend each day doing what you love?

“When it’s in you and something that you enjoy, you can’t listen to the noise of what someone else thinks,” Brad says. “It has to be your passion, your dream. You have to look back on your story and have no regrets. The chance for him to have the ball in his hands, the feeling of calling the play in the huddle, the feeling of the game, it matters.”

For now, Max is not listed among the quarterbacks to watch for the 2026 NFL draft. ESPN NFL draft analyst Jordan Reid said there’s a “wait-and-see approach,” not only because of the injury but because it’s not known yet how much he will play.

But Max sees his dad as the perfect example — someone who overcame his own roller-coaster college career to not only make it in the NFL but persevere and find a way to win at the highest level.

“I want to play football,” Max says. “That’s what I want to do. I’ll never give up.”

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Cards’ Contreras out with foot contusion after HBP

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Cards' Contreras out with foot contusion after HBP

ST. LOUIS — Cardinals first baseman Willson Contreras was not in the lineup Wednesday against the Colorado Rockies a day after he was hit in the foot by a pitch and broke his bat in frustration.

Contreras, listed as day-to-day with a right foot contusion, was hit by Rockies starter Kyle Freeland‘s sweeper in the fourth inning. He then slammed his bat into the dirt and snapped it over his knee.

As he walked toward first base, the 33-year-old threw the two pieces of the broken bat toward the Cardinals’ dugout.

He remained in the game until the sixth inning, when he was replaced by Nolan Gorman.

The Cardinals said X-rays did not reveal any structural damage in Contreras’ foot.

Contreras has been hit by a National League-leading 18 pitches this season, trailing only Randy Arozarena and Ty France.

Contreras leads the Cardinals with 16 home runs and 65 RBIs.

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Rangers’ struggling García to IL with ankle injury

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Rangers' struggling García to IL with ankle injury

ARLINGTON, Texas — The Texas Rangers put struggling slugger Adolis García on the 10-day injured list with a sprained left ankle and activated outfielder Evan Carter.

Texas, which is chasing an American League wild-card berth, made the moves their series finale against the Arizona Diamondbacks on Wednesday.

Another outfielder, Wyatt Langford, was held out of the lineup because of forearm stiffness, but manager Bruce Bochy said he could be available to pinch-hit.

García is hitting .224 with 16 homers and 64 RBIs in 116 games. He hit .176 (6 for 34) during the nine-game homestand that ended with Wednesday’s game.

Carter, who turns 23 later this month, missed 10 games because of back spasms. He was in a 4-for-34 slump when he was placed on the IL on Aug. 2. He hit .238 with four homers and 21 RBIs in 55 games before then.

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