Once upon a time in St. Louis, the pro football conversations in December were about such weighty issues as the pursuit of "Max Q" perfection, the chase for NFL records, which teams would try and steal the offensive and defensive coordinators as head coaches, and the thrill of another Super Bowl hunt.

And now?

Well, all that stuff seems as nostalgic as horse-drawn buggies, disco music and my 32-inch waist line. Now St. Louis pro football conversations in December are depressing exercises that focus only on doom, despair, deep dark depression and excessive misery.

We debate who's going to get fired. We contemplate not if this team can win another game ththis season, but if the offense might be able to score another touchdown. We ponder about draft positions, not playoff byes, we buzz about mounting injuries, not dazzling records.

But most of all we fret about the physical condition of Sam Bradford, who was supposed to be delivering this franchise to the NFL's promised land this season but has instead spent all fall and winter running, ducking, limping and falling. This is not how I envisioned Bradford's sophomore season in the NFL. I imagined he would be taking another giant step in the right direction towards fulfilling his promise as The Face of The Franchise, the reigning NFL offensive rookie of the year and the 2010 No.1 draft pick.

But things haven't worked out that way. He has been injured most of the year, struggled mightily attempting to run a new offense and toughed it out through the most frustrating experience in his young athletic life.

And now, next to all the 'who should be fired' chatter that is mounting beyond the Rams Park gates, Bradford is the center of the biggest St. Louis football debate. For all the pounding that has been inflicted on Bradford — and considering the 2-11 Rams season is lost, the sizable price tag slapped on his helmet (see: $50 million) and, the chance that he might risk further damage to his gimpy ankle — wouldn't it be smart for the Rams to shelve him for the rest of this hopeless season?

If you asked me this question yesterday, I probably would have told you that as long as there was no risk of further injury there's no reason why Bradford shouldn't keep trying to play.

But after hearing Bradford's comments from Wednesday when he talked about how this is the first time he felt like playing in a game with the high ankle sprain caused him to regress, after seeing him on Thursday afternoon — only three days before the next game — still walking around in a restrictive walking boot, after watching repeated slow motion replays of Monday night's game with him obviously laboring to step into his passes (plus watching him risk life and limb while his pass protection crumbled around him from repeated blown assignments and physical mismatches), I'm inclined to change my mind.

I would vote to sit him. But here's what I love about Bradford. Every time someone asks him to cast his ballot in this debate, he always casts an emphatic "I'm playing" vote.

This is a great glimpse into his competitive character. He always wants to play, or at least try to get on the field on Sundays. He knows in pro football people always are watching, evaluating and more than willing to raise an eyebrow or two when trying to get the measure of a man. So maybe the offensive statistics have fallen off the edge of the earth in this nightmarish season. But if you can find nothing else that is positive to dredge out of this losing season, perhaps this is it. We've found a locker room full of genuine pros and hardened football warriors who are willing to follow the NFL's unspoken but mandatory code of conduct that requires you to endure all the extreme mental and physical things that are expected of genuine tough guys in this league.

And Sam Bradford is one of the main ones who passed the test, and that is worth a lot in this mad, mad macho world.

"I was really impressed with Sam going out there and trying to lead us to a victory and playing under the conditions of a high ankle (sprain)," running back Steven Jackson said Thursday. "That's a tough injury to deal with and for him to go out there and battle for four quarters and to grit it out, it says a lot for him and it definitely says he's about winning and trying to lead this team. ... Playing with the pain, gritting it out and wanting to lead the team by example and show that you're a winner and about winning. ... It does a lot for him, does a lot for this team, and it does a lot for the community that's watching him."

Bradford has spent most of this season physically handicapped and refused to go to the sidelines without being pushed. He wasn't looking for the star treatment. He wasn't asking to be pampered or looking for a way out of this mess of a season. He has tried to play, begged to play, even when it was obvious that it wasn't a wise idea to do so.

Two weeks ago in San Francisco, he wasn't remotely ready to play but still tried up until the morning of the game to convince coach Steve Spagnuolo he could go.

"But 'Spags' told him no without hesitation," general manager Billy Devaney said before that game. "Sam tried to convince him, but 'Spags' refused to let him do it because he knew the danger was there that he risked re-injuring it to the point where it could not only end his season, but maybe require surgery and risk damaging him long term. But trust me, there's no doubt Sam wanted to play."

This time of year in the NFL, everyone's hurting, everyone's banged up, everyone's playing with an injury that would have forced most sane individuals to seek medical solutions. But the NFL is not a sane environment. You have to be an extreme tough guy to survive in this world in which your body is subjected to the worst sort of physical pounding. In the crazed macho world of pro football, you subject your body to the equivalent of 65 or 70 car wrecks on Sundays, and that's considered normal.

Here's what else is considered normal.

Your teammates expect you to get back out there the following week and do it again, just like they do. It doesn't matter if you're a backup linebacker, a starting lineman or a star quarterback or tailback. As Jackson admits, some guys are pure lunatics and willingly risk the threat of permanent long-term injury for the short-term rush of playing four quarters on NFL Sundays. But there are even more less maniacal warriors who simply understand that mangled body parts are as normal in the NFL work place as a slow computer is in your work environment.

In this lost season, Bradford has proven he's more than tough enough. Now it might be time to preserve him for the future by shutting him down for the rest of the season.