One night last October, Deebo Samuel woke up at 2 or 3 a.m. unable to stop coughing. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he had a game to play. He figured an oxygen mask and an IV would restore him. He received the treatment in the San Francisco 49ers training room, headed out for warmups and realized he may not be fine. “I just couldn’t breathe,” Samuel said. “I couldn’t move.”

Samuel got another IV before kickoff, still hopeful, still willing to risk his body for the 49ers — the same heedless ethos that drove him during a career of sprinting into the middle of defenses or playing running back as a side gig. Four or five plays into the game, Samuel staggered back to the sideline and told his coaches, “Something ain’t right.”

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