In the high-stakes world of NFL coaching, where every decision can turn the tide of a game, Buffalo Bills head coach Sean McDermott has always been known for his strategic mindset and unyielding commitment to his team. Yet, away from the gridiron, McDermott is channeling that same tenacity into a deeply personal fight against an invisible adversary: skin cancer. In a move that underscores the power of public figures in health advocacy, McDermott has joined forces with The Skin Cancer Foundation, a leading nonprofit dedicated to reducing the incidence of this pervasive disease through education, research, and prevention. This collaboration arrives as a beacon of hope, reminding us that even the most routine exposures to the sun can harbor hidden dangers, and early action can rewrite fates.
Skin cancer stands as the most common form of cancer globally, affecting millions each year with a subtlety that belies its severity. According to experts, ultraviolet radiation from the sun is responsible for approximately 86 percent of melanoma cases and 90 percent of nonmelanoma skin cancers, yet simple daily protections can slash those risks dramatically. McDermott’s story adds a layer of intrigue to this statistic—how does a man whose professional life demands hours under the relentless sun transform his vulnerability into a platform for change? His partnership with the Foundation isn’t just an endorsement; it’s a calculated play to amplify awareness, leveraging his influence over a fanbase that spans generations and lifestyles.
McDermott’s journey with skin cancer began long before the headlines, rooted in a family history that whispers warnings from the past. As a fair-skinned individual with blue eyes and a career spent outdoors, he has faced the disease head-on, undergoing treatments for precancerous lesions and nonmelanoma skin cancers on more than a dozen occasions. “My job entails being outside on the practice field with our team,” McDermott shared in a candid video produced for The Skin Cancer Foundation. “Because of that, I feel like I’m exposed to the sun even more than normal, so I want to make sure that I’m doing everything I can to protect myself.” This routine exposure, coupled with youthful indiscretions like skipping sunscreen in pursuit of a tan, turned what could have been minor risks into a lifelong vigilance. Now, at 51, he approaches his skin checks with the precision of a defensive coordinator diagramming plays, snapping photos of hard-to-see spots and consulting his dermatologist regularly.
What elevates McDermott’s advocacy to something profoundly moving is the shadow of loss that drives it. In 2009, he lost Jim Johnson, the legendary defensive coordinator for the Philadelphia Eagles and one of his most influential mentors, to melanoma at the age of 68. Johnson, whom McDermott describes as “one of the best in our business, and still is remembered that way,” had battled the disease fiercely during McDermott’s formative years with the Eagles. The grief from that chapter lingers, fueling a resolve that extends to honoring another colleague, Washington Commanders head coach Ron Rivera, who has been fighting squamous cell carcinoma. These connections aren’t abstract; they are the human threads weaving McDermott’s narrative. During the NFL’s “My Cause, My Cleats” campaign in 2020, he custom-designed cleats emblazoned with “JJ” for Johnson and “RR” for Rivera, turning a game-day accessory into a silent tribute that spoke volumes to those paying attention.
The Skin Cancer Foundation sees in McDermott a perfect ally, one whose authenticity can pierce through the noise of everyday life. “By working with Sean, our skin cancer prevention message will get out to more people who really need to hear it—and we will save more lives,” stated Deborah Sarnoff, MD, president of The Skin Cancer Foundation. “We look forward to a long and enduring partnership.” This endorsement carries weight, as the organization has long championed proactive measures that McDermott now embodies. Through joint initiatives, including public service announcements and educational videos, they aim to demystify prevention, making it as routine as lacing up for practice.
At the heart of this effort lies practical wisdom, the kind that turns statistics into actionable steps. McDermott dispenses advice with the straightforwardness of a post-game debrief. Every morning begins with broad-spectrum SPF 50 sunscreen, reapplied religiously during those grueling training camp sessions that stretch into the afternoon heat. He swears by protective clothing—long sleeves, wide-brimmed hats, and UPF-rated gear—that shields without sacrificing mobility. “Listen, not a lot of people like wearing sunscreen,” he admits with a relatable chuckle. “I know I certainly don’t enjoy wearing sunscreen. It was a constant tug of war for me, especially when I was a kid. But I came to learn that it’s very important.” For self-exams, he urges vigilance: mirror checks for exposed areas, enlist family for the back and scalp, and never ignore a changing mole. “For hard-to-see areas like the back, behind the ears, top of the head, I use my phone to take pictures and then send them to my dermatologist,” he explains, a tip that democratizes professional oversight.
This partnership arrives at a pivotal moment for public health discourse, especially as outdoor activities rebound post-pandemic and summer sun-soaked traditions beckon families back to beaches and barbecues. Men, in particular, bear a disproportionate burden—accounting for over half of invasive melanoma diagnoses and nearly twice the deaths—often due to lower adherence to sun safety protocols. McDermott’s voice cuts through that demographic divide, his sideline cred making the message stick. Imagine a Bills tailgate where fans, inspired by their coach’s story, slather on sunscreen alongside their blue-and-red face paint; it’s this ripple effect that the Foundation envisions.
Beyond the personal, McDermott’s collaboration highlights a broader truth about resilience in the face of unseen threats. Skin cancer doesn’t discriminate by jersey number or zip code; it thrives in the overlooked moments—a weekend hike, a child’s soccer game, the daily commute with windows down. Yet, its conquerability offers a counter-narrative of empowerment. Early detection boasts a five-year survival rate nearing 100 percent for many forms, a figure that transforms dread into determination. By sharing his “uphill battle,” as he calls it, McDermott invites others to join the defense, fostering a community where vulnerability becomes strength.
As the Bills gear up for another season of contention in the AFC East, McDermott’s off-field playbook expands the conversation on wellness. His wife, Jamie, lightheartedly dubs it his “challenge in life,” a nod to the everyday heroism in persistence. Through this alliance with The Skin Cancer Foundation, McDermott isn’t just coaching plays; he’s scripting a legacy of prevention that could spare countless others the pain he knows too well. In a world quick to celebrate touchdowns, this quiet crusade reminds us that the real victories often unfold under the sun’s watchful eye. For those touched by his words, the call to action is clear: protect today, thrive tomorrow. After all, in the game of life, the best defense starts with awareness.
