He’s a man who has everything: a great family, financial security and the respect of his community and his teammates. That last part explains most of the tears. Walking away from a life in professional sports is far more than simply saying goodbye to a career. It’s the end of a lifestyle, and it’s the end of most of the relationships you’ve built for the last 10 years.

Don’t get me wrong, Minter will stay in touch with the men who were his teammates. That’s the hard part: They “were” his teammates. No matter how much he’s loved, or how much he contributed, Mike Minter no longer shares the fox hole. He no longer shares the grind of two-a-days at training camp, no longer shares in the locker room culture that only pro athletes truly understand.

It’s more than the fact that they really do spend more time with their teammates than their “other” family. They share the burdens of a life that punishes your body and tests you in ways that most of us will never understand. Your teammates are the only ones who can really grasp it, and now all you have to contribute are stories about the old days. For the better part of 10 years, Mike Minter was the man. When he walked into a meeting room or the locker room, his teammates knew it, and they knew where his status ranked – at the top of the pyramid. But not anymore.

Would you be willing to take an injection from a 6-inch needle so you could play on Sunday? When you knew that would only make a bad injury worse? Would you play a football game on a broken foot? Mike Minter did play on a broken foot, and that elevated him in that locker room culture. Who’s willing to sell out for the good of the team? Mike Minter. For 10 years. In more consecutive games started than anyone in team history. But not any more. The body that provided so much has finally failed, and there is no return.

Minter’s teammates cried too on Tuesday. Some cried for reasons they probably don’t fully understand. They sat in their chairs and looked at their own future. The end of their careers, and their own football mortality. If it can happen to Mike Minter, it can happen to anyone. And it does. Time catches up to them all, and when it does, they’ll never be part of that kind of team again. In a room of 53 brothers, now Mike Minter is an outsider.

Most NFL players don’t play long enough or well enough to get a retirement news conference. That is a privilege earned by a fortunate few, reserved for athletes who have made a lasting mark, and paid the price for it. Panthers safety Mike Minter earned every bit of his 40 minute farewell on Tuesday.