It Was Hell’: Brock Purdy Describes the Darkest Days of His Rehab Journey and the Moment He Knew He Could Lead the 49ers Again

Brock Purdy was counted out before the season even began.
After suffering a torn UCL in his throwing arm during the NFC Championship game, he underwent Tommy John surgery — a procedure more commonly associated with baseball pitchers than NFL quarterbacks.
Whispers filled the league.
Doubt ran rampant.
Could Mr. Irrelevant make it back?
Could he still throw with the same velocity, the same poise, the same magic that carried the San Francisco 49ers on an unlikely playoff run?

In a brutally honest and emotional interview on Bussin’ With The Boys, Purdy opened up about what the months following surgery were really like.
Not just the rehab.
But the isolation.
The mental weight.
The fear of falling from a rising star to just another injury story.

“People see the recovery videos, the hype,” Purdy said.
“But they don’t see the 3 a.m. ice baths.
They don’t see the times I couldn’t grip a football without pain.
There were days I asked myself, ‘Am I ever going to play again?’”

For a player drafted last overall in 2022, the climb had already been steep.
Purdy wasn’t supposed to be QB1.
He wasn’t supposed to lead a team, win playoff games, or become a fan favorite in one of the most pressure-filled markets in football.
And then his body broke down — right when the dream was becoming real.

Tommy John surgery is no small thing.
Even for MLB pitchers, recovery can take 12 to 18 months.
For a quarterback — whose mechanics rely on more than just arm strength, but precision, timing, and fearlessness in the pocket — the stakes are even higher.
“You start hearing people say, ‘Maybe he peaked too soon,’” Purdy shared.
“That I was a fluke.
That the magic’s gone.
I saw it all.
I heard it all.”

He admitted he nearly shut out social media altogether.
“I had to protect my headspace,” he said.
“I was in a place where if I let that stuff in, it would eat me alive.”
Instead, he went all-in on recovery.
He credits his training staff, his family, and a small circle of teammates who never stopped believing in him — even when he had trouble believing in himself.

What hurt more than the pain, he confessed, was the silence.
“The NFL moves on quick,” Purdy said.
“When you’re not on the field, you start to feel forgotten.
I watched training camp highlights knowing I couldn’t throw a spiral past 20 yards yet.
And it killed me.”

But something shifted midway through rehab.
It wasn’t a miracle moment.
It was gradual.
A rep here.
A throw there.
Then came the day he completed a deep post route in practice and didn’t feel a thing.
No ache.
No fear.
Just instinct.
“That was the first time I felt like me again,” he said.

From that point on, the trajectory changed.
Purdy wasn’t just healing.
He was sharpening.
Refining his game.
Mentally preparing not just to return — but to lead.

Week by week, the 49ers’ offense found its rhythm.
Purdy silenced the doubters not with loud declarations, but with precise throws, smart decisions, and clutch performances that defied expectations.
He didn’t look like someone recovering from major elbow surgery.
He looked like a seasoned leader with ice in his veins.

Opposing teams stopped targeting his supposed weakness.
Analysts who once called him a one-season wonder were now scrambling for explanations.
“He’s not flashy,” Purdy said.
“I’m not gonna hurdle three guys or throw off my back foot for 60 yards.
But I’ll get the job done.
I’ll fight for every inch.
And I’ll keep showing up.”

By midseason, the 49ers were rolling.
And Purdy was once again under center — not because of injuries to others, but because he’d earned it.
Because he proved he belonged.

“Coming back from injury, you don’t just rebuild your body,” he said.
“You rebuild your confidence.
And that’s the hardest part.
You start trusting yourself again.
You stop flinching.”

He also revealed how grateful he is for the journey, no matter how painful.
“This was never about proving people wrong,” Purdy said.
“It was about proving to myself that I could still do this.
That I still love this game, even when it hurts.
Even when it tests everything I’ve got.”

And then came the playoffs.
Another run.
Another set of high-stakes moments where he delivered.
Until, somehow, improbably, he was back where the pain started — in the Super Bowl.
But this time, healthy.
Strong.
Prepared.

“To go from a surgical table to the Super Bowl in one year?
It still doesn’t feel real,” he admitted.
“But I know how hard I worked.
I know what it took.”

He didn’t shy away from emotion, either.
“There were days I cried,” Purdy said.
“There were days I wanted to quit.
But every time I looked at that 49ers jersey hanging in my locker, it reminded me why I couldn’t.”

His teammates rallied around him.
Coaches praised his resilience.
And fans who once wondered if Brock Purdy could repeat his 2022 magic now chant his name without hesitation.

When asked what advice he’d give someone going through a similar injury, Purdy didn’t hesitate.
“Block out the noise.
Focus on what you can control.
Trust your people.
And never let someone else decide your ceiling.”

Now, as the NFL world looks ahead to next season, there’s no more talk of Mr. Irrelevant.
No more debates about whether Brock Purdy can play at the highest level.
He’s done more than prove that.
He’s led.
He’s endured.
And he’s earned every bit of respect now being placed on his name.

In the final moments of the interview, he smiled.
“Maybe I wasn’t supposed to make it back,” he said.
“But I did.
And I’m just getting started.”