CHARLOTTE — Panthers kicker Ryan Fitzgerald checked in this week with a lot of baggage.

The smile on his face only told part of the story. There was genuine joy, and also relief, and a sense of validation, as if he had finally arrived. But like the makeup of a clown, it also hid a pain underneath, still gnawing at him; it may never go away.

Scars last forever.

And he'll never forget all those steps he took to get to this point.

Literally, and figuratively.

"Yeah, it was lonely," Fitzgerald said softly, and with a shake of his head when asked about the last 18 months of his life.

Even on his best days, his happiest days, Fitzgerald's tone has a tinge of Eeyore, a world-weariness arrived early for any 26-year-old, much less an NFL player used to a life of pampered perks and world-class treatment.

"A lot of lonely walks," he continued, his voice tailing off like a field goal caught in the gales that blow off Lake Michigan. "Sometimes I'd get locked out. Not a lot of fun."

But for a moment this week, for the kicker and the rest of the team's second-year players, all that pain went away.

By reaching Week 4 of their second season, they were finally allowed to take a seat in a golf cart for the quarter-mile ride to and from the practice field behind Bank of America Stadium, ending their days of forced marches like a bunch of Army recruits.

This is what the life of an NFL player is supposed to feel like.

"It feels good to be able to do it legally now," outside linebacker Princely Umanmielen admitted, looking over both shoulders to see if anyone was listening. "I've been doing it for a while illegally. But now we're finally free. We're finally legal."

That's a dangerous game the second-year pass-rusher is playing, and others are more careful.

"No, never, not ever," running back Trevor Etienne, another member of the newly liberated class, said with a grin when asked if he ever snuck a ride when no one was looking. "I would never dream of it."

He's smart, because this isn't as simple as a ride to the practice field. There's a time-honored code, and like all laws, there is an enforcement apparatus.

And that apparatus is Derrick Brown.

As the conscience of the locker room, it's Brown's job to make sure things are done the right way, and in this instance, to make sure no rookies take rides before they're supposed to.

"Just trying to keep some rules around here," Brown said simply, but the sternness of his tone was implicit.

"I've seen him in the summertime, nobody here but a couple of us working out on a day off, and a rookie got on the cart while we're working out," veteran guard Robert Hunt recalled with a laugh. "Like literally in the middle of workout, he was like way over there. And Derrick starts hollering, 'Hey, get out the car.' Crazy. He spots it out. He ain't playing."

Having Brown in charge of discipline is a good deterrent, of course.

And some of them learn more quickly than others.

"I don't need DB on me, or in my pockets," rookie defensive tackle Lee Hunter said, alluding to the system of fines for misbehavior in the locker room or in the team facility. In the kangaroo court world of a bunch of athletes, fines can be levied for anything from sensitivity to walking barefoot into the cafeteria. This is serious business.

This is more of a recent phenomenon, conveying players mechanically to the practice field. Sam Mills walked, at least when he wasn't running past Jake Delhomme. But in a world of efficiency and data, where every step an athlete takes can be measured, players started getting a ride to the practice field. Now they have multiple multi-passenger carts specifically for this purpose, and those seats are treated like first class.

The carts used to be smaller and less frequent; they were quaint, like taxis in a rideshare world. But as long as there have been golf cart rides for players, there has been a pecking order.

When Taylor Moton walked in the door in 2017, showing wisdom beyond his years, he came to a quick realization.

"That cart has Julius Peppers, Thomas Davis, Cam Newton, and Trai Turner on it," Moton recalled. "That is not a place for me."

Over the years, as the fleet of carts grew and they added seats, a code was formalized.

Lawkeepers from Ryan Kalil to Davis to Shaq Thompson to Brown were the ones responsible for maintaining order. These are golf carts, not Vietnam; there are rules.

And most are willing to obey, for either financial reasons like Hunter or simply for ethical ones.

"I always walk," rookie tackle Monroe Freeling said earnestly, as Hunt looked on skeptically. "I mean it, I even had an appointment to be out there at a certain time, and I still walked."

Hunt came here as a free agent, and like Brown, he has the size and financial stability to make his seat on the cart a given. So he's never experienced the walks to and fro. But he approved of Freeling's diligence in following the rules and keeping them in snacks, saying: "He's a good rookie."

"That's just part of learning the NFL and learning how to operate in a locker room, I think," Hunt said. "The boys pass it on to the rookies, and then a young guy like Monroe comes in, you've got to walk, and then next year he'll teach them young rookies what they've got to do."

There are exceptions, of course, if a guy is running a little behind schedule or just doesn't feel like the extra quarter of a mile on his feet. If a coach wants to discuss something with a particular player, they'll walk out together, the way run game coordinator Harold Goodwin and running back Chuba Hubbard did this week. And some guys just like the moments of peace before practice. Bryce Young is rarely on a cart, and if it's a nice day, others will join him.

But there are guys who try to circumvent the passage of time,  trying to catch a ride before they've earned the privilege.

"So I'd say about 90 percent of the guys are willing to adhere to the rules because they're also not willing to adhere to the fine," elder JJ Jansen said. "There is a small subsection of players that are either too rich or too heavy to much care what the rules are, and interestingly enough, at least on the too-heavy category, no one really wants to fine them because that also might mean you'd have to fight them, which isn't any good.

"So, in general, it sort of polices itself, but if you're not sure whether you're allowed on the golf cart or not, you're not. That's the old Steve Smith rule."

(That allusion is to the legend that the former wide receiver would occasionally be a minute or two late for a team plane. Oddly enough, they'd offer him that grace, since he was a dominant force in the league during that time. "If you're not sure if the plane will wait for you, it won't," former head coach John Fox liked to say.)

Over the years, there have been some modifications to the rules. Under the old code, you had to play the fourth game of your second season to become eligible. This week, the Wednesday of Week 4 saw a lot of excited sophomores taking a seat.

"Shaq was a pretty big stickler. He said, 'No, you've got to play Week 4,'" veteran guard Brady Christensen said. "Yeah, there's some vets that take it seriously, and it was like, you didn't ride it when I was first here. None of the rookies rode, ever.

"I think it's a little more lenient now. Kids these days, they've got it so easy."

Some will jump on board, even if they're not supposed to. Again, it helps if you're the kind of rookie who is winning national awards.

But Fitzgerald may be the spokesman for the walking class, because of the way this rule impacted him personally.

Most of his workdays are spent with the 40-year-old Jansen and 36-year-old punter Sam Martin, who always avail themselves of a ride. And on the days they dip out of practice early to come into the stadium and kick, that left poor Fitzgerald trailing forlornly behind them, hoping they left the door propped open so he could get back in the facility.

Until Wednesday.

"He's been smiling every second; it's a big deal for him," Martin said.

"It was huge; JJ and Sam couldn't talk crap about me at practice anymore," Fitzgerald said. "I was there, so they couldn't say it behind my back anymore. So yeah, it was good."

Others, who have more time invested in this system, had different views.

"Yeah, we kind of all threw up a little bit in our mouths, and I don't know that any of us have gotten over that taste quite yet," Jansen deadpanned. "Yeah, it's disappointing.

"Ryan sat in my seat at the front. I like to ride shotgun, whenever possible. Ryan broke that on Day 1. That wasn't very good."

To Jansen's point, the general rules are old has precedence over young, and big has precedence over little (that applies to physical size, as well as wallets). Again, Derrick Brown is not a man to be trifled with.

But while it's a fun diversion on the way to and from practice, it also has a bonding aspect (in addition to the cottage industry of Cart Talk that Jansen has taken to the next level). Some still walk, but especially after practice, everyone's trying to get back into the AC as quickly as they can.

"It goes back to when I was young, you've got to earn your respect in this league; you've got to earn certain privileges," veteran running back and team captain Hubbard said. "We're all grown men at the end of the day, no doubt, but there's certain things that are just football law, and that's just one of those things. So a lot of people get mad about it, especially on the long days. But we've all been there before, so you've just got to abide by it.

"I mean, we definitely enforced it a little more strictly for when I was a rookie. We're a little more lenient on these young cats now. But I definitely remember telling myself when I was a rookie, I'm not getting on a cart, even when I get the opportunity. But that definitely changed."

Asked when he changed his mind, Hubbard laughed: "The first day I got the opportunity."