Lessons from Junior Seau

The tragic suicide of Junior Seau has created all kinds of discussion in the sports world and medical profession. The fact that Seau played the game with more concussions than even he could count has led to rampant speculation as to why this seemingly joyful, life-filled man would end his life so suddenly.

The part of the larger Seau produced conversation that most interests me centers on the question of how difficult it is for a retired athlete to adjust to life outside of his sport. All kinds of retired athletes from Mike Golic to Lorenzo Neale have weighed in on the perils of adjusting from a regimented, structured life to a wide-open one. They’ve also noted the impossibility of adequately replacing the intense adrenaline rush of the playing field with any suitable alternative.

I’ve listened to these heart-felt arguments with compassion and sympathy. And while I don’t claim any personal experience with the inner lives of professional athletes, I can’t help but think that their transition to retirement has more in common with the rest of the world than many might think.

The basic emotional and ego-driven challenges that accompany retirement are the same for all of us. How do we go from being needed each day to being largely irrelevant? How do we go from having to wake up by a certain time to get to work to not having anyone – at least at work – waiting on us or depending on us? How do we go from being cheered or at least appreciated to being unnoticed and largely disregarded?

Of course we must recognize that athletes go through these complicated and emotionally trying adjustments at a much younger age – often 30-35 years before those of us in the non-athletic world. But they also do so with a lot more money in their bank accounts and with bodies and minds that have a lot more years left in them.

So what do athletes do to adjust to retirement in a healthy fashion? The same basic things that non-athletes must do regardless of their age or relative income level. First and most importantly, they need a dedication to a cause bigger than themselves. It may be a charitable endeavor; it may be church or religious group; it might even be to parenting, grandparenting, or being a Big Brother/Big Sister. Ideally, the retiring person gets plugged into and committed to this larger cause while still working/competing, so that the transition allows him to spend more time and dedicated attention on this already vital endeavor. Think of what Sean Penn is doing in Haiti or what Brad Pitt is doing in New Orleans. They’re both still acting and in the peak of their careers but they have paved the way for more significant involvement in world bettering causes when they can no longer work on the silver screen. A great book to read on this aspect of the retirement transition is Bob Beauford’s Half Time. Beauford was a cable television mogul from Texas who dedicated 100% of his energy in the first 20 years of his working life to making money, to financial success. But he got his wake-up call when he learned that his twenty something son had drowned in a river. This event represented what Beauford would later call a “half-time” experience, when he went into the locker room of life to evaluate where he had been and where he would go with the rest of his life.  He came out of that experience convinced that while the last twenty years of his life had been about being successful, the next twenty or thirty needed to be about being significant – living in a way that improved the lives of others and that made a positive difference in the world. The subtitle of his book Half Time is “Moving from success to signficance.”

Thus my first recommendation to athletes – and everyone else - as they move toward retirement is to consider what cause they are or can be committed to that will allow them to live significantly after their first career is over. Talk to older mentors; talk to pastors or community leaders, talk to other famous athletes or entertainers who are meaningfully plugged into something significant. There is nothing better than a wise mentor to guide you from a success-oriented life to a significance based one.

Second – and this is particularly important to athletes – one must find some way of competing. It probably won’t be in the sport in which you excelled – at least not as a player. But learning a new and intensely challenging sport, such as golf, tennis, or rowing can provide a measure of adrenaline and endorphin release to help your brain and body transition out of full time professional sports. Some former athletes prefer to coach in the sport they know the most about or even to help a youth program in that sport. I have one retired NFL friend who has opened up a CrossFit gym to help train athletes - and ‘wannabies’ like me - who just want to get in better shape. The gym allows him to push himself on a physical plain, while also pushing others in a very competitive yet supportive environment. He goes to various training certifications all around the country to equip himself with new skills and ideas to keep him fresh and progressing as both a CrossFit athlete and coach. Curt Shilling has decided to compete in the business and development end of the video gaming industry, creating and promoting a new video game. This may not be as physical in nature, but it is intensely competitive nonetheless.

Competition is, in many ways, a drug. And like a drug, it cannot simply be walked away from. Competitive environments produce a tremendous amount of brain activity, endorphin release, and glandular production. One should not underestimate the bio-chemical dependency – even addiction – that competition creates. Walking away from that without lining up a healthy, suitable replacement is a recipe for depression.

Third and finally, relationships must become a top priority. While many of us don’t realize it until it is too late, what matters most to us is who we love and who loves us. Rick Warren said it best in The Purpose-Driven Life. He talks about the many people he has sat with during the final moments of their lives, and notes that, almost without exception, what they want to be surrounded with at that moment is their loved ones. He jokes that he has yet to hear a death bed request for a last look at one’s trophies, awards, gold watches, and framed diplomas. What we all want to know as we transition from a career to retirement and from life to death is that we are loved, that we have made a difference in people’s lives.

What so many of Junior Seau’s playing buddies noted in the wake of his tragic suicide was how much they all missed the locker room and the daily relationships with teammates and coaches. Once one’s career ends, whether from the playing field or the boardroom, such relationships aren’t so conveniently provided or available. But that doesn’t mean they are gone. It simply means one must take greater initiative and exert more effort to nurture and continue the relationships that matter.  Unquestionably, such relationships are a lifeline and worth whatever effort is required to sustain them. In Seau’s case, it seems that he kept even his friends at a distance. People who knew him well, like Marcellus Wiley, had no idea that Seau was struggling.  This may have been a result of the macho façade so many men feel they must project, particularly in the sports world. Certainly, learning to be authentic and vulnerable in one’s relationships is a vital skill to carry into or at least develop in retirement. And let’s remember that just as there are football coaches, there are also relationship coaches and counselors out there to assist in one’s pursuit of healthy, supportive, authentic relationships.

Junior Seau’s suicide was tragic. My hope is that it will spur all of us to look carefully and prayerfully at how we are living and whether we are preparing adequately for life after our careers. Finding a cause larger than ourselves, an avenue for continued competition, and a means for honest, authentic relationships are the keys as we transition into retirement.

Free Ozzie Guillen!

Ozzie Guillen has been hammered by the sports media in the last few days because of an off-handed remark he made about Fidel Castro. But if Ozzie has been known for anything in his last 25 years in baseball it is for his mouth, his loose cannon tendencies. In fact, among all major league managers, Ozzie is far and away the most quotable, the most entertaining, and the most apt to say something offensive. Just last week in a New Yorker article about the Miami Marlins, Ozzie was asked by his son what he was going to do for his mom – Ozzie’s wife – on the occasion of their 29^th wedding anniversary. Ozzie’s response – in front of his son and the New Yorker writer – was, “I’m gonna fuck her real good!” This was typical, vintage Ozzie.

So I really don’t get why he is being crucified for his remarks about admiring Fidel Castro. It’s NOT that I don’t understand the offensive nature of his remarks to Cubans who have risked life and limb to flee Castro’s regime. It’s not that I don’t grasp the economics of this situation, where the Miami Marlins have spent millions to bring Guillen to Miami precisely to court the enormous Hispanic and Latin population, far and away Miami’s biggest fan base. But what baffles me is our expectations for Senior Guillen. He is, after all, a baseball manager. He is not a politician. He is not an elected official. He is not a college professor. People need to realize that the average education level of a Major League baseball manager is between eleventh and twelfth grades. It is literally lower than any other professional sports education level.

Charles Barkley had a point when he claimed decades ago that he was not a role model. He was essentially saying, “I’m a basketball player. I get paid to put this ball in a hoop. Don’t expect or ask me to be anything else.” So what are we expecting when we stick two dozen microphones in front of these uneducated mouths? What are we expecting when we follow these athletes around twenty four seven and ask for their comments on things?

Again, Cuban Americans, died in the wool capitalists, and anyone else who cares to are welcome to be offended at what Ozzie said. But I’m not sure they have the right to call for his ouster or to rip him a new one the way they might if he were in a different line of work with a different education level. We ask far too much of our athletes, be they at the college or professional level. Yes, we also pay them far more than we should. But we’re the ones who continue to pay the ridiculous ticket prices and we’re the ones sticking microphones in front of them when the only thing they have ever been trained to do is play meaningless games that the rest of the world does for fun in our leisure time.

Ozzie Guillen is a baseball manager. Taking our political cues from him is like deciding what our position on Syria should be from Lindsay Lohan. Shame on us for our ridiculous and misplaced expectations.

Bounty-Gate

So I suppose it's time I weigh in on the Bounty scandal that is now front and center in the NFL. I’ve heard from and/or read all the experts on this. I’ve had more than my fill of the muscle-headed former NFL players who insist that this paying to mame has been going on forever and is simply an acceptable part of the violent culture that is professional football. So what DO I think about all this?

First, I think that the NFL players who are defending the bounty culture are proving themselves to be even less intelligent than their most critical fans have always assumed football players to be. By insisting that all those outside the game are making too big of a deal out of vicious, bounty-inspired hits and concussions, professional football players are essentially confirming that they truly are the short-sighted, selfish morons that so many non-football players have always assumed them to be. The tough guys crying “enough already!” to the intelligent, concerned dialogue regarding concussions and bounties are far too willing to sacrifice themselves, their brothers in the game, and even their own family’s futures at the altar of a few highlights on Sports Center. Grow up, boys!

Shouldn’t these “professional” athletes be thinking at least a little about what their lives and their family’s lives might be like after they retire? Shouldn’t they do everything in their power not to be brain dead and wheelchair bound by the time they are forty- five? And why isn’t anybody interviewing Brett Farve’s wife or Peyton Manning’s kids to find out how they feel about their husbands and fathers being the subjects of a bounty?

Every time I see Troy Polumalu and James Harrison intentionally use their own heads like battering rams, I realize just how idiotic these gazillionaires are. With all the data and information we now have about concussions and their long-term effects, you simply have to be a moron to play so recklessly and to intentionally injure your fellow competitors that way.

Yes, football is and always will be a violent and dangerous game, particularly when it is played at the highest level. But there is no intelligent argument against controlling and limiting the violence in two very minimal and rational ways: 1) rule changes that protect players’ heads and seriously punish head shots, and 2) doing away with the bounty culture and the outmoded macho mentality that has produced it. I take my hat off to Commissioner Goodell for standing up to this idiocy wherever it rears its ugly, selfish, and short-sighted head.   

March Madness…It’s AWESOME, baby!

I’m a sports nut, plain and simple. I love sports and spend a great deal of time watching them, playing them, thinking about them, and, yes, writing about them. I love the competition, the highs and the lows, the back stories and sidebars, the coaches and the rivalries. But I think what I love most about sports is the fact that when the ball goes up or the puck is dropped, nobody truly knows what is going to happen. Sure, there are always favorites and underdogs; there are always point spreads and supposed to’s. But the reason so many hundreds of millions of us tune in and watch these games season after season is that pretty much anything can happen, and even the smartest sports writers and pundits in the world cannot accurately predict how the ball will bounce.

Of all the contests and events that populate our airwaves, none so beautifully and painfully demonstrates this deep athletic truth than the NCAA Basketball Tournament, otherwise known as March Madness. Where else do you find Lehigh beating Duke and Norfolk State upending Missouri in the same afternoon? Where else does a team like Virginia Commonwealth get ripped by ESPN’s best and brightest for even being invited to the dance, only to then outlast 60 of the other 63 teams, making it all the way to the Final Four?  Where else can a six foot white kid named Brady Heslip drain nine three point shots to get his Baylor Bears into the Sweet 16 for the first time ever?

But it’s not only the upsets and the Davidic triumphs that make March so filled with Madness on the hardwood; it’s also the things the favorites and the Goliaths must go through en route to their “expected” victories. When a top seed like Syracuse finds out the day before the tourney that their starting center is academically ineligible, or the mighty Carolina Tarheels lose both their biggest shot blocker and their lightening quick point guard to injury in the first couple rounds, the drama and pressure gets cranked up even further! Suddenly, lesser known opponents who didn’t think they had a prayer start to believe that maybe – just maybe – this really could be their year.

And then there are the coaches. Nowhere else in sport do coaches have the ability to affect game outcomes the way these 68 men do. The entire complexion and flow of a game can be altered in a single 30 or 60 second time out, and a halftime locker room adjustment can turn a twenty five point deficit into a twelve point victory. From the legends like Pittino, Williams, Boeheim and Calipari to the upstarts named Cronin, Smart, Allford, and Stephens, these type A heart attacks waiting to happen are just as interesting and entertaining as what is going on between the lines.

Most of all, I’m just grateful for this time of the year. I wish I could thank each and every school and team who bring us this amazing event to brighten winter’s waning weeks. Here’s to March Madness. Dicky V got this one right – “It’s AWESOME, BABY!”

A Very Typical Tom Brady Performance: Great but not Greatest

A few weeks ago on this very blog, I argued that Tom Brady was overrated as a QB. (See archive for “Tom Terrific or Tom Completely Over-rated? Some Thoughts on Tom Brady” Jan 11, 2012.) The way he played in Super Bowl 46 supported everything I wrote, and I was not at all surprised by his performance. In fact, in my view, it was a highly typical Tom Brady performance – great but by no means greatest ever.

In very typical Brady fashion, he looked brilliant in stretches, perhaps even superhuman. 16 completions in a row, spanning the last drive of the first half and the first drive of the second. These passes were all in the 7-12 yard range with some YAC (yardage after catch), and they were, for the most part, in no huddle, shot-gun sets. His completions also came with no real pass rush and, in most cases, were delivered to his primary receiver within 2 seconds of the snap.

To his credit, Brady is exceptionally good at this dimension of quarterbacking, and he deserves being spoken of as a “great” quarterback in this context. But he does NOT deserve to be in the conversation for “greatest” quarterbacks for all the other things we saw him do in Super Bowl 46, mistakes which are equally typical when Tom Brady takes the snap.

First and most importantly, he missed – MISSED – four wide open receivers in the fourth quarter alone. Any one of these, had Mr. Brady been on target, could have won his team the game and the Super Bowl championship. Let’s begin with Wes Welker. His “drop” has received a ton of attention, and yet none of the Brady worshipping sports media elite have been willing to state the most obvious point in this instance – Tom Brady threw a “back shoulder” ball to a receiver who was wide open! There was no defender within 5-7 yards of Welker; the only reason to ever throw a back shoulder ball is when coverage is tight and the receiver and QB have agreed on this kind of toss via signals and circumstances. Welker had to turn and rotate his body essentially backwards 180 degrees and time his jump perfectly. Yes, he still got his hands on the errant pass and blamed himself for not catching it, a class move on Welker’s part. But what would have been much classier, not to mention more accurate, would have been for Brady, himself, to stand up and say, “I missed Wes. He was wide open and I put the ball in the worst possible place for him to have to catch.”

But the worst miss on Brady’s part was another downfield throw over the middle to Deion Branch. Branch ran a great route and was just about to enter an expansive window of open field but Brady threw the ball both a half second too early and well behind the streaking Branch. The many replays from a variety of angles showed that he was under no immediate pressure and should have held the ball a bit longer and thrown it with more air under it. Branch, had he been thrown a catchable ball, had the entire left side of the field open and probably would have gotten another twenty yards after the catch, if not a touchdown. In true Brady worshipping fashion, the media has also dubbed this pass a “drop” by Branch, despite countless video evidence to the contrary.

The point here is that when it mattered most, Tom Terrific could not and did not deliver accurate, catchable balls to open receivers downfield. Yes, he can make the 5-10 yard quick deliveries all day long when there is no pressure on him with tremendous accuracy. But he could not do what his team most needed him to do and what Eli Manning did repeatedly in the fourth quarter – deliver the ball accurately downfield to open receivers.

Furthermore, Mr. Brady’s first play from scrimmage in the game was a very poor decision that,  it can be argued, cost his Patriot team the game.  He was under pressure late in the play, and nobody wants Justin Tuck breathing down their neck. And from one’s endzone, everything looks different. But intentional grounding is intentional grounding. Everybody knows the rules and to throw the ball that far from any receiver is intentional grounding. For Tom Terrific to start the Super Bowl in this fashion says something about him, something other than “I am the greatest quarterback of all time.”

One final note about greatness. Greatness in a team sports, to me, requires a genuine team attitude. At the conclusion of the AFC Championship game vs. Baltimore, Sir Brady said the ultimate selfish thing in the very first moment after the game. He chose to say, “I sucked tonight.” True, Tom, you DID suck. But football is a team sport, maybe even the ultimate team sport. In that moment, your team – 53 other guys – just reached the penultimate goal in that sport – a ticket to the Super Bowl. Your TEAM achieved that , albeit in that particular game, in spite of rather than because of you. But a team guy doesn’t focus on himself in such a moment, whether he plays perfectly or horribly. A team guy would have said, “We’re going to the Super Bowl. Our team managed to win ten straight games together, with each guy making a difference somewhere along the line. I am happy for all the guys, especially those guys who have never been to the big game. I wish I had played better, because I didn’t play my best game. But all that matters is that we are a team and that we have plenty of other guys to step up when I don’t.” And if asking Brady to be this articulate in the moment is too much to ask, I suppose he could have just done what Eli Manning did the second time expired in Super Bowl 46. Eli ran out onto the field to find and hug Justin Tuck, who may have been more responsible than Eli for this championship. That is what greatness looks like in a team sport. Maybe Tom Brady can learn a little something about greatness from this year’s run to the Super Bowl. I hope so. But even if he can’t, I hope at least some of the blind Brady worshippers in the sports media can.  

Time to Play Ball! What I look for in Super Bowl 46

Well, we've had two weeks of analysis up the wazoo! Every angle, every perspective, every view of Gronkowski's ankle. I wish the NFL would have the good sense to go back to playing this game one week after the respective conference championships. But it is what it is, and, mercifully, it's almost game time. So what should we look for? What will it come down to?

First, to the extent that the Pats can go to their two tight end sets, that could, very likely, neutralize New York's defensive line advantage. Give Brady that little extra time, that modicum of protection and he could have a game to remember, based on quick slants to Welker and Brown and little screens and swing passes to Hernandez, Faulk, and Green-Ellis.

Next, if the Giants can't run with some combination of Bradshaw and Jacobs, not only will they not win, but they won't deserve to win. These two guys are beasts, but for some reason I can't figure, the Giants haven't fed them consistently throughout the playoffs. Jacobs has been on the bench 95% of the time for reasons I have yet to determine, and Bradshaw has only been moderately effective. So New York has got to get these guys running north-south and averaging 4 yards plus a carry, if they're serious about winning.

Third, let's all be prepared for one or two major Belichick wrinkles. We saw him running Hernandez as a tailback out of the backfield earlier in the playoffs. We've seen him use Julian Edelman and Troy Brown in the defensive backfield. I look for a few plays to target the all-but-retired Chad Ocho-Cinco. I wouldn't be too surprised if Brady even throws a few to  Sebastian Vollmer, the big offensive tackle from Houston, down in goal line situations, as he used to do with Mike Vrabel in days gone by. And then there's Danny Woodhead, captain of the All-Napolean team.

Fourth, we've heard a ton about the Patriots' defensive woes, particularly in the secondary. They'll have their hands full with Nicks, Cruz, and Manningham. And don't forget that the Giants have a pretty solid tight end of their own in Jake Ballard. But Bill Belichick has always been and still is a defensive genius. With two weeks to prepare for anybody, he can find a way to hide his own team's weaknesses and exploit the opposition's. Will he dial up blitzes, stunts with his D-line and backers, or just disguise the heck out of his coverage packages? He has always been the one coach in the league that not only comes up with the great game plan but also makes the mid-game and half-time adjustments that bring home the W.

And fifth, what about special teams? It was this area of the game that cost both the Niners and the Ravens from getting to the promised land. Who gets the special teams edge in Super Bowl 46? Well, in terms of punting, the Patriots have the ultimate field switcher in Zoltan Mesko. He is the league's most consistent and booming punter, in both distance and hang time. But in the field goal game, it is advantage Tynes and the G-men. On the return side, both squads have players who can bust off the long return, but the Giants have coughed up the ball lately. I see no clear advantage here.

Pretty much all of the experts are picking the Giants, and I think that is because man for man, they have more talent on both sides of the ball. But it's all going to come down to how those players play. Who brings it tomorrow from 6:30 to 10:00 pm EST? I'm glad I'm not a betting man, but if I were, I'd probably put my money on...the point spread. Play ball!

Some Final Thoughts on Joe Pa

I'm not surprised that Joe Paterno passed away. In fact, believe it or not, I actually predicted that he would die within a couple months of when the Sandusky scandal first broke. I wasn’t wishing ill or pain on the old coach; far from it. I was feeling a lot of compassion and anticipatory dread for him, knowing what Paterno was about to face. I believed 11 weeks ago and I still believe now that dying may well be a far better option. I dare say that it may even be the case that his bereaved family will come to see Joe’s premature and apparently untimely death as a blessing once the Sandusky case gets revved up, takes center stage, and becomes the lead story on all networks – ESPN included – for literally months on end.

So I do believe that it is a good thing that Joe Paterno died. But it is also a profoundly sad and tragic thing that, as his former quarterback Todd Blackledge put it, he died of a broken heart.

Let me be clear; I don’t accept or condone Joe Paterno’s failure to act and follow up appropriately in the face of the allegations about his long-time, highly regarded assistant coach. He screwed up, and I think it’s entirely possible that the gradual coming to terms with his inaction is, at least in part, what killed him. But let me be equally clear in saying that I don’t believe his tragic mistake or failure to act more thoroughly and definitively should be allowed to cancel out his legacy of 46 incredible years at the helm of Penn State’s football program.

The way this Joe Pa “debate” has been framed since the Sandusky news broke, like so many debates in our American, Cross-Fire culture, has been all or nothing, either or. Is Paterno a hero or a villain; is he a perpetrator or a victim? Why must we Americans be so black and white in how we respond to tragic flaws in our citizens, especially those who happen to be famous.Why can't we see ourselves and each other in various shades of gray?

I remember when John Belushi died in March of 1982. He was my all-time favorite comedian and SNL cast member. As the details of his grizzly and drug induced demise started to come to light, it seemed that the media and the vast majority in America somehow felt he should be discredited as a comedian. It was as if the fact that he had this horrible addiction was supposed to somehow devalue or diminish his comedic contribution to society. I didn’t understand that perspective then, nor do I understand it now in regard to Joe Pa.

Again, I get that he screwed up. I get that a lot of innocent children suffered horrible sexual abuse, at least in part because of Paterno’s inaction and failure to follow up adequately with both university and law enforcement officials. (And again, I believe that Joe Pa “got” this too and that that realization killed him!) But he was still a great football coach. He still made tons of unbelievable and lasting contributions to Penn State football, Penn State University, State College PA, and the list goes on. Acknowledging the gravity of his error should not diminish the magnitude of his contribution. The two can and should co-exist. In fact, they must co-exist.

I don’t know why we Americans are so bloodthirsty and vulture like when one of our own screws up. Where is our compassion? Where is our willingness to look honestly at ourselves and our own sins and shortcomings? Those of us who have screwed up and screwed up badly in our lives, in our jobs, in our relationships and families know that our screw up is not what defines us. It may be a part of who we are, a part of what we’ve done, a chapter in our story. But it is not the whole picture.

My hope and prayer for Coach Paterno and his family is that the country he lives in, the media, the sports community, and the Penn State community will be able to hold in our hands and in our hearts both his coaching greatness and his failure to follow up in this one critical instance, to hold them both, at once...together...simultaneously. So that in the end we can say of Joe Pa what young Prince Hamlet  said of his father shortly after he died, “He was a man, take him for all in all; I shall not look upon his like again.”