NFL POINDEXTER: TEARS FOR FEARS NFL players get depressed too? Happens all the time

NFL POINDEXTER: TEARS FOR FEARS NFL players get depressed too? Happens all the time
Vince Young speaking to a team therapist? Big, strong, virile NFL players on anti-depressants? Tears? It doesn't surprise me. At different points in my career, my former teammates exhibited joy, anger, pain, depression—the accoutrement of real life. But I never expected these things, all these human things, would ever be openly discussed as unusual. The talk around Young's issues brought me back to Terry Bradshaw, crying … Crying! … on the air. It was September of '99, and Fox was showing a Bradshaw interview with Brett Favre. The Green Bay QB admitted to drinking too much and partying too much throughout his career. His told how his wife had given him an ultimatum and how he was overcome by the reality of his situation. After the piece aired, and all the Fox guys gave him props for his work, Bradshaw thanked the Favre family for their honesty. Then, to the shock of everyone on the set, he put his head down and wept. A few years after his on-set breakdown, I spoke to Bradshaw. He had just been diagnosed with clinical depression. He told me about the grief he received from crying that day. "Man, people gave me so much crap," he said. "'How could you do that?' I knew what it was like to lose my family. But people don't want to see that side of you." Paul Brown, the founder of pro football, had pondered the use of a mental health professional. So had longtime Chicago Cubs owner, William Wrigley. And that was back in 1929. In 1984, a psychologist named Robert Troutwine took things a little further when it cames to sports and mental health. After building a business that helped companies assess potential employees, Troutwine approached the Kansas City Chiefs with an idea for how he could give them insight into their prospective draft picks. "I knew there was a way to assess college players," says Troutwine. Chiefs coach John Mackovic bit on the idea. But Mackovic's interest, and the organization's interest wasn't so much emotional support, as it was the promise of clairvoyance. "I asked them what they were looking for," says Troutwine. "They wanted to know if I could tell what a player might do in the middle of the night. I told them there was no way to assess that. No test is that specific." Troutwine essentially started what is now called, in vague terms, "player development." Since the early 90's, the NFL Players Assistance program has made counseling available to each player. Each team has three vetted therapists available for support. To get the players comfortable with the idea of therapy, the first four sessions are free. If a guy is married then the first eight sessions are free. "Its high time teams started doing this," Troutwine says. But he thinks the program should go further. He says different people with different issues require different treatment. "There should be a network of people to provide support. You might have a player dealing with relationship issues, in which case you bring in someone who specializes in relationships—like a marriage counselor. Or you might have someone who deals with on field issues." Jeffrey Wildfogel deals specifically with on-field issues. He's what you call a sports psychologist. For the last 30 years, he's specialized in performance-based treatment. He agrees that different mental health folks have different skills. And as such, should not try to solve every problem. "Things get interconnected," says Wildfogel. "Someone will ask me to help him with his marital problems. Well, I don't have experience with that. If it's affecting his performance on the field, then I can help him." While Wildfogel accepted the fact that the playing field was too sacred a place to store negative energy, his patient couldn't accept the reality of his struggle. After one session, he told Wildfogel, "I should be able to do this by myself. If anyone ever finds out I'm working with you, I'll come back here and kill you." Wildfogel says dealing with athletes isn't much different from dealing with non-athletes—for the most part. "People don't like to deal with problems. This might be true of athletes more than non-athletes. How much I'm not sure." But he says that when he works with someone, he never uses the word "problem." He keeps it positive. Wildfogel recalls treating a player for the Oakland Raiders. The guy had some emotional issues that weren't related to football, but they would come out during the game. Wildfogel gave the player a visualization exercise. He told the player to imagine burying his negative thoughts into the field. But the player balked at the idea. "I can't do that," said the player. "The football field is holy ground." While Wildfogel accepted the fact that the playing field was too sacred a place to store negative energy, his patient couldn't accept the reality of his struggle. After one session, he told Wildfogel, "I should be able to do this by myself. If anyone ever finds