Disclaimer: Yes, I am incredibly aware of how contradicting this title sounds, just bear with me for my first-hand account and take on the unspoken positions of student-athlete mental health.
MY (NOT SO) SILENT SUFFERING
The position that is every athlete’s worst nightmare, no matter how old you are. Right, left, or center…bench. I had to master all three of these for all five years of my collegiate career. Simply being a bystander, an observer of something that was once my escape, my passion. Standing there each game, as dried sweat from warm ups turned into salt on my skin half way through the first quarter and my throat coated in raspiness as I cheered on the team.
Head up, smile on, don’t cry, they’ll think you’re weak, that’s soft. Cheer, be loud for your teammates. CHEER…such an important word for the bench. Bring the energy, and never let them see you upset… Because you “have everything”, “you’re a division one athlete, why would you be sad” , “who cares if you don’t play, you’re still on the team” , “mental health isn’t really a thing” , “why would you need to put on a face” ?
Well, put on a mask, actually. Because a mask can hide the blood, sweat, mental toll, and tears behind bedroom doors at night and bathroom doors during practice, a face can’t. A mask can hide all of the suffering, frustration, and disappointment that probably over 70% of division one athletes (based on the sample size of athletes I have personally witnessed) face during their college careers. A face simply cannot hide the grief and confusion of the loss of who you thought you were and watch it dwindle quarter by quarter.
As I would think to myself, this was the thing you were supposed to be good at…The one thing that I was praised for in the past decade. As the game clock ticked, I watched everything that I thought was and worked toward slipping through my fingers second by second.
Yes, this is heavy stuff- but, also, just scratching the surface with my story. I am just one of many. Knowing all of this. It is also important to know that these moments and years of these moments saved my life. You can call bullshit on me, as my 18 year old self would read this and say that. I would bash on myself, knowing my potential and athletic gift saying that you are better than that you should be playing. But, these four and a half years taught me to take off MY mask and taught me to be human and a human without lacrosse.
BEHIND THE MASK
Throughout my entire career, I have worn multiple masks as well as hats from the beginning of my freshman year to the end of my senior year. I have been the epitome of the glue guy, a team player; From no play time at all, to some play time here and there, to starting, then back to here and there, and then back to none at all. From playing attack then being moved to attacking mid then defensive mid then just in my junior year, defense. If you are not familiar with lacrosse…those are all completely different positions with different skill sets and conditioning levels.
When someone looks back at my bio in my career they will see a “four time NCAA D1 conference champion” with “four NCAA tournament appearances”. But, for the longest time (and at times still do), I felt like those rings were never mine, they were my team’s. I ‘never played’ so they weren’t mine. That I had made no impact and I had zero business to have my name and number etched into the gold and silver. In my head, I couldn’t claim those championships, that success. Though I had come back from two ACL tears, a shoulder tear, and different a la carte injuries that numbered and taxed throughout the years; I still felt/feel that I had amounted to nothing in my career.
Now, older and (somewhat) wiser, with a month and a half left in my fifth year of eligibility, I look back at my collegiate career and realize that I had truly done more for myself and others then I ever could have imagined. Through this true and genuine sentiment that my younger self was never able to conceptualize: That by riding the bench for three and a half years, I saved my future self to know myself without lacrosse and how to deal with adversity with humility.



FIVE LIFESAVING LESSONS FOR ATHLETE MENTAL HEALTH
The importance of being happy for others’ successes.
Learn to put your ego aside and show up for your people! Understand that your path is your path and your path only. You are supposed to be where your feet are- despite the good, bad, and ugly. Know that you will not always get what you want in life, but you need to learn how to be happy, especially when you are dealt a pair of twos and the person across from you has a Royal Flush.
Filling the role.
Not everyone can be the guy. I played attack, mid, and defense. I had not traveled, been on the scout team, started, and come off the bench. Fill the role in front of you and do what you can with what is given to you. In life, you might not get the partner you want to date or the job that you want. But, you will be presented with other opportunities that may just be better. Do your best with what you can and know that effort in your current role is what truly matters.
Dealing with human beings.
Everyone is extremely different. Bosses, coworkers, friends, family, and partners will all be difficult at different points in your life. Keep a level head and always take the high road. But, still respect yourself and stand up for yourself – if needed. When people are difficult: lead with respect, an open-mind, and above all understanding and kindness.
Loving people where they’re at and giving grace; this includes yourself.
This is everyone’s first time on Earth, including your own. We will all make mistakes and make bad decisions from time to time. Put away your judgement and subconscious bias, give second chances – 6 months can change someone immensely. Just because someone was not a good person once doesn’t mean that they haven’t changed.
You are not your sport & your sport is not you.
Growing up as an athlete, your worth subconsciously starts to become based on how well or how much you play. Your self affirmations and esteem start to ride on the principle of your athletic ability. A lot of people don’t realize how much they base their self worth on a ball and a stick until they start to play at a higher level. The first time you don’t hear your name in a starting lineup or a lineup at all, your identity, and therefore your foundation is rattled. You are so much more than your sport and it took me/ is still taking me years to realize that there is so much more to life than collegiate athletics. You will have a job, a family, and so many other things to live for that you will thrive in because of this adversity.
THE COMPLETE PICTURE
Due to the increased utilization of social media, being a division one student-athlete has been romanticized and promoted. There is a lot that attracts athletes to play at the higher level…fame, glory, and now money.
Unfortunately, the reality is, not everyone can be Caitlin Clark, Charlotte North, Bryce Young, and Cooper Flagg; aka “the guy”. Majority of players that you see on the court, field, ice, or bench are role players. Which will never be a bad thing- even though to the ultra-competitive athlete it would be frowned upon.Talking about the reality of my last four and a half years and naming this article truly took my ego down a peg and I gained a bit more humility because of what I was expecting out of myself as an athlete and what I had expected out of my collegiate experience.
In my opinion, we need to show and hear more about the other side…the hard side. Yes, the 6am film, 7am practice, 8am lifts, and then finally starting your day is hard, but that’s only the physical toll. As athletes, we need to be real about the true grind, which is the mental (health) grind. The mental health grind of the raw emotion most athletes will feel when they don’t play and then going back and doing all the physical taxes despite your play time. As an, almost, retired division one athlete…as an athletic community, I call for all of us to reframe what success looks like in college sports (yes, winning will always be key) and see the true gifts that you have received from your opportunity to play at a higher level. Especially when things aren’t going your way

