Facing rugby’s hard truths about life after the limelight

IThe big, tough, strong and silent type is a bloody myth. We’re all human, and we all suffer.

t’s been a grim week in the rugby world with the tragic death of former Wallaby Dan Vickerman.

And with it has come lots of head scratching and soulsearching about what could and should have been done.

But first we need to set the scene properly. This is about depression, coping, silence and suicide.

It’s a tough topic but we have to tackle the truth, and not shy away from it. That’s part of the problem: silence and pretending there’s no problem. The big, tough, strong and silent type is a bloody myth and it creates expectations in a modern world that are totally unachievable. This approach only heaps more pressure on us.

The reality is we’re all human and we all suffer. I certainly have. I’ve been to counselling before. I struggle to cope and handle pressures at times too. It’s called life. It’s hugely complex and it gets less simple as each day passes.

But back to rugby – the Vickerman case poses some really hard questions about what happens to the game’s stars after they retire.

It must be difficult for these once high-flying players when the money and the adulation are no more. No doubt rugby union bosses, both here and overseas, are working out what they can do in response.

Some players like Richie McCaw and Dan Carter (despite recent drink-driving) are businessmen too. They have brands, businesses and brains beyond rugby. But they’re the exception rather than the rule.

Look at poor Jonah Lomu. His career, and earning power, was cruelly cut short by his kidney disease. NZ Rugby bosses dropped him like a bad habit.

I appreciate that rugby’s resources need to be directed at today and tomorrow’s players, not yesterday’s, but surely there must be a duty of care to them. Our players need help adjusting from the high-life to normality.

Former Scottish international Rory Lamont retired in 2016 and said; ‘‘Coming out of rugby my world pretty much collapsed.’’

So the question really is, is New Zealand Rugby doing enough to help players over that bridge? And is society doing enough?

I have seen this with two of my close friends. Both played professional rugby to a high level here and overseas.

It’s true they led a fancy-looking lifestyle, at least from the outside. They travelled to exotic locations, they partied, they were paid well, they got their way, they were idolised, they hung out with rugby royalty. Everything was done for them.

But it’s a ticking time bomb in many ways because it comes to an end. And not everyone has a plan to cope.

One of my mates had been university-educated and once his playing days were over he stepped back into a town planning role. But he had to start from the bottom. Rugby had dominated his life. And once professional rugby was over he had to start his life again in many ways. He’s done well and I’m proud of him.

My other mate made good money in Japan and here playing Super Rugby but once that was over he was on his own. He’s suffered low moments over the past few years adjusting to the monotony of normal life.

He’s now scratching out a career as a coach but I don’t think rugby officials have looked after him – in many ways they have shut the door on him when I think he has so much to offer.

He’s a damn good coach, hugely intelligent, and he should be coaching at a higher level.

Maybe NZR needs to review how they treat former players as part of a wider review on player welfare?

I’m told NZR does good stuff and big improvements have been made with assisting players with financial and career advice. It also offers a confidential help line for players and that’s a great start. Rugby Players’ Association head Rob Nichol is a superb players’ advocate from all accounts too.

But this week should be a sad reminder that these boys aren’t bullet-proof. They’re not rock stars. They’re just like me and you. They are very normal with ordinary struggles.

The silence is killing too many of our young people and New Zealand’s suicide statistics are alarming. Rugby players are no different.

More than 500 people took their lives last year. It’s worse than the road toll – which gets so much coverage. Depression doesn’t have to be a terminal illness but it’s the silence that makes it so.

If I was NZ Rugby, I’d shouldertap All Black legend Sir John Kirwan and put him on the payroll. Put him in charge of the ex-players club and he can be a sounding-board. He’s a brave and truly decent man.

My deepest sympathies to Dan Vickerman’s family. As a lover of rugby, and of life, my heart goes out to his wife and his two little boys who lost their big Dad this week.