San Diego Union-Tribune (Sunday)

PLAYERS PUSH NFL ON WELL-BEING SUPPORT

- BY ANNA KATHERINE CLEMMONS Clemmons writes for The New York Times.

Defensive lineman Solomon Thomas remembers sitting at lunch one day during his rookie season in San Francisco in 2016 and pointing out the 49ers’ team therapist at an adjacent table. “Oh no, we can’t go over there,” he said a teammate told him. “Otherwise, we look like we’re crazy.”

Thomas was surprised. He had played college football at Stanford, where he considered the team very attentive to mental health. But as he experience­d his first NFL practices and orientatio­n meetings, he noticed that the issue was not so big a focus.

Players might have talked about stressful situations, he said, but there was little mention of sadness, anxiety or general check-ins about well-being, and players stayed quiet while trying to succeed in a profession of constant evaluation.

“It’s like you are being judged for everything you do,” said Thomas, now with the Las Vegas Raiders. “Guys are cut, traded and signed every day. As much as you want to say it should be different, it’s hard, because you might open up to someone one day, and they’re gone the next day.”

Thomas’ rookie impression in San Francisco was hardly unique. While some teams had introduced some type of mental health support system, back then there wasn’t a leaguewide protocol to help players deal with the NFL’S next-man-up, just-play-through-it ethos.

In May 2019, the NFL Players Associatio­n and the NFL agreed to form the Comprehens­ive Mental Health and Wellness Committee, a panel of doctors appointed by both groups, which mandated that each team employ a behavioral health team clinician.

Seven teams now have a full-time clinician, and the rest of the clubs employ someone in the role for at least eight hours each week. As a result, more players have taken advantage, and have been more open about doing so.

Their outspokenn­ess is part of a larger trend among athletes who are publicly emphasizin­g that mental health should be prioritize­d alongside physical care. In October, with the Atlanta Falcons’ support, receiver Calvin Ridley stepped away from football to “focus on my mental well-being.”

That week, Philadelph­ia Eagles tackle Lane Johnson disclosed that he had been absent from the team for three games while managing anxiety and depression.

Simone Biles, Naomi Osaka and other major stars have withdrawn from competitio­ns after saying they didn’t feel mentally fit to compete. And for the past several years, NBA players like Kevin Love and Demar Derozan have talked openly about mental health challenges.

But NFL players said the shift within football had been more gradual. The mandated measures are new enough, and the league’s machismo culture entrenched enough, that some players, including Green Bay Packers quarterbac­k Aaron Rodgers, argue that pro football lags other sports when it comes to fostering mental health practices and encouragin­g players to lean into that support.

“I think the NFL is a dinosaur in that respect,” Rodgers said in a September telephone interview. “There’s a stigma around talking about feelings, struggles and dealing with stress. There’s a lot of vernacular that seems to tag it as weakness.”

Baltimore Ravens defensive end Calais Campbell said that he did not feel comfortabl­e talking about mental health when he entered the league in 2008 — “it was something you were afraid to even mention” — but that over his 13-year career he had come to see it as a key to his longevity. “This is a very stressful job full of changes,” Campbell said. “You have to be able to work through that. You need someone to talk to.”

He said having a full-time expert inside the team’s facility makes those conversati­ons easier. Team clinicians offer players a wide range of wellness practices, from holding one-on-one meetings to offering sports performanc­e exercises, meditation sessions and reading material. Sometimes, Campbell said, it’s as simple as a check-in about how the day is going.

“You don’t want there to be this idea that ‘I can’t talk about my mental health unless there’s a crisis,’ ” said Nyaka Niilampti, the NFL’S vice president of wellness and clinical services. “I want to be able to talk about my mental health in a way that’s from a healthy perspectiv­e.”

“I don’t separate mental training from mental health,” said Christophe­r Carr, the Packers’ director of sports psychology and behavioral technician. Carr, who consulted for the team several years before being hired in a full-time role in 2020, said offering a 360-degree approach to players’ needs is vital. Carr teaches courses on mental performanc­e, consults with players’ position groups and meets with them individual­ly, recommends educationa­l programmin­g for players’ ipads and coordinate­s external resources.

Carr stands with the team on the sidelines at games, and he’s in the Packers’ facility every day that the team is. “There’s all kinds of touch points,” he said. “Being in the culture creates open doors to be integrated and helps develop trust.”

Each NFL team works with its clinician to determine what might work best for that organizati­on, deciding whether to hire separate employees for performanc­efocused training and mental wellness or to have a clinician like Carr serve in an allencompa­ssing role.

But the league’s power dynamics, in which treatment is provided through an employer with the power to cut, trade or not start a player, can create another barrier. “There’s an element of a trust factor,” said Ali Marpet, an offensive lineman with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. “I think that’s some of the battle that our clinicians face if they’re employed by the club: These meetings stay here and everything that happens stays here.”

Like Thomas, Dallas Cowboys quarterbac­k Dak Prescott learned the value of talking to a mental health profession­al while he was in college. During Mississipp­i State’s spring semester of 2014, the year after his mother, Peggy, died of cancer, the university recommende­d that Prescott see a psychologi­st.

Initially, he viewed it as a punishment, saying to the therapist: “I don’t have a problem.” Still, his mother had always been the first person he turned to when he wanted to talk. As Prescott sat in the psychologi­st’s office, he realized that it helped to open up.

Before the 2016 NFL Draft, Prescott was arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence (he was later acquitted in the case). The Cowboys chose him in the fourth round, and that September the NFL mandated that he see a psychologi­st unaffiliat­ed with the league once a week, as part of the league’s drug and alcohol program.

“I didn’t realize what it was doing for me then,” said Prescott, who helped lead Dallas to a 13-3 record in his rookie season. “But looking back, that’s why I was able to do what I did.”

 ?? BRUCE KLUCKHOHN AP ?? Aaron Rodgers argues that pro football lags other sports when it comes to fostering mental health practices and encouragin­g players to lean into that support.
BRUCE KLUCKHOHN AP Aaron Rodgers argues that pro football lags other sports when it comes to fostering mental health practices and encouragin­g players to lean into that support.

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