by Garret Kramer
The recent drunk driving incident (and others) in the NFL has really got me thinking about the policies set in place by professional leagues and teams to counteract the wayward behavior of athletes. The NFL, for example, has a policy called “Player Protect“—a 24-hour car and/or security service for players to turn to, if they are ever in need. Rookies are also put through training specifically designed to point out all the pitfalls and temptations rampant in professional sports. The question that many of you may now be asking is: why are these programs not working?
A career in pro sports cannot lead to errant behavior.
This morning, I heard the following explanation: “Pro athletes feel entitled, invincible; they’re just selfish.” Indeed, many people actually believe that life in pro sports has the ability to make someone arrogant, egotistical, or even paranoid. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, this line of thinking is one of the reasons why these “behavioral” policies exist in the first place. And it is these policies that actually exacerbate the very concerns that they are attempting to guard against. Here’s why:
Behavioral policies cry out to a player that their experience (life in the NFL, NHL, etc.) is the source of their current state of mind. If a player is feeling depressed, agitated, or unworthy—well, that’s what life in the NFL will do to you. This being the case, it’s perfectly understandable that players would seek coping mechanisms (drinking, gambling, sex, violence, gun possession, even suicide) for relief. However, in truth, the opposite is the case—a person’s state of mind, or mood, is 100 percent the source of his or her experience. When a pro football player’s mood is low, life in the NFL will appear bleak; when his mood is high, life in the NFL will be paradise. All human beings experience varying moods; these moods are the cause for our view on life—not the effect.
An athlete’s troubles are a direct result of his mood, never the circumstance of his life.
Now, if a football player (or any of us) grasps this understanding he will insightfully see that it is his own mood and thoughts that are temporarily creating turmoil—not life in the NFL. When we are in a low mood, what we “see,” think, and feel is not real. So if we act from this erroneous place—we will undoubtedly trip. Once a player learns to distrust his thoughts and feelings when he is in a low mood, he will no longer seek refuge in the external band-aid of delinquent behavior. Thus, a smooth journey he will find.
I firmly believe that this paradigm is what the leagues should be teaching in their programs, not behavioral counseling or intervention. Human beings intuitively understand how to move through their own errant thoughts, but will always fail if fault is placed on external events or circumstances. When we attempt to fix issues that crop up when we are in a low mood, we only take ourselves further into despair. I ask pro athletes (and leagues) to take note of this truth and openly reflect on it. Then, watch what happens to those issues once your mood changes—I can virtually guarantee you’ll be feeling better, on and off the field/ice/court, in no time.