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For the past several weeks I’ve been discussing the effects of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE), concussions, and brain trauma on athletes.  I wanted to finish up by talking about the complexity of what is happening in the minds of many athletes suffering from CTE.  In order to do so we must start by looking at the functions of the effected parts of the brain and then place that into the existing psyche of an athlete.  There are three functions of the effected brain that are particularly interesting in this discussion: 1) Emotion and emotion regulation, 2) Empathic response, and 3) flexibility.  I highlight these three because of their importance for the mental stability and health of a person, especially a person who has undergone extreme stress, trauma, and abuse and is trying to transition into a new phase of life.  This last part feels particularly important to note because I believe this may be where we see the impact of brain injury come to life.

Regulation, Empathy, Flexibility

Our brain is divided into different regions that have different functions for our overall health and well-being.  One of the regions of our brain is called our reptilian brain and it is responsible for our most basic needs and desires.  This “reptilian brain” tells us to eat, sleep, have sex, and warns us protects ourselves when in danger (fight or flight).  It is the first part of our brain to develop and we have it in common with all animals.  In comparison, the neo-cortex and limbic system develop later and give us the ability to be controlled, to be mindful (empathetic) and to change our minds (beliefs) among other things.  A subsection of these two latter areas is called the frontal lobe which is located behind our forehead and is connected to other important parts of our brain that narrate emotions and help us understand our identity.  CTE primarily effects the frontal lobe and these surrounding areas of our limbic system and neo-cortex.  The impact of CTE, then, effects some very important facets of our mental health.

I believe the effects of CTE are most visible when a person is going through a season of disruption or transition.  In athletics some of the most notable disruptions and transitions happen when an athlete can no longer perform due to injury or lack of ability.  Through understanding how our mind functions to cope with disruption we get a fuller picture of what an athlete is up against.

In seasons of disruption or transition our sense of who we are comes into question.  Who we have believed we are is countered with evidence to the contrary.  In order to make sense of the ego-dystonic information we are faced with a choice to either integrate this new sense of who we are into our pre-existing identity or we have to protect and barricade our pre-existing identity from a perceived “threat” in order to ensure its’ survival.

[Theological Side Note: The work of integration is often about facing our own idolatry (our belief that we are/can be God).  In facing idolatry, we must come to terms with the frailty and fragility of our humanity in the face of our inability to produce a desired outcome.  In the language of the Apostle Paul, the process of Integration begs us to mentally “die” to self in order that we might be “raised” into a new identity.  The process of mentally dying is something akin to the experience of a depression in that it destroys our hope and ability to imagine goodness and life.  We feel lost, frustrated, and unsure of the point of our lives in the face of a major identity-disruptive event.  However, our desire to avoid this painful process during disruption most often leads us towards an attempt to salvage ourselves and escape our identity’s “death”.  We try whatever we can to hold onto what we believe about ourselves and our identity.  The mental pain involved for an individual will vary depending on how important that aspect of their identity is to their self-worth and perceived value.]

For most athletes their sense of self-worth is directly tied to their ability to perform in athletics.  Sports has afforded them a type of attention and adoration that many are starving for in their lives (see: “Now I have your eyes…).  Like I’ve said before, the madness of sports is that it fosters this belief and provides feedback that you are only loved when you play well.  This drives most athletes to great lengths in order to survive disruption and transition.  It also drives many athletes to seek out people and places that provide ego-syntonic feedback to affirm their sense of self.  There are few things more painful than the realization that you are not who you thought you were, so the logical thing to do is avoid this pain at all costs.  Unfortunately, every single athlete that has ever lived has had to come to terms with this bind.  The unavoidable reality of this bind often leads to an identity collapse for those who have made it to high levels of competitive athletics and who find themselves unable to perform any longer.  The subsequent firestorm of emotional turmoil is as varied as each athlete’s story, but the most common struggles manifest in feelings of anger (first step toward grief a loss), depression, addiction, insecurity, and even suicide.

The good news is that the brain is naturally built to help an individual along in this process of integration in three primary ways: 1) A healthy brain helps us deal with and regulate our impulses and emotions, 2) A healthy brain allows us to connect with and understand others through empathizing, and 3) A healthy brain is malleable and allows for us to integrate new experiences into our internal world and identity.  Some of the primary functions of a psychotherapist is to help an individual begin to progress in these three areas of functioning.  The enemies of these markers of mental health are each person’s experiences of trauma, abuse, and neglect.  Trauma, abuse, and neglect essentially create internal pockets of bondage and fear that begin to guide our behaviors and relationships.  These pockets, informed by our past experiences and relationships, come together to form our internal world which in turn directs our behavior, beliefs, and style of relating to others.  In other words, our internal world, if left unknown and unexplored, will influence and guide our actions and beliefs in the external world.  Our ability to understand the narratives that have shaped our internal world in the present gives us the ability to act, believe, and respond in new ways.  [Spiritually this work is the process of putting on the Spirit of freedom and putting off the spirit of the flesh/bondage].  Needless to say, the ability for us to do this work is paramount to our mental health and we need our brain to help us in this process.  Like I said earlier, the good news is that our brain is built to integrate and change….the bad news for sufferers of CTE is that the hardware essential to the process…just so happen to be primarily in our frontal lobe.

What brain researchers are beginning to find in patients with CTE is that Tau proteins are acting as a tar of sorts that inhibits our frontal lobe.  In other words CTE effects a persons’ ability to deal with their emotions, understand and connect with others, and integrate new experiences into their internal world and identity.  Anger is multiplied because we can’t mediate it normally, our ability to connect empathetically with others is impaired, and our ability to integrate our identity during seasons of Self-disruption is impeded.  The mental effect is like asking a runner to run a marathon with a sprained ankle.  It can be done but it will be very, very difficult.

The normal process of integration for an athlete is hard enough as it is and requires a lot of love and support from a caring community (therapists, family, friends, etc…).  The problem with the disease of CTE is that it damages the parts of our mind that we need in order to begin doing this hard work of integration in community.  The combination of all these things are leaving athletes stranded in a mental health “perfect storm” in which they are often unable to survive.  I don’t believe that it is actually the disease of CTE alone that causes player decline and suicide.  Most players would attest to the fact that there are a whole plethora of other issues that seem more causative when it comes to player decline and death.  I wonder, though, if the most debilitating factor of CTE is that it makes the sufferers ability to regulate emotions, understand and empathize with others, and integrate new experiences into their internal world and identity extremely challenging.  The part of our minds meant to respond can’t because of traumatic brain injury.  And since the enemy is inside of a players head, the presence of self-condemnation and shame will be very powerful.  An athlete’s difficulty in conquering these obstacle will only serve as a reminder that they are not who they thought they were…a fact that may lead many into a type of death that won’t allow for a resurrection.

[If you or someone you love is struggling with any of the above symptoms please call Knox Burnett @ 425-202-5716]

A couple of weeks ago PBS: Frontline released a documentary entitled League of Denial: The NFL Concussion Crisis that chronicled the controversy surrounding concussion research and its potential impact on the game of football.  The documentary exposed the NFL’s decade long negligence around concussions and put into question the safety of a billion dollar industry.  The NFL has spent millions on trying to reduce the impact of this on the general public and spent hundreds of millions on lawsuits from former players wanting compensation for damages suffered.  Amidst the off the field firestorm however, the actual game of football continued without a hitch.  Outside of a couple of tweets from current players questioning the integrity of the NFL brass there seemed to be little interest in the findings from former or current players.  What we have seen and heard is that even if the head trauma suffered results in long term damage for players they are willing to take the risk.

This shouldn’t surprise you if you have ever been an athlete because one of the early lessons learned in sports is to tune out anything that could hinder your ability to perform.  I wrote about this on an entry called “Superman”,  The further up the competitive stream you go the more you will find individuals who are willing to do almost whatever it takes to tune out their fears.  If they paid attention to the risks they would never be able to reach the heights needed.  Some players are more aware of this than others, but all players must tell themselves that their worst fears (whatever it may be) won’t happen.  This is how an athlete survives the abuse of a sport…at any level.

Do athletes cognitively understand there might be consequences to playing?  Yes.  Will that stop them from playing?  No.  If it could have it would have stopped them a long time ago when their bodies were asked, for the first time, to perform in ways that brought them close to the fragileness of their humanity.  Similar to a soldier in war, anything that keeps an athlete from completing their mission must be sacrificed…or conditioned out.  So whether we are talking about head injuries, career-ending knee injuries, neck injuries, or even death, rest assured that an athlete will rarely if ever heed these warnings of danger.  To do so they will have to engage in a much more difficult and grievous war against the voices of influence that have told them to numb and ignore their pain.  They will have to eventually question why nobody intervened on their behalf the first time they had a concussion and were told to get back on the field.  They will have to question why those who were entrusted to protect them from harm did not speak up against abuse at the hands of a trainer or coach.  People learn to question because they have been allowed to.  People have freedom to say no as adults because they had the freedom to say no as a child.  To expect a player to quit playing for safety reasons is ridiculous in this context.  My question is however, what responsibility do those in power (parents, teachers, coaches, organizations) have to these players who have been mentally conditioned to ignore what will later impact them?

I came across a commentary of a grandfather who had watched the troubling documentary on football and concussions and his response was telling in this regard.  “I love my grandchildren and all four of them play football.  I am really upset and worried that if I don’t say something to their parents, they’ll suffer.”   This response is quite interesting is it not?  It is almost like there is something in the heart of this man that is causing him to question his desire to speak up and protect his grandchildren.  I have to wonder why.  Why would he struggle to name this?  What forces are against him?  It seems that whatever they are, they must also be competing at the heart of a league that has tried to ignore this issue for decades.  Sadly, this silence marks the lives of many athletes very early on.  The people who have power and responsibility to protect life keep silent at the hands of unknown forces for some known or unknown reason.

Simultaneously, what is confusing about advocating for player health is that I would imagine very few athletes appreciate these voices of protection now that they are grown.  The negative responses by players to new rules and regulations around safety seems to indicate this quite well.  Whenever there is a safety concern addressed by the league and reflected in the rules you end up hearing more frustration from players than appreciation.  Why would someone react negatively to something or someone trying to protect their health?  What could be worse than the devastating effects of a degenerative brain disease?  There is obviously something also in the heart of many athletes that is at war and causing them to silence those advocating for their physical health.

A professor of mine once said “mental pain is always worse than physical pain.”  There is something in this that opens a window into the lives of athletes and the rest of humanity.  I would argue that  there is something much more painful about losing a sense of who we are than there is about suffering physical harm.  These defining characteristics hold so much power because they often name our worth.  People will do whatever it takes to hold onto what gives them worth.  If being an athlete is the defining characteristic of your life, any event or reality that calls this identity into question will be countered with every bit of energy available.  Athletes don’t risk their lives and health for a game…they risk it because they believe being an athlete is what makes them worthy to be loved.

There is a huge bind here.  If one chooses to pursue competitive athletics they will be asked with each increasing level of competition to numb and disavow parts of themselves meant to thrive and speak.  They will have to be willing to sacrifice their mental and physical health for the god of athletic success.  It seems that this is the cost required to make it in sports, and the lessons learned in these trenches will keep you alive on the battlefield.  In a strange turn of events, it is the abuse and trauma that makes an athlete able to withstand the conditions on an unforgiving business.  And it is their longing for worth and purpose that keeps them from saying that they would have it any other way.

It has been quite an interesting few weeks in the world of sports. It seems the more I turned my focus towards investigating the impact of this world on its participants the more I have noticed just how much is boiling underneath its’ surface undiscovered. For reasons nobody is ready to confess, the world of sports has been vastly unexplored and tragically un-critiqued. Few examples are more evident than the recent headlines exposing the impact of sports related concussions. PBS Frontline released a documentary detailing the impact of concussions on athletes called League of Denial: The NFL’s Concussion Crisis. Headlines have been alive with commentary on this issue and the question of whether or not playing football can have long term health consequences on participants. The NFL is working hard to downplay this latter question, but the answer is unquestionably YES. As is the case with most culture challenging inquiries, it often takes the “hard” sciences years longer to discover what the “soft” sciences have theorized about for years. Fortunately for those of us in the mental health field, the body has a way of communicating the “mysteries” of the mind in data that nobody can ignore.

When I first heard news of the documentary and its’ implications on the game of football I was filled with competing emotions. One part of me was relieved that this information was being released to the general public and that the NFL’s powers that attempted to hide this information from players and the public could no longer do so. On the other hand I was terrified. I love watching football. Heck I even get together with a bunch of guys every Sunday and play tackle football with no pads! I felt sick to my stomach even thinking about not being able to watch my Auburn Tigers on Saturdays in the fall. So was it hard for me to imagine why people are not just afraid of this but maybe even angry at anyone who is pushing the conversation? That answer is No. I would expect this reaction from anyone who loves the game. I can understand this reaction from anyone who is seeing something very important to them begin to slip away. We are seeing the grieving process on a massive scale…and we all know that the first step is denial. With every new study we see more clearly that there is something toxic to what we are playing, coaching, and cheering. There is a price to pay for anyone who longs for glory and fame.

One of the reasons I began pursuing this work with and for the mental health of athletes was birthed out of this research on concussions and its linkage to the struggles and deaths of several current and former players. It was Junior Seau’s death in particular, and the firestorm of concussion related news that followed, that made me wonder about what else contributed to the decline of such a beloved figure in sports. At the time, my understanding of concussions, CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy), and their effects on the health of a person was fairly limited. I had little knowledge of what neurologically was happening to sufferers of CTE and was unaware of what such a brain disease would expedite. At the time I simply found an interest in the fact that someone was finally talking about the dark side of sports and I knew that there was more to the story than just CTE. The repetitive brain injuries incurred in sports like football or boxing can impair and destroy extremely important parts of our brains. Brain trauma deeply effects mental health. However, this is not the only thing happening in athletes that cause their decline.

To get a glimpse of what many athletes are facing, I’ll just include some baseline realities that come with pursuing this dream. There are the effects of years of psychological and emotional abuse, years of having to use pain killers or other substances to ease chronic pain (not everyone but many), the anxiety that accompanies the pressure of performance, and the deep confusion and shame each athlete suffers as they try to come to terms with losing a core sense of identity. I do not know an athlete who has not had to deal with every single one of these listed above…and these psychological, emotional, and physical abuses are just the tip of the iceberg if you look at the spectrum of experiences that come with pursuing competitive sports. But through relationship, particularly through the process of psychotherapy and counseling, an athlete can begin to move towards awareness and healing. What is most troubling about the effects of TBI/concussions/CTE is that it seems to impair the parts of our brain that allow for this other healing to take place. So what you have are a bunch of athletes who have been through an intense amount of trauma and abuse; experiences and effects not unlike what veterans experience after fighting in battle. These alone (and there is much more than just this trauma to deal with) could send any person into depression, mania, and/or crisis, but with CTE a person will find these issues more severe and unavoidable in everyday life. So these players find themselves angrier, more confused, more disconnected in relationship, and less able to deal with the impending storm of losing their identity as an athlete and celebrity.

Over the next few weeks I am going to be looking at several aspects of this discussion on concussions and CTE. The Sporting Psyche will take a look at the effects of Traumatic Brain Injury on our ability to express and mediate our emotions, empathize with others, and be able to change (the ability to be flexible in our identity). I’m also going to take a look at the interesting and telling reactions of NFL players who are now learning about the consequences of sports on their health.
Stay tuned…

Photo of 2014 football recruit Jalen Tabor, first published on theblcblog.com

I watched the new Superman movie with my wife a couple of weeks ago at our local discount theatre.  I am a more of an Iron Man guy myself, but thought it would be a fun movie to see on the big screen.  Unfortunately, the movie lost my interest pretty quickly after it became obvious that both Superman and the arch-villain were invincible.  Bullets, missiles, fires, lasers, falling debri, and, literally everything else that someone could concoct to kill a man was rendered useless.  Their “Superness” was on another level and the laws that limited the rest of humanity did not apply.  Neither hero or villain had any concern or fear of danger because their strength and superhuman abilities could always overcome…even death apparently.  This dynamic made for a pretty boring story for all us normal humans sitting in the audience.  Without the danger of death, a reality that is common to every normal person, the beauty and triumph of the story was lost on us.  We couldn’t relate.  At best we could only wish that we were “Super” too, living in a reality where the laws of this world didn’t apply.

When it comes to most elite athletes there is a something of this “superhumanness” that is the lifeblood of each athlete’s identity.  No obstacle is too big, no problem is too difficult, no injury too severe.  What limits and humbles the rest of the human race doesn’t apply to these elite men and women, a belief that most take deep pride in.  Interestingly enough, there has been some research done on the characteristics of an athletes personality and one of the markers that distinguishes athletes from non-athletes is an increase in resilience.  An athlete can often mentally and physically overcome quit a deal more in comparison to most non-athletes.  I would hypothesize that this is a trait that is born out of the physical and mental conditioning that comes with the territory of elite competition.  An athlete must learn to overcome obstacles, limitations, and even abuse(s) if they intend on reaching an elite level.  If they don’t, they will eventually fall by the wayside because in the current world of sports the aforementioned realities are just the name of the game.  Somewhere in this process athletes must block out any reservation or worry and begin to believe that they can and will be able to rise above the rest.  At some point the mantra, “do whatever it takes” becomes a mandate to continue pushing.

I’ve been reading a memoir by Tim Green, a former NFL lineman that has been especially intriguing as to the natural consequences of this mentality in the world of sports.  He actually believes that the pursuit of this image, for an athlete eventually encourages steroid use, drug abuse, and a dismissal of health risks in order to delay decline and limitation. In one chapter he talks about how the act of “taking the needle” (a medical treatment that allows athletes to disregard immense pain and further injury in order to keep playing) is considered a mark of honor and admiration in the NFL.  He says, “[taking the needle] demonstrates the complete disregard for one’s well being that is admired in the NFL (Green, p. 125).” On the one hand it has been this superhuman belief that has allowed mere mortals to get to the pinnacle of athletics, but simultaneously it is this same belief that leads athletes to abuse themselves as they try to delay what is inevitable.  Green points out that without this invincible belief one could never face the dark realities of football.  He also points out that by the time a player has to look their humanity in the face they are so attached to this superhuman identity that they would often rather die than accept their own defeat. 

To be sure, there has, and will never be, an athlete that can defeat the shriveling effects of death.  But the call of fame and fortune, or maybe more deeply the desire to hold onto one’s identity, for an athlete can cause even the most sane man to make a deal with the devil.  This plays out in the most simple of ways.  A fringe linebacker smacks his head against another helmet jarring his brain to a swell and causing what is called a concussion.  Although having a wealth of information and new rules on his side protecting him from endangering himself and his swelling brain, the athlete lies to team doctors about his condition for fear of being given a moniker of “injury prone” or “damaged goods”.  He runs back out on the field…because he is invincible.  He won’t be stopped by a traumatic brain injury.  After all, when one is pumped full of all kinds of different numbing agents and armed with a Superhero Costume of sorts it becomes quite easy to believe in invincibility.  Unfortunately there is always a price to pay when trying to play God.  Our mortality will not be disregarded regardless of what we believe in our mind.  One way or another we are all humbled and reminded of our limitations.  But this hard reality won’t stop the next person from trying.  Every time a superhero costume is retired there is always another hungry soul to pick it up.  We all want to be Superman.

Last year a freshman quarterback at Texas A&M burst onto the SEC scene with one of the single greatest single seasons in college football history.  The player, Johnny Manziel, led his team past the Alabama Crimson Tide and became the first freshman in the history of college football to win the Heisman Trophy, an award given to the best player in College Football.  Johnny Manziel went from being an unknown college freshman to a celebrity in a matter of months.  His exploits were so incredible he was given the moniker “Johnny Football” by the Texas A&M faithful.  His rising fame landed him on various prime-time television shows, magazine covers, and sports talk radio stations.  It was quite a year.

Since his Heisman crowning however, the headlines have been far less positive and complementary.  Manziel got arrested for public intoxication, was thrown out of a rival schools frat-party, was dismissed from a prestigious passing camp, and most recently accused of selling autographs for profit (a practice prohibited for College athletes).  Suddenly the people who stood in awe of his abilities, praised his greatness, and lived vicariously through his victories, turned on him.  He went from being a sports god to a villain.  From being a target of worship to a target for hatred and anger.

A couple of weeks ago an embattled Johnny Manziel led his Texas A&M Aggies against Alabama in what was dubbed the biggest game of the college football regular season.  For those of you who follow college football you know what happened.  Alabama won the game, but Manziel was brilliant (leading the Aggies to a record high points against Alabama).  The game certainly lived up to the hype.

The Monday before the showdown an article was posted on ESPN.com about a bar in Alabama that had created a Johnny Manziel piñata imaging the player and reflecting his recent personal struggles.  The bar invited its patrons to mark up the piñata with a sharpie, take comedic pictures of themselves with the image, and gather together during the bars’ trivia night to take swings at the source of their envy and hatred.  In the interview, the bar assured everyone that it was all in good fun…J  Sounds like it!

To be sure, it feels good to beat a piñata…especially when the piñata represents something or someone who has brought you misery or shame.  I would actually say that beating a piñata can be fairly therapeutic.  Rather than have all that anger bottled up inside, a piñata allows us to externalize our emotions in a safe and harmless way.  We are afforded the same opportunity at sporting events or in front of our televisions.  We can yell and scream at players, coaches, and referees who disappoint our expectations without having to carry the burden of feeling like we have done something inappropriate or harmful.  Even though some fan behavior would be considered incredibly inappropriate and concerning in any other situation, in the world of sports much different rules apply.  As onlookers, we are given the opportunity to project our own personal frustrations onto the participants of the sporting drama.  A new freedom is afforded us to unleash our own unconscious demons.  We are allowed to rage against futility, curse at the limitations that curb our dreams, and identify ourselves onto the victorious.  Every play can send us into adoration or despair.  One thing is for sure, what is happening in us is much more intense and important than the word “fan” depicts.  Our very sense of self if tied to these moments.

A couple of years ago my father told me that he had quit watching Auburn University play football.  Upon hearing this I was confused and curious because watching Auburn play football on Saturdays was always an important ritual in our family.  I pressed my dad further and he eventually described how difficult it had been for him to watch Auburn lose.  I understood this in my own way, I was not a fun person to be around after an Auburn loss.  For him though, the experience of watching Auburn play football stirred many old insecurities and a large amount of shame.  Auburn has played second fiddle to The University of Alabama for most of their existence…a reality that is carried in the hearts of everyone who has grown up in Alabama.  In Alabama, like many southern states, choosing your allegiance to a team is deeply personal reality.  My father and I are more than Auburn “fans”, we “bleed” Orange and Blue.  When Auburn loses, we lose.  When Auburn is embarrassed on the field, we carry the shame of defeat with us.  Their victory is our victory, their press is our press, and their hope is our hope.

During Auburn games I remind myself often, “it’s just a game Knox, just a game…breathe…you’re okay.”  The grief and disappointment of my own limitations as an athlete hover over me like a cloud in these moments.  At my best as a fan I can attempt soothing myself with the reminder that I am worth more than the outcome on the field.  In my worst moments I find myself fused with my team.  Their outcome is my outcome.  My very sense of worth hanging in the balance.

So it is with our favorite athletes.  So it is with Johnny Manziel.  Whether you find yourself celebrating or envying his athletic abilities, you can rest assured that his performance will evoke much more than any box score could narrate.  In one second we are Johnny Manziel’s biggest fans, his performance acting as the salve that cleanses our own insecurities and shame…or he is the reason for our demise, an object that intensifies and exposes what we long to cover up.  A villain worth beating with a stick.

Read the last few sentences again.  What you see here is a projection of sorts that can work as a two way mirror for our souls.

In it lies a formula that reveals a lot more about how we view ourselves than it does about Johnny Manziel the football player.  You see sports fanatics…our rage was never at Johnny Manziel.  Our rage was only at who and what he reminded us of.

During work last Friday I decided to do my usual online sport-site trolling new articles concerning my favorite teams.  I make visits to several college football sites, a Seattle Sounders blog, mlssoccer.com, and ESPN.com hoping to encounter something of interest.  On Friday I ran into an article entitled: 12-year-old Chivas USA standout John Kenneth Xuxuh Hilton has caught the eye of Manchester City.  Being driven by nothing but curiosity I clicked the article and scrolled down immediately to watch the several videos showcasing this young phenom’s talent.  To my horror, what I found was less of a commentary on this young boy’s greatness, but a troubling picture of the state of youth sports in this culture.

One of the primary categories of interest to me in my work with athletes is in how an athlete’s identity develops throughout their lives as mediated by their involvement in sports.  Lately I’ve been particularly focused on the relational roots of this conversation, which can be explored through the lens of attachment (evidenced by my first blog).  One of the questions that I’ll be asking a lot throughout this blog is “how is this _____ (interaction, behavior, abuse, trauma…etc…) forming and impacting this athlete’s understanding of themselves, others, the world, and God.”  This amalgamation of understandings, as compiled in experiences throughout our lives, lends us a sense of who we are…or in other words, our identity.  The linchpin of this discussion revolves around the belief that although there are certain factors that inherently make us unique (nature: genetics, biology, physiology…), we have each come to be formed primarily through our experiences in relationship with others (nurture: family, friends, culture etc…).

Let me use an example from my own life.  I used to believe that my ability to counsel and give advice to friends was just a product of a unique gift set that I was born with.  I assumed that these qualities were always in me from the beginning of my life…that being a counselor was “who I was” (identity).  During the course of several years of work in grad school and psychotherapy I began to see that it was no accident that I found myself pursuing jobs in the helping professions.  I learned at an early age that in order to exist in my family I needed to listen and solve problems.  I didn’t become a counselor by a certain set of genes…that identity was a product of a far more complicated and disturbing process.

Let’s look back at what was said to Xuxuh by his trainer with the understanding that what is happening is forming and shaping who this boy is and will become.  What you are watching is no small thing when wearing this lens.  “You don’t express pain, right?”  Readers, you are watching much more than a training session forming the physical conditioning of a young athlete…you are watching the internal conditioning of him as well.

Xuxuh seems to be on the way towards a long and rich athletic career.  If things go well he will fulfill the hopes of many people who long for his success (or are they actually longing to fulfill their own?).  The blog that released this story, and the agency training Xuxuh, goes on to say that “[Xuxuh] has the mental strength and stability to endure the sacrifices required.”  I have little doubt that what this young boy is doing at this training facility has had a huge impact on his ability to set himself apart from his peers athletically.  In an age where players must be “bigger, stronger, faster, and tougher” this may actually be on the tamer side of what young boys are being asked to do by coaches, trainers, and parents.  The question that we all must ponder much more seriously though is “at what cost?”

Hansen’s disease, more commonly known as Leprosy, is often lethal because it destroys the central nervous systems ability to communicate effectively.  By attacking the skin’s ability to feel appropriately and communicate pain to the brain, lepers often die because of secondary injuries they were unaware of suffering.

Pain tells us something.  It lets us know when our body/mind/soul is saying “no”.  It communicates limitations and warns us of danger.  It tells us our boundaries.  Without the ability to communicate such pain we are unable to respond appropriately to what is harming us.  We are, in some sense, lepers.  We are people who have had one of our most important and precious senses infected, leaving us open to a whole host of harmful toxins.

When we are young, like Xuxuh, we don’t yet know these boundaries.  A child who reaches for a flame has no idea about the potential and consequence of such a venture.  Without the guidance of those who are older, stronger, and wiser, we would have no way of knowing how to maneuver what our developing minds are too young to fully understand.  The impact then of a coach who tells a young athlete to keep silent about his pain can be very, very formative.  This communication is teaching a boy to discard one of his most important senses…one that would give him permission to say “no” to what destroys his body, soul, and mind.

But like Xuxuh’s coach said, such damages are just a part of the “sacrifices required” for a child who longs to become the Next Great Athlete…

“The greatest gift you can give to a child is your face.”  -Dr. Steve Call, Professor @ The Seattle School of Theology and Psychology

What a dilemma lies at the heart of so many of our pursuits.  The problem with athletics, especially the older you get, is that the nature of sport brings an answer to this dilemma for a time.  It encourages the meaning making of doing over being.  It reinforces that it is not who we are but what we do that makes us worthy of attention…of love.  Now, think for a moment what happens when an athlete can no longer prove him/herself through these means.  Imagine the soul shriveling that would happen when nobody is cheering, or worse, when people are booing and cursing your decline.

Welcome to the Sporting Psyche…