The seasons fly. Here we are
in the middle of OTAs. The smell of fresh cut grass fills the early summer air.
For most, it is the best time of the year. Your guy's flying in and out between
home and light practices. There's family time and away time and you look
forward to both. Before you know it, the duffle bag is packed and you're
gearing up for the long stint, when camp rolls around.
For some, however, this will
be the first year out. And for many of them, this fact hasn't been confirmed,
yet. Calls aren't coming in and the quiet is paralyzing. If this were The
Matrix, your player is now suspended above his life in player stance, while all
the world moves about in normal fashion. This is when you realize that
"normal" for you is unfamiliar and foreign to him.
When my husband Michael's
career came to an end after 12 seasons, it was a long, slow death. The Eagles
had offered to send him off with a tribute at the end of the season, but he
declined the offer respectfully - saying he wasn't retiring. The word alone
didn't sit well with him and he instructed the kids to say, "Thanks, but
my dad didn't retire, he was thrown out of the league."
Retirement, you see, was a
choice.
That off season, he was in
the best shape of his life. Lance Rentzel had introduced him to wheatgrass
juice, and he wore out the hill at his old high school with a makeshift sled.
He dissected his playbook and fell asleep to film. To keep anyone from talking
to him he learned to play the piano. His first song set included: Yesterday
and
Try to Remember The Kind of September, a subconscious Swan Song, I
believe. One morning I passed him and said, "Hey! You got any Eye of
the Tiger?" He had to laugh. I saw his shoulders shake up and
down.
Thankfully, it was during
this time that I was finishing up my book, When The Clock Runs Out. This was
key for two reasons. First, I was completely immersed in the project and that
gave Michael space. Second, my entire topic dealt with Letting Go and I was getting great advice from hundreds of former
players and their wives on how to handle it.
Their messages shaped to say,
"This is just a phase. It's a transition. Don't chastise him for what he
is doing or not doing right now. Let him process it. Mourn it. Let it sink in
before you judge him."
Judging him is key. You don't
mean to do it, but we can't help it. We see our man in uniform, as players. For
many, that's all we know. Seeing them stripped of their number is unsettling.
Their vulnerability is unfamiliar. And believe me, it's more morose for them.
Football players are rare in that they are forced to die two deaths.
While he is processing his
fate, it is your turn to steer the ship. Perhaps you have your own career or
together, have already laid the groundwork for his second career. Now is the
time to reach out to your NFL sources.
Whether it be a new business start up, franchising, coaching, sports
camps, broadcasting, music, you name it, the NFLPE will equip you with the
information and contacts you need. Dive into the knowledge and when the time is
right, start sharing it with him -
without pushing him. Remember, he's still hoping for that call.
I remember hanging up the
phone with former players. I could filter out what Michael would and wouldn't
want to hear. One day I got a call from a friend who contacted Jack Lambert for
me. His message was, "Nice idea - your book. But nobody cares."
Michael was dark, so he liked that. I wanted him to know that he wasn't alone.
Other guys, like Lambert, had been dark, too and survived.
When I speak to the young
women of the league, I stress the importance of finding their own passion and
life purpose, early on. This is never more important than during transition.
Having the ability to focus on your own work, whether it be career, faith or
family will offer some semblance to your altering terrain. It is during this
time that your actions have the potential to impact your family for the rest of
your lives.
Women are instinctive,
nurturing and resilient. Whether you planned for this or just got the rug
pulled out from under you, your intuition will become the life raft for your
family.
Watch for signs of
depression, rage, alcohol and drug addiction, apathy, mood swings, aggressive
or reckless behavior. If need be, engage the NFL hotlines for direction. Reach
out to the women of the league, both past and present, through the NFL Engagement Zone. Be selective
and protective with the company you keep. For while the world and friends and
family are telling him he should feel blessed to have played at all, he may be
feeling cursed, lost, alienated and stripped down to a time he can't even
remember and definitely can't relate to.
In the end, a change will
take place and you will find yourselves on the other side. Hopefully, it will
be a graceful transition. We all handle change differently. Sometimes change
defeats us and in Hemingway's words many are strong at the broken places. What is comforting is knowing that this is
not a solo journey. The path is seasoned and the bridges have been built. Take
advantage of the great programs and resources that the league has created with
your future success and the success of your family in mind.