Shoals Unlimited: NBAers Seem More Able to Address Mental Diseases Than Football Players

Welcome to Shoals Unlimited, where Bethlehem will post a long-form piece on basketball once a week.

After a bad season opener that included an injury, Titans quarterback Vince Young seemed to fall apart. He refused to get an MRI and appeared distraught. He then disappeared, was thought be armed and a danger to himself, and had the police looking for him. Earlier statements he'd made about leaving football suddenly grew more ominous, and his mother pleaded with the media and fans (if cryptically) to understand her son's pain.

Then a few days later, Young turned up, claiming it had just been one big misunderstanding. Everything was fine. Kind of like that time the famously moody Terrell Owens was carted away by ambulance after ingesting an unknown quantity of prescription painkillers. His spokesperson, who found him and called 911, suggested it was a suicide attempt. Soon after, she was out of a job, and Owens claimed it was just an allergic reaction.

Contrast this with the recent admission by Cavs guard Delonte West that his time away from camp had to do with depression and a mood disorder, demons he's battled his whole life. West was candid with the media about his history, and how important it was for him to step back and get the proper treatment. Now, aside from a few gentle "so that's why he's so kooky" lines, there's been nothing but well-wishing and support for West.

So why does West have no problem coming forward with his mental health issues, while Young and Owens are intent on brushing aside all such implications? To be fair, we don't really know what happened with these two NFL stars; certainly, Young's situation is harder to explain, and Owens had a plausible explanation. But both seem loathe to even for a second let the public think they might have psychological issues.

Maybe it's a matter of status. Vince Young is (or at least was) the future of the Titans franchise; no matter what you think of Terrell Owens, there's no question he's one of history's elite receivers. West, on the other hand, is a journeyman who can play, and looks to be an important part of an improved Cavs team. There's absolutely no comparison in terms of the public attention received. Delonte West doesn't have national endorsements, and rarely makes headlines with his play.

But if anything, this makes West even more vulnerable. It's been said that a superstar could get away with being openly gay by virtue of his play. Similarly, West's now known mostly as "that guy with mental problems," whereas Young or Owens could conceivably have sorted things out earlier, even discreetly, and just had their visits to a therapist added as a footnote on their respective Wikipedia pages.

Nor is it about what we expect from these men based on what we know, or think we know, about their personalities. West has always been an eccentric. Before this week, West has probably been quite innocently referred to as "crazy." Not so for Vince Young, who in the huddle and in front of reporters could shout and swagger while retaining the grounded charisma of an NFL leading man. Owens, though, was the league's signature nutcase. Really, would anyone be shocked to find out that T.O. needed professional help?

What we're left with is the too-obvious fact that West is a basketball player, while Young and Owens strap on pads and helmets every Sunday. Writing for Slate, Stefan Fatsis was unsurprised that Vince Young would consider leaving the game, or suddenly spiral out of control:

When I spent a summer in an NFL locker room, I learned that the emotional and psychological pressures of pro football are painful for almost all players, barely tolerable for some, and unbearable for a few. I don't know Vince Young personally and don't know whether he falls into the last group. But he does demonstrate some of the major signs of stress -- and distress -- of life in the NFL.

And, as Fatsis later told me in an email:

The culture of the league, and of sports, truly doesn't make room for athletes to deal with these sorts of problems. For whatever reasons -- cultural, socioeconomic, athletic -- a lot of players are reluctant to get help, and it's not like teammates are pushing you to go see the shrink. One of the psychologists I talked to for the Vince piece said he had no illusions about changing behavioral patterns, i.e. he found that football players by and large just weren't receptive to treatment.

Fatsis' piece details the many ways in which football -- violent, every second of competition packed with pressure, enormously popular and inspiring fans whose passion border on pathology -- could eat away at a young man's psyche. I'm admittedly biased, but for West to have made his announcement as effortlessly as he did suggests that basketball just isn't as macho, or unflappably warrior-like, in its mentality as football.

You can joke about NFL players, who play through any injury, vs. those NBA bums who milk a sprained ankle for a month on the bench. But there's no mistaking the militaristic mindset of football, where each man is a cog commanded by a no-nonsense general, for the atmosphere of pro basketball, where individualism is unavoidable and "players' coaches," kind of like a cool dad, win championships. Not that it wasn't difficult for West to speak up, but his difficulties just aren't radically at odds with what his sport expects of him.

For proof of this, look no further than Tracy McGrady. T-Mac has long been one of the league's most popular players, a ferocious scorer and instantly likable character. He's also associated closely with sadness, loss and disappointment -- in part because of his endless first-round disappointments, but also because of his willingness to speak with the media about times he's felt down, or tragic events in his life that have crept into his feelings about basketball.

Ultimately, though, this isn't about judging sports, but about people's lives. And there's no question that, right now, West seems to be in a better position, personally and professionally, than Young. Here's hoping that Vince Young sorts out whatever's been troubling him -- even if he does so away from the public eye -- so he can get back to playing the game he loves in the way that made us all once view him as invincible.

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.