By Marcus Little
Stillness and calm surrounded me and a hundred other highschoolers as we braced for the familiar pop of a starter pistol being fired just before… BANG! The ground shook as a small army of runners sprinted forward to avoid being absorbed into a collapsing crowd of bodies, each one fighting to gain ground. I was on pace to break my personal best time; All that time spent training would finally… BANG! Another pop, but this one inaudible and from within my knee and was followed by searing pain I could barely limp through. Fear of shame, failure and what I would think of myself if I quit forced me to finish the race. This decision probably turned a minor injury into one that had me on the sidelines for the rest of the season. Not the first poor choice I made because of my anxious nature, and it would not be the last.
Athletes of any caliber will suffer an injury at least once in their career. What can set them apart isn’t just the intensity of the injury, but how athletes respond to the fallout. Rondale Moore was a receiver who signed with the Minnesota Vikings in 2025 after being unable to play for the Atlanta Falcons due to an injury the previous season. During an exhibition game for the Vikings, Rondale suffered another season ending injury. The realization that he would be unable to play for another year invited enough anger to slam his hand so hard on the gurney it could be heard throughout the stadium, according to the Associated Press. On Saturday, Feb. 21, Moore was found dead from a suspected self-inflicted gunshot wound.
Moore’s death remains under investigation, and we can only speculate so much about motive. Yet this tragedy seems like a familiar echo of the ongoing mental health crisis athletes face. I do not seek to claim that the Vikings didn’t support Moore enough, or his family and friends. However, I will always support the claim that athletes suffer more mental health problems than most other populations because of the stigmas surrounding athletic culture, especially in the United States.
My combined experience as a former athlete and graduate studying mental health counseling have burdened me with knowledge of just how desperate our athletes are for care. The competition, pressure to perform, reliance on drugs and looming judgment from those who should be supporting you can deteriorate anyone’s mental state.
The latter source is particularly important, especially as it is often overlooked. Stigmas are upheld by people, and the stigma that you’re weak for seeking aid is a prevalent reason that many people won’t seek help. I can recall far too many stories of my own or friends where we felt barred from support because of external beliefs.
Don’t just take my word for it. When Simone Biles left the Tokyo games because of crushing pressure to perform, responses were mixed at best. Despite much initial praise, you can still find many articles documenting the narrative that she was a quitter. Simones’s leave was a bold and necessary decision, and it helped show even the greatest athletes are human. Simone would return in the Paris games and receive 3 gold medals; proving strength is not marred by needing to take a step back.
The fear of being seen as weak will drive athletes to ignore any concerns they have and perform despite the pain. Pushing past even subtle mental health problems can feel like Sisyphus and his boulder. But when the boulder inevitably falls back down the hill, it will crush you.
