Athletes Should Not Have to Defend Their Need for Help

OPENING STATEMENT

We tell athletes to speak up about their mental health. Too often, we are still not prepared to listen without judgment.

Lane Johnson’s retirement this week exposed that contradiction. After 14 seasons with the Philadelphia Eagles, he said his personal and family priorities had changed. He had planned to finish the season but decided he could not continue on that timetable. A decision that I’m sure could not have been easy to make.

The following morning, ESPN’s Stephen A. Smith mocked the timing, questioning why Johnson would retire four games into the season. He even suggested the Eagles’ struggles explained his departure. His commentary drew significant criticism, and Smith later tried to suggest his remarks had been misconstrued and that he would never minimize mental health.

It’s a moment that shows the progress that’s been made - and where there is so much more needed. An athlete publicly identifies a health need, and a prominent voice turns that difficult decision into a punchline. It makes me wonder what a college athlete watching that exchange might conclude about the risks of speaking up?  

Johnson has described those risks himself. In 2021, in an interview with Fox Sports, Johnson acknowledged his anxiety and depression, even admitting  “I was ashamed, to be honest.” It remains the sentiment that college athletics must continue to confront. 

Research on athlete help-seeking identifies stigma, team culture, confidentiality concerns and fears about selection or playing time as barriers. For some male athletes, expectations of toughness and self-reliance can make acknowledging distress especially difficult. Those expectations are not universal, but they deserve serious attention.

The issue is not simply whether someone has the courage to ask for help. It is whether asking for help feels safe. Will a coach question their commitment? Will teammates see them differently? Who will know? Could disclosure affect their place on the team?

The NCAA’s 2022-23 Student-Athlete Health and Wellness Study makes the gap clear. Nearly 70% of athletes reported knowing where to find mental health support and having trusted people on campus. Only about half felt comfortable seeking support from a licensed mental health provider. Just 54% of male athletes and 40% of female athletes felt comfortable discussing mental health with coaches. 

The broader campus picture is equally serious. In the 2024-25 Healthy Minds Study, 37% of participating college students screened positive for moderate to severe depressive symptoms; 32% reported moderate to severe anxiety symptoms. 

Today’s college athletes face pressure that does not end when the game does. Sports wagering gives strangers a financial stake in their performance. Social media gives those strangers direct access to them. A missed shot or costly mistake can follow an athlete off the field and into their phone.

Earning money adds another layer. NIL opportunities can bring financial benefits, but also obligations, scrutiny and an unforgiving message: If you’re getting paid, you should be able to take the criticism. Compensation does not erase an athlete’s vulnerability or give anyone permission to harass them.

All of this sits on top of academics, recruiting, roster uncertainty, transfers, injury and rehabilitation. Athletes must also manage a public identity while navigating expectations from coaches, teammates, families and fans. We keep expanding what we expect of them. We cannot treat their capacity to absorb it as unlimited.

NCAA monitoring across selected championships in 2024 identified more than 740 explicitly betting-related instances of online abuse. In a separate study of the 2025 men’s and women’s March Madness tournaments, analysts confirmed 3,161 abusive or threatening posts and comments across all categories. Assuming athletes simply can, or just telling them to ignore it is not a sufficient response.

NCAA rules require member schools to provide mental health services and resources consistent with its Mental Health Best Practices. Those practices address supportive environments, screening, referral and emergency plans, and treatment by licensed providers. But implementation is the real test: clear routes to care, honest explanations of confidentiality, coaches who understand referrals, and procedures for responding to harassment. Athletes should not have to prove their distress, defend its timing or disclose private details to earn respect.

Johnson’s decision this week is a reminder that health does not follow a competition calendar. We cannot keep asking athletes to break their silence while making silence seem safer.

EXHIBIT A

Reports of sexual violence on college campuses are rising, according to a story in this week’s Washington Post. What’s noteworthy in the story is that a critical accountability gap remains: The federal government doesn’t collect comparable national data on college disciplinary outcomes. New York does, under its Enough is Enough law. Across nearly 300 colleges, more than 25,800 reported incidents involving sexual assault, domestic violence, dating violence and stalking from 2018 through 2024 yielded expulsions or dismissals in just over 1% of cases; another 2% resulted in suspensions. These figures don’t establish guilt in every case. They underscore why Washington should require comparable reporting: We need to understand what happens after someone reports sexual violence.

EXHIBIT B

Interesting development this week in that the Sixth Circuit docketed an appeal by former Michigan football players challenging the dismissal of their proposed $50 million NIL class action. The players argue that each new rebroadcast, highlight or merchandise use constitutes a fresh antitrust violation, rather than merely the continuing effect of agreements signed years ago. If that theory succeeds, it could open a path for other pre-2016 athletes to seek compensation for recent and future commercial uses of their NIL. But it would not automatically unlock decades of damages: federal antitrust claims generally have a four-year limitations period, and a new overt act ordinarily cannot revive losses caused by older, time-barred conduct.

ON THE DOCKET

The NCAA’s move toward fall-and-spring Division I men’s soccer may deliver the better recovery and player development that it promotes. But a better soccer calendar may not be a better campus calendar. That’s what we’re going to find out after the NCAA affirmed changes this week. The addition of spring competition raises questions about shared fields, athletic trainers, strength staff and game-day operations alongside existing sports. The 25-game limit stays unchanged; the operational demands stretch across two semesters. Can schools support that shift without shortchanging other athletes? The proposal faces a 30-day rescission period before taking effect in 2027-28. What happens next will test whether athlete welfare drives implementation or becomes another promise departments are expected to deliver without adequate resources.

FOOTNOTES

“We're reaching a tipping point where it's going to get very hard to be able to support these Olympic sports if I have to pay a quarterback $3M a year. That $3M I just paid that quarterback is enough to run my women's soccer program, my men's soccer program, and probably my two tennis programs in one year.”

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