For Love of the Game

I find this article incredibly moving and have read it multiple times in the past few days. It resonates deeply. Some background:

1) Recently in church, we had a lesson on mental health and the Gospel, a huge step forward in eliminating the stigma associated with mental illness within the church and more broadly.

2) Recently in a bookstore (my other place of worship), I came across the "Phenomenon" book mentioned in the article and subsequently proceeded to research the Yips and Ankiel's experience, something as a sports fan I am ashamed to admit I had never heard about previously.

3) Recently at work, I asked my baseball enthusiast colleague for more information about Ankiel and learned there are many other baseball players with similar stories.

and 4) Recently I have rediscovered the beauty of the game of baseball. (Thank you, Kevin Costner.)

In that context, this article made me realize that baseball is a powerful metaphor for the often lonely experience that is mental illness.

"...baseball is a solitary endeavor. Players stand at their position, far from each of their teammates. When a ball comes their way, all eyes are on them; it’s their play to make or break... They can singlehandedly save the day or be the one that lets everyone down."

Ankiel goes on to describe his anxiety as "my monster." Accurate. Another author describes how she knew her anxious thoughts "weren't logical.... That’s the thing about irrational anxiety: you can’t fix your broken brain with your broken brain." Accurate. And bringing it back to sports she says, "It’s incredibly inspiring to see how a pitcher can fail so incredibly one day and then come back and do it again and try again.” Accurate.

Many people know of my deeply rooted passions for the MOST beautiful game (soccer) and for Tim Howard in particular. Few people know both passions were borne as I flipped through a Sports Illustrated magazine in a waiting room of a therapist's office as I awaited a pre-scheduled confrontation with my own demons: anxiety, OCD, and depression.

I learned that Tim Howard, someone I had never heard of before in my life, has Tourette Syndrome. That he essentially always has, and that he always will. And immediately I was a fan because in one respect, we were on the same team and I wasn't so alone anymore.

Still, lots of days, I do feel alone. But stories like these, true stories like these, and the courage of those who share them, are gifts. Little reminders that we are all on the same team.

                                                                                                                                            Ankiel never truly recovered from his meltdown on the mound. Tim Howard has embraced his Tourette Syndrome. And I am gradually working towards an acceptance that my monster will never leave me but that that doesn't mean I have to give it the time of day.

                                                                                                                                            So with all that said, I highly recommend reading the article at the very least and picking up Ankiel's book if you ever get the chance. I'm headed to the bookstore to buy the copy I criminally left waiting for me on that display table two weeks ago!!

And for anyone interested: here is the moment Ankiel's monster reared it's angry head, without his consent, for all the world to see. The way he has allowed the experience to transform him for the better is incredible. Consider me the newest Rick Ankiel superfan!