Programs give ex-NFL players in crisis lifeline
Jon Witman put the shotgun to his head. Again.
A fullback with the Pittsburgh Steelers from 1996 to 2001, Witman was in financial distress, severely depressed and hooked on painkillers a year ago. He was going to pull the trigger this time, until the youngest of his four sons came in the room. Witman couldn’t go through with it.
“I denied it, but I knew I had a problem,” Witman recalled recently in a phone interview with USA TODAY Sports. “When you get done playing and not getting that edge back and not having that feeling — I don’t know, man. It was ugly.”
Ever wonder where the money goes when the NFL fines players for misconduct? Half is allocated to the Gene Upshaw Players Assistance Trust, one of many resources funded by the league and its players union to help former players in need such as Witman, whose wife, Michelle, made the call they both credit with saving his life soon after the suicide scare.
She heard about the NFL Players Association’s crisis team in part through the ex-wife of Justin Strzelczyk, Witman’s best friend in Pittsburgh and a former Steelers offensive lineman. Strzelczyk’s death at 36 after a high-speed police chase in 2004 increased focus on mental health and the challenges of transitioning out of football.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Michelle Witman said. “He was to the point where we were all scared — the boys, everybody. I was scared for my children to be in a vehicle with him.”
Witman, 43, spent 32 days in detox, a month in rehab and two more in a halfway house beginning Jan. 5 to kick his 500-milligram-a-day methadone habit. He suffered a heart attack along the way. The players assistance trust paid his bills back home in Pennsylvania, and he continued to receive financial support for his family once he got clean. He also got connected with a therapist.
Former Tennessee Titans linebacker Gerald McRath had to confront depression and alcohol addiction after a DUI arrest in March. He called his program manager at The Trust, another jointly funded program run by the NFLPA that helps players transition, and within days was on a plane to enter an in-patient program through a partnership with the University of Michigan.
“There’s not anything that we cannot assist a player and his family with in any space, whether it’s financial, whether it’s medical, whether it’s behavioral mental health, whether it’s substance abuse,” said Tyrone Allen, director of the Professional Athletes Foundation and one of three licensed clinicians on the NFLPA staff. “We have the resources.” Any player who spent even a day on an NFL practice squad is eligible for resources and support from the Professional Athletes Foundation, which has referred about 20 other players for inpatient substance and alcohol abuse treatment and at least 130 for outpatient services and counsel- ing in areas such as depression since January, Allen said.
There are an average of five to 10 calls a month from former players or their family members with emergency situations, and the numbers rise during the holidays, Allen said. With about 20,000 living former players, that’s a small percentage. But higher-risk players are monitored closely. Relationships are built. Protocols are in place to assess for safety, dispatching 911 if needed.
“We’ve had a few situations where we’ve had players with guns in their hands, and we were able to get on the phone with them,” Allen said. “I had a former player who was chasing his wife, who had a young infant daughter in (her) hands, around with a machete. That’s just how significant these situations are.”
Current and former players also can call the NFL Life Line — it’s an independent, confidential crisis line staffed 24 hours a day with licensed clinicians who can connect them to other league resources — said Dwight Hollier, di- rector of transition and clinical services for NFL Player Engagement.
The NFL Players Assistance and Counseling Services program offers eight counseling sessions per issue for players and anyone in their household. The NFL Player Care Foundation and other entities provide additional services. Current players also have resources at the team level.
“Guys need to be reminded that they don’t have to be that macho person they’ve been conditioned to be since they were young,” said Hollier, a former NFL linebacker who battled depression during his own transition and now is a licensed counselor. “Real men have emotions. Real men get assistance when they need it.”
McRath, 29, said fear of judg- ment kept him from seeking help sooner, even as he dealt with anxiety attacks and couldn’t sleep for over two years after knee problems derailed his career. But he couldn’t go home to face his wife and young daughter after the arrest put him at rock bottom.
“Once I got back to the other side, I had a long list of contacts that I had to call that I had isolated out of my life and explained to them what I wanted to deal with,” McRath said. “Every single one of them was like, ‘ Why didn’t you tell me? If only you would’ve told me, I would’ve helped you.’ ”
Since leaving treatment, McRath has worked on his coaching career. He received a grant to cover housing during an internship this fall at Berry College in Georgia. He’ll intern again at next month’s NFLPA Collegiate Bowl for draft prospects.
Witman is going through Chapter 13 bankruptcy proceedings after losing more than $1 million in the 2008 stock market crash. He continues to deal with pain from back and ankle fusion surgeries that leaves him unable to work every day. He gave his landscaping business to his brother.
But Witman is sober, and the thoughts of suicide passed. He’s in regular contact with Professional Athletes Foundation manager Caryl Banks, whom he calls the angel on his shoulder. Michelle Witman’s message to others in the same spot: Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
“The problem is that we don’t ask for help and we think we can handle it,” Jon Witman said. “My wife’s the one that took the initiative. If she would not have taken the initiative, I’d probably be dead.”