Recognizing athletes have value in life beyond competition never more vital | Opinion

Winter was taking one more stand March 18.

Changing of seasons have an uncanny way of serving as symbolism for the changes within life.

Here one day. Potentially gone the next.

But before it does, every attempt is made to appreciate how special, precious, fleeting the gift within those seasons is. After all, nothing thereafter is guaranteed.

Seasons in nature became a pivot to the seasons of life that afternoon, as I read the powerful but poignant tribute in The Players Tribune by former longtime NFL wide receiver A.J. Green to his former teammate Rondale Moore.

As many of you are aware, Moore was a star receiver at Purdue and later played with the Cardinals, overlapping on the back end of Green's career there after Green played nine years with the Bengals, and later the Falcons and Vikings.

Feb. 21, Moore died by suicide in his hometown of New Albany, Ind. He was only 25.

If you haven't read it, Green's tribute was jarring. His love and respect for Moore is palpable in every syllable.

Green spoke of attempting to help support Moore after he suffered two major injuries that had essentially derailed his NFL dreams. He spoke of the change he could sense within Moore as the emotional toll of the injuries inflicted their burden.

Green's tribute should be seen in full by all who are touched by Moore's tragic tale.

But for our purposes in this space, one passage should be repeated:

"I'll say the most obvious thing right now: I'm not an expert on mental health," Green wrote. "I'm a former football player, and I'm writing this as Rondale's former teammate and - more importantly - his friend. So please have that in mind when I tell you, in my opinion, Rondale wasn't planning on any of this. To me? He was just a kid. And he was a kid who was struggling a lot with the idea of losing his identity as a football player."

We do not as a society talk often enough about the attachment athletes place on value as a human being and equating that value to athletic performance and accomplishment.

About how we - by supporting them - can do better to ensure we all realize value as a human isn't necessarily about athletic accomplishment or lack thereof.

Particularly when it torments said athlete.

During the holidays, I was also reminded of this concept while compiling the Jerry Holtrey tributes after the legendary former Hawken swim coach died Dec. 23. By request, generations of "Jerry's kids" were kind enough to reach out and share memories and insight.

One of those tributes is worth resharing here.

Lauren (Preyss) Erickson is one of the all-time great swimmers The News-Herald coverage area has produced, a 2003 Chagrin Falls graduate and five-time individual-event state champion. In paying tribute to Holtrey, Erickson mentioned something that returned to my thoughts while reading Green's homage to Moore.

"As a young adult who often felt valued or worth only through success, having my longtime coach recognize my struggles and quietly walk alongside me - just by being present - was life-changing," Erickson wrote in part.

We don't think about that as much as we should.

The idea athletes, regardless of caliber, frame life success through competitive success. How it might be difficult at best, impossible for some, to separate the two.

It's unfortunate, through sports' context , that we can't improve that dynamic.

That we place value on the human being more than the caliber of athletic skill.

Not to a point at which athletes aren't driven toward success.

Not where athletes don't test their limits or aren't held accountable.

Not where athletes can't and shouldn't face adversity.

Not where athletes don't use sports as a means of learning about themselves and broader life lessons.

But that peak athletic performance - or not - is not the one absolute metric for life success.

I've covered student-athletes through high school sports over 27 years at The News-Herald who are regarded as the greatest of their craft. For whatever reason, though, that last state meet as a senior didn't go according to plan.

One sprang to mind. As always, no identities in order to better convey a point.

There was a swimmer. An all-time legend for their school and the coverage area. Accomplished as anyone has ever been.

Their senior year, their signature event did not go well - by their standard to that point, at all. I looked down at my split chart and immediately recognized what had gone "wrong."

A student section had come that night to Canton to support their classmates.

One looked down from the bleachers and asked, "Chris, what happened!?"

Because it didn't go "as expected."

In the years that followed, every so often, I've thought about this swimmer and how they processed that moment. About if the standout student-athlete and the human being could disconnect the two.

About just how much it did bother this swimmer in the end. Or, if it didn't at all - particularly as the calendar turned and proverbial dust began to collect.

Many can move on. Many can separate.

Some, sadly, cannot.

That's why this matters.

When we hear and witness the stories.

Of this swimmer. Of the feeling Erickson described. Of Moore.

It is so vital to recognize there is a necessity to treat sports as an avenue where success and adversity intersect, and that the latter can envelop the other.

But that when it's said and done, there is an important line to draw.

There is an athlete. And there is a human being.

The human being can learn from being an athlete.

But the human being must be encouraged to disconnect their personal value from their athletic prowess.

Sports matter. But life takes precedent.

We grieve for all affected by tales similar to Moore's.

Those tales are exactly why it's so important to recognize the people within athletes.

Because when we do, there's a better chance they do as well.

Especially when they must, during their own change in season.

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