Install Day 2: Athletic Institutionalization: Life After the Game

The transition from competitive athletics to everyday life is one of the most overlooked, gut-wrenching journeys an athlete will ever face. It’s not just the end of a season; it’s the unraveling of an identity. This blog dives into a concept I call “athletic institutionalization,” breaking down how walking away from a structured athletic lifestyle can leave former athletes lost, battling identity crises, mental health struggles, and social isolation.

I’ve lived it. Four-time All-Conference linebacker. Two-time All-American. TCU Hall of Fame, Class of 2018. Drafted in the 5th round by the Ravens. Five years in the NFL. On paper, it sounds like a dream. But the reality? I was a bittersweet experience. I played long enough to get vested, but also long enough to rack up three major knee surgeries and a torn calf that ripped clean off the bone. Looking back, I’m grateful for my time in the NFL. But in the moment? I was bitter. Angry. Exhausted. Trapped in the cycle: injury, surgery, rehab, make the team… then boom—injured again.

After the NFL, I found myself spinning. If it wasn’t for the rock-solid support of my family, I might not have made it. I was one of the lucky ones. Too many guys step off that field without anyone in their corner, and the fall can be brutal.

For most collegiate and pro athletes, life after the final whistle feels like a free fall. The roar of the crowd fades and what replaces it is this quiet question: Was that the peak? At 22, a lot of athletes have already seen more glory, and in some cases more income, than most see in decades. Then suddenly it’s gone. That contrast can be jarring, even paralyzing, especially if they lack the right structure and support system needed to weather the storm.

This sudden transition can create a deep sense of confusion and unease. The thrill of past victories quickly gives way to anxiety, fueling doubt about the future. Reflecting on past achievements, you begin to wonder if you’ll ever reach that level again. Once defined by a successful athletic career, you’re suddenly thrust into a battle over who you are without the game.

But life isn’t measured by a few glory days. It’s defined by what you do after. Some of the biggest breakthroughs happen once the lights go out. The key is support, without it, the question of “Was that the best it’s ever gonna get?” turns from reflection into despair.

Top tier athletes are trained to operate within a highly structured environment. An environment where every aspect of their lives is dictated by their coaches or the organization. From when to sleep, eat, and train, to when and where to compete, schedules are meticulously crafted to optimize performance and build team cohesion. The absence of that daily routine can heighten feelings of vulnerability as retired athletes struggle to create new habits and rediscover purpose in everyday life. They’re not just rebuilding a routine; they’re trying to rebuild themselves.

One day you’re a hero; the next, you’re invisible. The shift from being somebody to just another face in the crowd hits hard. Some wrestle with the fear that the one thing they were ever good at is gone, and without it, they don’t know who they are. Starting over feels impossible, especially as relationships that once meant everything begin to fade. College teammates drift apart. Pro players return to homes scattered across the country. Over time, many begin to feel isolated, questioning whether those connections were truly personal or just tied to the game they shared together.

Many athletes retire from their sport without having developed the healthy coping mechanisms needed to navigate the stress and inevitable challenges of everyday life. They’ve been trained to work hard and confront adversity, but not always to show vulnerability or reach out when those familiar tools no longer solve the problems in front of them. As a result, many face these struggles in isolation.

For years, immersion in sport was the primary outlet, a passion so consuming it often masked deeper emotional battles. I can relate. During my career, when faced with personal hardship or emotional stress, I poured everything into the physical and often violent nature of football. In many ways, the game became my therapy. It gave me a place to release emotion and cope with life’s pressures.

But relying on sport as a coping mechanism carries serious risks when the game is gone. If you’re not emotionally prepared for that shift, the fallout can be brutal. Some athletes turn to substance use to fill the void. Others struggle with depression, anxiety, or emotional numbness as they grapple with the sudden loss of their identity or purpose.

Tragically, for some, the inability to cope leads to suicidal thoughts, or worse. That’s why we need more than good intentions. We need real support systems that give athletes the emotional tools and trusted relationships to lean on as they step away from the game they sacrificed everything for. These conversations aren’t just helpful, they’re lifesaving. It’s how we ensure our athletes don’t just survive retirement but thrive in life after sports.

As I worked through the struggle of life after football, I realized how vital it was to open up to the people who loved me. Talking about what I was feeling, leaning on support, and getting real with myself gave me the tools to face the chaos that comes after the final whistle. It took dropping my ego to learn one of life’s hardest truths: vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s strength stripped down to its rawest, realest form.

My personal journey away from football included a difficult 3-year battle with opioid abuse. During that time, I wrestled with profound questions of identity and purpose: Who am I without the game? What does life look like beyond the field? The weight of those questions often felt overwhelming, casting a long shadow over my sense of self. I never stopped being “that football player,” but I struggled to envision who I could become outside of that role. It took time, pain, and deep reflection to begin shaping a new identity, one grounded not in past achievements, but in the purpose and potential that lie ahead.

At first, it was incredibly difficult to separate my self-worth from my athletic achievements. Football had defined my life for so long that it became inseparable from how I measured my value in the world. But through countless hours of introspection, I began to see that my worth wasn’t limited to my performance on the field. I started to uncover talents and passions that extended far beyond athletics, and that realization marked a pivotal turning point in my journey. It sparked the beginning of my recovery and motivated me to pursue new avenues of success and fulfillment, helping me redefine who I am outside of sports.

With the unwavering encouragement of my family, who stood by me every step of the way, I found the courage to face my uncertainties. Admitting that I didn’t fully know who I was without football was surprisingly liberating, it felt like surrendering, not in defeat, but to the process of rediscovery.

Through this I found purpose in empowering others, using my story as a beacon of hope and resilience. The journey has not been easy, but it has been immensely rewarding. Today, I stand proud of the person I am becoming, someone who embraces life with passion and a deep appreciation for the lessons learned along the way.

Communication was key; sharing my struggles with loved ones provided the emotional support I desperately needed. Taking on new challenges required humility, as I was essentially starting from scratch. While many of my friends were establishing families and thriving careers, I was embarking on a new chapter of my life that required the humility it takes to restart from the bottom.

This experience was crucial in helping me understand that stepping away from football was not a defeat but an opportunity for growth. Transitioning to a Business Development Representative for an athletic supply company further illustrated that dedication and hard work could lead to success in any field. My experience as an athlete laid a solid foundation of discipline, resilience, and teamwork, qualities that are transferable to all walks of life.

Over time, I shifted my perspective; I began to feel gratitude for my time as a football player rather than fear of being labeled a "has-been." Accepting that chapter of my life had ended, I shifted my focus to applying everything the game had taught me to what came next. That shift in mindset didn’t just help me move forward, it became the foundation for every win that followed.

Reflecting on my journey, I understand that many athletes face similar dark periods when they finally hang up their cleats for good. If I could offer any advice to younger athletes, it would be this: Understand that your playing days will eventually come to an end, so prepare for that inevitability now. I want you all to go pro, so swing for the fences. Pursue excellence with relentless focus but stay grounded in the reality that only a small fraction of athletes reach the professional level. After accepting that, make every moment of development count, on and off the field.

Have a plan for life after the final whistle blows, whether that day comes early or years down the road. If you wait until your knee gives out two weeks before the NFL Draft, it’s too late. Anticipate the emotional weight of the transition and prepare for it now. Most athletes won’t make it to the pros, and that’s not negativity, it’s reality. So build your roadmap now. You may never need it, but I’ve always lived by the saying:

 “It’s better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.”

Being an athlete isn’t just about games, it’s a lifelong lesson in resilience, identity, and growth. Every early morning, every tough rep, every sacrifice, it all built more than muscle. It built habits, mindset, and character. Those traits? They don’t retire when you do. They simply become the reason you excel in whatever passion you pursue in the next phase of your life. 

The work ethic you sharpened chasing the dream, it’s the same fuel that will power you into whatever comes next. Teamwork, discipline, grit, strategic thinking, these aren’t just skills, they’re your foundation. They’re your edge.

This next chapter? It’s yours to shape. Let what sports gave you fuel more than your survival after the game, let it shape how you rise, adapt, and grow through every new chapter. Because your playing days were just the start. What comes next is where your legacy really begins.

Life is not merely a checklist of successes or failures; it transforms into a continuous pursuit of growth, learning, and excellence. Each experience, whether a victory celebrated, or a defeat endured, carries the potential for insight and understanding.

You may find that you are not the same person you once were, but that transformation is part of your evolution. You will emerge as a different type of great, one who understands that true value lies not just in the outcomes but in the richness of every part of every process you mastered along the way. Every game played, every hurdle overcome, has contributed to the tapestry of who you are becoming.

These lessons will illuminate your path, turning challenges into opportunities and setbacks into the steppingstones needed to accomplish a new achievement. Embrace every stage of this journey and anticipate the personal growth that stems from each decision and direction you choose.

Remember that this chapter is not an ending, but a vibrant continuation, a chance to grow, forge connections, and make your mark on the world. As you embrace the future, do so with gratitude for the past and excitement for the limitless potential that lies ahead.

You cannot change what has already happened, nor can you control what the future holds. You can only live your life knowing that every experience you've encountered, every failure, every success, and everything in between has prepared you to be exactly where you are in this moment.

So, Carpe Diem that shit!