Identifying with Ricky Williams, the loner

This piece from Yahoo! Sports paints a fascinating picture of NFL player Ricky Williams, who is perhaps best remembered, at least in this country, since he's immortalised in Mike Carlson's catchphrase, "and that pass was high, but not in the Ricky Williams sense," referring to the player's use of marijuana.

It talks about him being diagnosed with "social anxiety disorder", although I see so many traits here that just remind me of my own introversion, and I am very suspicious of things that take a condition or way of being and label it as a "disorder". But the lived reality is what's important.

Inside the Baltimore Ravens’ locker room the air is alive. Players argue about a bean-bag toss game they play after practices, then mock a teammate who has inexplicably decided to do an interview naked. Music thumps. Giant men laugh, and their laughter rattles off cinder block walls in the symphony of a football team that feels invincible.

Only Ricky Williams sits alone.

He is huddled on a stool in front of his locker, sweat clothes on, ready to leave. It’s a strange image, loaded with contrasts.

...

He’s here because he isn’t ready to give up the game, because there is still a private joy in walking into a room like this, pulling on pads and standing on a Sunday sideline.

I can definitely identify with that, although I don't have the achievements or prowess in any particular field (and certainly not sports) that Mr Williams has. But the quiet pride private joy of doing the job as part of a team, even though not feeling in the team, is something that I recognise and carry with me whenever I am working with people. Similarly, although I will start off in a big celebration, I quickly need to sit out, and would prefer to be the Ricky Williams figure as described there.

I was also fascinated to read of Mr Williams' interest in Carl Jung (I like reading Jung too!), and wanting to be a psychiatrist once his sporting career has ended. It sounds to me like he really wants to be able to help others - support the team effort, without having to be part of the Team.

The article explains:

Williams is friendly with the other Ravens players but there isn’t a great connection.

...

On another team, one with greater expectations for him, he might be uncomfortable. But the Ravens’ locker room is always carefree and Harbaugh has a boyish enthusiasm. Everybody seems secure. The coaches don’t yell much. And that fits Williams at this point in his life. Here he is content to fade into the background.

...

He doesn’t fit the box the game makes all the players squeeze inside, but the Ravens aren’t trying to box him. They leave him alone. He can be whatever he wants just as long as he’s there to spell Rice when the situation demands.

I'm kind of jealous of that relationship with an organisation (there again, being jobless at the moment makes me jealous of anyone with gainful employment!)

I'm going to close with two snippets of life wisdom from the article:

“I don’t feel [the fear],” Williams says. “I was talking to my doctor about this the other day. And because I have found something that I love and that I want to do when I’m done I’m sure I’m going to miss it, but because I’ve been able to look that monster in the face I’ll be better prepared. Some people are afraid of it so they try to delay it as long as they can.”

Then he remembers something John Mackovic, his coach at Texas, said when he told him he was staying for his senior year. “Don’t ever have any regrets,” Mackovic said. “Make a decision and stick with it.”