Suck It Up, Buttercup
My degree, certification and licensure tell everyone I’m an athletic trainer (AT). My heart however, tells a different story. I’m more than an AT. I’m an advocate. An advocate for my athletes; for their safety and well-being. Prior to COVID-19 taking the world by storm, I was a practicing AT—and a decade into my roller coaster of a career. Through all of the ups and downs, twist and turns, I have loved my athletes dearly. Often times people will ask me if I have any kids and I will somewhat jokingly respond by saying, “Yes, a couple hundred of them”.
Being an AT certainly has its perks; front row seats to sporting events and meeting incredible athletes just to name a couple. But with every perk comes a drawback or downside of some sort, as we all know. In my profession, ATs are no stranger to that and I’m not just talking long days and crazy schedules. If you know what we do, you may have a better understanding of what I’m talking about.
I’m sure most of you reading this have been to a sporting event. You know—the ones where every fan suddenly morphs into an athlete, coach and official all at once. Gosh, what a nightmare! Usually, I am on the bench or sideline with my teams, and don’t have the luxury of hearing all the garbage that is spewed from the stands. But sometimes I do. Sometimes it’s hard to tune out.
Among the various obscenities that are yelled, I’ll also hear—“You’re the worst!” “You don’t know what you’re doing!” “You’re making the kids soft!” I shake my head in discontent as I pretend not to hear it. In my head I’m thinking about how awful these coaches must feel, listening to all the critics screaming at them.
Then it hits me! Wait—these people aren’t yelling at the coaches. These comments are being directed at me. I’m not the one calling plays. But I am the one calling the shots when it comes to injuries and returning athletes to play. As I stand on the sideline, I’m constantly scanning and very aware of everything going on around me. As soon as an injury happens and I run out onto the field, my mind immediately shifts and my focus is devoted to that situation; even as my evaluation carries back on the sideline. As a result, I don’t hear all the background chatter that goes on. Probably a good thing and even better quality to have as an athletic trainer. Tune out the bullshit! Once I make a decision regarding the status of my injured athlete, my attention quickly reverts back to being hyperaware of all my surroundings.
Being yelled at from a distance rarely bothers me, even when I know I’m the target. To me, it’s kind of like being cat-called; super annoying but not worth my energy to acknowledge. I haven’t yet described the fun of being screamed at up close and personal—6-inches from my face; pre-mask era I might add. Those times are the worst! They require a thicker skin and an unbelievable amount of patience and self-control. Sometimes, I amaze myself as I bite my tongue and resist the urge to defend myself and my decision. Other times, I’ll get a slight jab in because I’m pissed. I’m not angry with being yelled at or questioned. I’m annoyed that a parent or adult for that matter, doesn’t care about the health and well-being of their child as much as I do. They would rather see their kid out on that field, no matter what.
Years ago, when I heard all the belittling comments, it would make my blood boil. Other times it would even make me cry (not in public of course) because it was so harsh. It would bring out so much self-doubt and questioning. It sucked. Sometimes, just for the shock factor, I would ask people if they were done and felt better—after they yelled me. Talk about pissing someone off. It was glorious! However a decade later, I simply laugh it off.
Plenty of times I had to ask myself if it was worth getting upset or having my feelings hurt over ignorance or even stupidity? The answer—is always NO. My decisions never wavered in the face of adversity, although I always felt the pressure. I’m good at what I do and I know that. Call it cocky if you want. I call it confidence. I call it grit. I call it integrity.
As I stated earlier, I’m an advocate for my athletes. It’s what I do. This means taking care of them is my #1 priority, regardless of what anyone else thinks. My decisions are always made in the best interest of my athlete. Not the parents. Not the coaches. Not the fans. Not the administrators. No one! This may come out harsh and I mean it as nicely as possible, but I don’t care about any of them.
Maybe I should rephrase it so I don’t come off as a total asshole—I do care about them. However, their opinions and advice are not welcome when I’m making a sometimes crucial decision regarding the health and well-being of an athlete. I do however, welcome their support of my decisions to provide the best care that I possibly can.
Another harsh reality—Wins. Losses. Not my problem.
I love when my teams are winning and doing well. I love to be a part of that exciting energy, but not if it’s at the expense of a kid. I have worked with fantastic coaches over the years, that love and care for the kids. At the same token, coaches will push the envelope with injuries. It doesn’t ever come as a surprise. Sometimes it’s simply because they don’t understand the severity of making a risky decision when it comes to an injury. After all, it should never be their call anyways. That’s why ATs exist. We make those tough calls! We assume that liability!
Coaches want to win. I get it. Many times, their job depends on it. Some of the coaches I have worked with over the years, are the “win at all costs” type. Even at the high school level. It’s crazy the things they will try to hide, the risks they will take, the injury cover ups, just to keep a kid on the field. Guys, I’m not talking injuries like I twisted my knee and it hurts. I’m talking major head injuries. I’m talking kids that will never make a full recovery as a result.
I’m thankful to have built a rapport with my kiddos. They all know I love them, care about them and want nothing but the very best for them. Occasionally, they will be upset with a decision I have made on their behalf, especially in the middle of a big game, but they understand why. I am always thorough when explaining their injury and the risks of returning them without further evaluation. I will NEVER do anything to jeopardize the health of an athlete. EVER! I don’t care what kind of pressure I’m under. Scream at me. Throw a tantrum. Call me what you need to. I will NOT cave. Not to anyone!
Many of us are in tough careers. We are faced with tough decisions. Always be confident in your work and decisions. Always act with integrity. And most importantly, suck it up, buttercup. Don’t let having your feelings hurt get in the way of what you need to do. And remember—
“A lion doesn’t lose sleep over the opinion of sheep.”