The Carolina Panthers were forced to make an adjustment before training camp began when Jonathan Martin announced his retirement from the NFL. He had a chance to win the starting right tackle job, get his career back on track and make a fresh start with an organization that could have developed him in a way teams before had failed. What we learned is that Martin's problems extended far beyond poor play or a bullying scandal, the NFL was destroying his life.
Martin wrote an almost-1,000 word statement on his life up to this point and why he could no longer play in the NFL. It's powerful, and I came away fully understanding why he needed to hang it up -- even if it hurt the Panthers. Here is his piece in full:
"You move to Los Angeles at 10 & attend JTD, then Harvard Westlake, both environments are completely new to you. You're one of just a handful of minorities in elite private schools. You learn to tone down your size & blackness by becoming shy, introverted, friendly, so you won't scare the little rich white kids or their parents. Neither black nor white people accept you because they don't undertand you. It takes away your self-confidence, your self-worth, your sanity.
You've been told you're not "black enough" your entire life. It nearly destroys you, many times, not fitting in. Your talent & accomplishments on the field never seem to be able to overcome the demons that you carry with you from your middle school and high school experiences. You're always inadequate, always the "pussy," the "weird kid who acts white."
You overcompensate, create a persona separate from who you really are, use it as motivation to gain respect from playing a game. Make a fool of yourself at times. Anything in the quest to one day to feel "cool." You see football as the only thing that you are good at, your only avenue to make the shy, depressed, weird kid from high school "cool." To the outside world many assume you to be somewhat egotistical, womanizing, over-the-top; a typical football player.
Years later, your time in the NFL is a wake up call. In all likelihood anyone else in your shitty locker room situation probably wouldn't take everything so personally, would've been able to brush it off and say "fuck it," you're making millions. You're starting as a rookie. You're living your dream." But you're different. Have always been different. Have always been more sensitive.
You thought your same work ethic that had made you a two-time All-America, a 2nd Rd NFL draft pick, would earn you respect. After all, you have achieved what only a select few other first-year players achieved: starting all 16 games, barely missing a snap.
You are very wrong. You realize years later, reflecting on your experiences, that sometimes you need to take what you want, what you earned, from people who refuse to give it to you. You need to demand respect, and be willing to fight for it every day. The whitewashed, hermetically-sealed bubble you grew up in and were educated in did not provide any of these lessons.
You were raised in a good household. You know you are a flawed person. Have done stupid, regrettable things. But you know right from wrong. And consider integrity to be incredibly important. The worst thing of all, in your mind, is being called a liar.
Your job leads you to attempt to kill yourself on multiple occasions. Your self-perceived social inadequacy dominates your every waking moment & thought. You're petrified of going to work. You either sleep 12, 14, 16 hours a day when you can, or not at all. You drink too much, smoke weed constantly, have trouble focusing on doing your job, playing the sport that you grew up obsessed with.
But one day, you realize how absurd your current mindset is, that this shit doesn't matter. People don't matter. Money doesn't matter. Fame and notoriety sure as hell don't matter. Nothing matters besides your family, a few close friends, and your own personal happiness.
You play another year and a half and get badly injured. You want to keep playing, but having broken free of the addition that football has been, you know inside that risking permanent debilitating injury isn't worth it. So you retire.
You realize that your experiences have taught you that you need to leave the baggage behind. "Friends" who you played high school football with saying whatever to get their name in an article. Former coaches blowing up your phone trying to be your financial advisor. Your god father suddenly appearing your senior year of college out of thin air bearing gifts, trying to get tickets to your games & slyly asking your parents to manage your money.
You realize who truly has had your back. Who the people are who you need to embrace. And cherish every moment you have with them. You let your demons go, knowing that, perhaps, sharing your story can help some other chubby, goofy, socially-isolated, sensitive kid getting bullied in American who feels like no on in the world cares about them.
And let them know that they aren't alone."
The reaction to Martin's piece has run the gamut. Many are lauding the bravery it takes to be so open and admit things like attempting suicide, racial identity and not fitting in -- many more are slamming him for being "soft" and throwing many of the same epithets Martin discussed here.
It's a weird time in the NFL. Proud traditions of football are trying to reconcile themselves against the overwhelming evidence that players are leaving the game physically and mentally broken. Sure it might not be as immediate and visceral as watching someone get run through with a sword in a Roman Colosseum, but make no mistake: The NFL is our modern gladiatorial combat.
Steps are being taken to make the game safer, which is controversial to purists who see the game needing to stay in step with tradition. This causes a great many football fans to double-down on any signs of sensitivity and label them as "weakness" or "being soft." What is clear is that Martin was simply a man who wasn't cut out for professional football, and that's okay. What's important is that he's come to terms with who he is and trying to get his life back on track; perhaps making a difference in kid's lives who feel the same way.
It takes immense physical toughness to throw yourself into the trenches of the NFL and see whose body breaks first, but it's a lot more difficult to run face-first into stigma in order to speak your truth.