By:John Sparenberg jsheynow@gmail.com
Every player has a learning curve when they climb to next step on the hockey ladder regardless of how talented or highly touted they were at their prior level. It doesn’t matter if that player is a second round draft pick (of the Capitals in 1986) like Steve Seftel, or an undrafted one, like Liam O’Brien.
Often, the term, “it’s like men against boys,” is bandied about in hockey when talking about how a battle-tested player, usually one who is bigger, stronger, and faster than their young, upstart opponents, dominates them in battles on the ice.
Overlooked in that dominance is the mental hurdle that the youngsters face not only on the ice where their experienced rivals have an edge on them due to already knowing the intricacies of the league in addition to the nuances of the rinks, but also off the ice, having already settled into their day-to-day life at that level, giving them another distinct advantage.
With the combination of all of the uphill battles that the youngsters face, it's a safe bet to assume that many prospects over the years have either never made it to the pro ranks, or had their careers fall way short of expectations if they did. Some of these situations are caused by mental health challenges that they struggled with, and Seftel, 51, and long-retired after playing only four games in the NHL with the Caps, could be considered Exhibit A. He has literally made his career and struggles an open book with the release of his recent book, Shattered Ice, which he describes as "my hockey odyssey while suffering silently from health issues I didn't understand.”
Seftel's first panic attack happened when he was only 16 years of age, an occurred when he was stuck on an elevator in Czechoslovakia while participating in a hockey tournament. However, he shrugged it off thinking, "it's just who I am, and this is how it's going to be." He never imagined that what he experienced had been caused by an illness.
A few years later, after leaving his home in Kitchener to play junior in Kingston, Seftel's symptoms kicked into high gear when he got his first real taste of the "men against boys" situation he was going to be confronting on the ice, a scenario that replayed again in his mind a few years later when he left home to turn pro with the Baltimore Skipjacks.
"Going to Juniors at 17, you’re really just a young guy going into grade 12, and then turning pro at 20 is a big challenge for guys that age, being on your own, doing your own cooking, getting your own place to live. You’re literally forced to be a man, and you are also now playing against men, but you have to battle through it and do the best you can."
Seftel continued, pointing to a popular comparison with his personal experiences as proof of his cases. "That’s the disadvantage of guys who play junior hockey in Canada versus those who play college hockey in the U.S. If you play junior, you’re only as old as 20 when you turn pro, but if you play college hockey in the U.S., you can turn pro at 23-24 years of age, and I think you’re much better prepared mentally at that age. I often compare myself to Keith Jones (a former Capital, Bear, and Flyer, who currently works on NHL broadcasts for various networks). We are the same age and I played against Keith as a kid in minor hockey, but he wasn’t drafted to the Ontario Hockey League, so he took the longer route (playing college hockey at Western Michigan). I was drafted to the OHL, and played three years junior and turned pro at 20, while he played Junior B and then got a scholarship. I remember when he came to the Caps at 24, he was a rookie and I had already been there for four years. I felt old and felt like old news, and here he is, this fresh face who is the same age, but he had four years to develop in college."
In Seftel's time, the only type of team testing was of the physical nature, and at best you may have periodically had a visit or received a phone call from someone in the organization that drafted you during your season in whatever league in which you were biding your time. Communication was done at training camp, with the player otherwise left to wallow in his own thoughts what was being thought of or said of you.
Today, players got through extensive testing both prior to and after being drafted, and organizations make a pronounced effort to keep in touch with their prospects, offering developmental coaches and a vast array of resources to help them be the best they can be not only as a player, but also as a person due to realizing that physical and mental health go hand-in-hand. Yet, when asked if he would have come out to discuss his struggles with a developmental coach or some other authority during his playing days, after a long pause to ponder the question, Seftel said that he would not have come forth.
"Only because in that timeframe, mental health wasn’t discussed. I never heard anyone talk about anything mental health related until two years ago, prior to my diagnosis. Up until that point, it was never discussed at home. It was never discussed in the locker room, and if it was, it was discussed in a negative fashion. It wasn’t seen in any way as something that you would want to share."
Seftel, continued, delving deeper into his rationale. "I didn’t fear that I would be exposed, but what I feared was showing weakness, and there is a difference there. Mental illness wasn’t even part of the language back then; the fear was being labeled weak. When you play a contact sport like hockey, or even football, weakness isn’t part of that makeup. Starting from a young age, you’re groomed as being anything but weak, so it doesn’t jive or go along with the mentality we’re trained to have and the way you’re trained to play. So, that was my bigger fear, to be labeled as someone who didn’t have the strength to move on to the next level, mentally or physically."
Longtime Bears backers will remember Seftel from the four seasons he spent with their former arch rivals, the Baltimore Skipjacks, a team that the Bears faced frequently due to clubs being separated by less than 100 miles. That familiarity led to many spirited battles at the Bears' den at the time, the fabled HERSHEYPARK Arena, a building he calls his favorite in the AHL. HPA has distinctive, steep seating that went straight up with not a single seat having an obstructed view gave opposition players the feeling that fans were right on top of them. That architectural achievement, amazing for 1930's construction, seemingly would fluster a player dealing with the inner turmoil that Seftel did, but that wasn't the case, and he had some of his better games as a Skipjack on HERSHEYPARK Drive, including an overtime winner.
"One thing hockey players are very good at, and I was also good at, is compartmentalizing. When you got into game mode and put your game face on, you left the other stuff behind you, and things didn’t really come back to you until the game ended. I’d go through my normal game- day routine. You’d have the butterflies and anxiousness, but you always able to and had to focus on the game. That’s part of your job as a professional. You had to put the other stuff in your back pocket. Going in there didn’t really affect me (from the mental aspect). It was the rivalry that was the bigger part of it."
Liam O'Brien's odyssey to the pros is remarkably similar to Seftel's, taking a mental detour in junior hockey, but unlike Seftel who suffered in relative silence for many years, he reached out and also reached deep within, getting to know his inner self better by educating himself on his own brain.
"It's not an easy job being a professional athlete by any means; there’s a lot of pressure on you and. I had the hardest time with it as a kid. I was a 16-17 year old going into junior, and I was up against a lot of men who were 20 years old. That’s when I had my struggles. It was more of a day-to-day thing where I got into a negative, low groove, and I guess you could say it almost felt like the word was out to get me. I think that was just a mindset thing for me though. The biggest thing that I did was I started to read about it, and opened my mind up to new ways of thinking. And I think that’s what transformed to the way I am today.
"You’re going to have good days and bad days, and you just want to make sure you have more good than bad. That’s how I try to live my life. I try to get into a routine that I have on a day-to day basis where I try to be the best, not only hockey player, but the best person I can be every day. I think that’s where it starts. When you feel good about who you are every day, put yourself in a positive environment, and lead yourself in the right direction. It helps in the (mental) area a lot. That’s something I really had to focus on, and I had to do that as a teenager to get myself out of that funk that I had gotten into."
O'Brien confesses that there have still been tough times during seasons where he's had to face adversity, but says we all do, and he believes that continuously facing it down and not ignoring it grows you by making your stronger, and subsequently healthier.
"I’ve helped a lot of guys. I just try to get them to stay as positive as they can. I think especially when you’re in the minors, it’s tougher for guys to stay positive. It’s a different kind of lifestyle because you’re always trying to get to the next level and sometimes the movement isn’t going your way, and the bounces aren’t going your way,” said O’Brien, who has sharpened his goal-scoring skills down on the farm with Bears, averaging 16 markers the last two seasons.
Flashing an unexpected smile that could only be perceived as saying he is accepting of his circumstances, a sure sign of his mental maturity and durability, O'Brien continued. "I won’t say I’m an older guy, but I’m a vet now. So that means I’ve had my years, and I’ve been able to see guys get into funks like that. You don’t want to jump in and say like hey man you should (whatever), you just maybe throw some ideas at them and try to getting them thinking differently and just support them. Everybody is coming from a different place, and I think you need to understand that, especially in hockey where everybody is coming from different parts of the world, and everybody is in a different situation. You really need to understand and respect that and that’s one thing that I’ve really tried to do and that also includes helping the European guys that come over and they really don’t understand at first how things work when they come over. I’ve been there, and I can help guys out because I’ve been there.”
There are a multitude of reasons that we do not seek help when we know we have a mental illness. It may be fear of losing a job or not getting a promotion, or being perceived as weak for admitting you are not perfect. If you've ever had a mental illness, or are currently dealing with one, you are well aware that you learn to become very adept in the art of keeping your symptoms and your struggles within, or hiding them from others, But the truth is, letting go of the false facade, as both Seftel and O'Brien did, won't necessarily cure you, but it certainly will lighten the load of the burden that you are carrying within.
"I always had OCD, and I wasn’t diagnosed, but I definitely knew it, and friends and family certainly observed it. But again, we didn’t talk about mental illness, and OCD was something that I could live with and deal with day to day, and it wasn’t really bothering anybody, so that’s probably another reason that I didn’t seek treatment sooner,” said Seftel who was only recently officially diagnosed with OCD, anxiety and panic attacks.
Seftel continued, his story serving as a caution to what can happen when you keep your symptoms contained. "Then the anxiety started to turn to panic, and panic is the most terrorizing form of anxiety. That’s what became debilitating for me. The OCD led to anxiety, and the anxiety compounded the panic attacks, and that’s what forced me to seek medical intervention. When you have a panic attack, you think you are going to die, and you feel you are in imminent danger, but it’s really your brain lying to you. When those started to happen I didn’t want to leave the house, and I also started to have physical symptoms at that point where my joints, my knees and shoulders started swelling, and I actually couldn’t even get out of bed. So not only was I mentally ill, but I was also becoming physically ill. When I talked to my doctor, he said it was all related and triggered by the mental illness."