The awareness of depression (and mental health more broadly) is slowly gaining ground in society, but it remains a taboo topic in the realm of sports.
In absolute terms, it’s quite simple to understand. Sports is the realm of performance; at least, that’s largely how it is portrayed. It’s about victory, hard work, sacrifice; we’re inundated with clichés about “winning,” the “winners” we’re supposed to accept as the ultimate pinnacle of civilization.
A team that wins and brings a stadium to its feet, we agree, is fabulous. An athlete who exceeds expectations and inspires others is remarkable, but as Valérie Kondos Field, voted Coach of the Century, says: “Victory isn’t everything.” She knows the price of excess in gymnastics.
We still believe in the idea, formulated a few years ago, that sport and society contradict each other. As demands for equality continue to grow, with the word “selection” becoming a scarecrow in educational circles, and as Western societies increasingly expect more support, sports are built on an unforgiving elitist logic. Only one will remain, the winner.
The institutions of modern sports have made competition and elite performance their primary raison d’être, their central narrative, the goal around which practices are structured from the grassroots level, and ultimately, the showcase and “product” for the media-driven aspect.
Competition exists and it has its virtues, but let’s use this film “As Strong as Fragile” to explain that as the level of demand, accompanying the explosion of financial stakes, continues to increase, all of this also produces collateral damage that nobody wishes to highlight. And yet, examples abound in all sports.
Ironically, sport is one of the cures for depression. What can we conclude? That the discourse of sports must change, that it must learn the nuance between strength and fragility, that elite level is a form of excess. Indeed, a few months before the Olympics, it would take courage, but the credibility of sports-health is also at stake.
