Michael Phelps: A golden shoulder to lean on
New York Times|
Updated: Sep 23, 2017, 01.06 AM IST
Commodity Summary MCX
| GOLD |
By Karen Crouse
Nearly a week into their most recent therapeutic reunion, Michael Phelps and Grant Hackett, two giants of Olympic swimming, sat down to breakfast at a packed restaurant and wondered how they would explain themselves to their children someday. They were reliving dark moments, times when they posed a danger to themselves and others.
Phelps, 32, imagined the day when his toddler son, Boomer, would refer to one of those low points: "You were going 86 miles an hour in a 45-mile zone. Why can't I?"
Hackett, 37, laughed ruefully and told Phelps he had already spoken with a child psychologist about how to guide his 8-year-old twins through the shambles of his post-swimming life. "There will be conversations that need to be had," Hackett said, "and a certain strength you'll have to find."
Such exchanges are the reason Hackett traveled 8,000 miles from Australia to Arizona last month to stay with Phelps and his wife, Nicole. It was not his first visit. He has used their home as something of a halfway house, joking that he spends so much time with them that he is getting mail there.
His life in Australia started careening out of control several years ago. In February, it derailed in a very public fashion. He visited his parents' Gold Coast home, and his father, Neville, called the police to report that Hackett had been drinking and had suffered a mental breakdown that sent him into a rage. The Olympian was taken to a detention center in handcuffs — a scene that was broadcast across Australia and set off a social media frenzy.
Phelps, who considers Hackett one of his dearest friends, followed the drama from Paris, where he and Nicole spent Valentine's Day. Nicole Phelps recalled her husband saying several times, with increasing urgency, "We've to convince him to come home with us."
Phelps could empathize with Hackett in a way few others could. Along with his 28 Olympic medals, Phelps accrued two arrests for driving under the influence — the second one after the police stopped him for going almost twice the speed limit on a road in Baltimore, his hometown.
After the second DUI arrest, in 2014, Phelps spent eight weeks at the Meadows, an Arizona treatment center, to deal with the anxiety and depression that he had tried to overcome on his own after the 2004, 2008 and 2012 Olympics. Recognizing how difficult it is for many people to recognize their vulnerabilities and reach out for help, Phelps has devoted himself to unraveling the stigma of mental illness.
"I want to be able to get out in public and talk and say, 'Yes, I've done these great things in the pool, but I'm also a human,'" Phelps said, sweeping his gaze across the restaurant. "I'm going through the same struggles as a lot of the people in this room."
Phelps has started some public speaking on the topic and has become an informal counselor to the stars, lending an ear to golfer Tiger Woods after his arrest in May on charges of driving under the influence. A toxicology report revealed no alcohol in Woods' system, but rather a mix of four prescription drugs and the active ingredient in marijuana.
Over the summer, Phelps said, he met an 11-year-old boy in California who had appeared in a documentary about anxiety. The boy was a swimmer, and he said he had wrestled with suicidal thoughts the year before. Phelps told the boy about the days he spent curled up in bed, "literally wanting to die," after his second DUI arrest.
At the end of the conversation, Phelps said, the boy told him, "I have more in common with Michael Phelps than I ever thought." Hackett, a rapt listener, said, "That's awesome."
A COMFORT ZONE
There are few places where Phelps and Hackett feel more at ease than at Scottsdale National, a golf course contoured from the McDowell Mountains that offers sweeping views of Phoenix and a wellspring of tranquility.
Another refuge is the water. On a recent morning, they swam for an hour in an Arizona State pool. Hackett and Phelps regularly raced in front of standing-room-only crowds. On this day, their audience consisted of a lifeguard.
Once they swam for medals and records, for a place in history. In retirement they swim to free their minds, to commune with the water. What used to be a high-stress profession has morphed into a peaceful interlude.
Nearly a week into their most recent therapeutic reunion, Michael Phelps and Grant Hackett, two giants of Olympic swimming, sat down to breakfast at a packed restaurant and wondered how they would explain themselves to their children someday. They were reliving dark moments, times when they posed a danger to themselves and others.
Phelps, 32, imagined the day when his toddler son, Boomer, would refer to one of those low points: "You were going 86 miles an hour in a 45-mile zone. Why can't I?"
Hackett, 37, laughed ruefully and told Phelps he had already spoken with a child psychologist about how to guide his 8-year-old twins through the shambles of his post-swimming life. "There will be conversations that need to be had," Hackett said, "and a certain strength you'll have to find."
Such exchanges are the reason Hackett traveled 8,000 miles from Australia to Arizona last month to stay with Phelps and his wife, Nicole. It was not his first visit. He has used their home as something of a halfway house, joking that he spends so much time with them that he is getting mail there.
His life in Australia started careening out of control several years ago. In February, it derailed in a very public fashion. He visited his parents' Gold Coast home, and his father, Neville, called the police to report that Hackett had been drinking and had suffered a mental breakdown that sent him into a rage. The Olympian was taken to a detention center in handcuffs — a scene that was broadcast across Australia and set off a social media frenzy.
Phelps, who considers Hackett one of his dearest friends, followed the drama from Paris, where he and Nicole spent Valentine's Day. Nicole Phelps recalled her husband saying several times, with increasing urgency, "We've to convince him to come home with us."
Phelps could empathize with Hackett in a way few others could. Along with his 28 Olympic medals, Phelps accrued two arrests for driving under the influence — the second one after the police stopped him for going almost twice the speed limit on a road in Baltimore, his hometown.
After the second DUI arrest, in 2014, Phelps spent eight weeks at the Meadows, an Arizona treatment center, to deal with the anxiety and depression that he had tried to overcome on his own after the 2004, 2008 and 2012 Olympics. Recognizing how difficult it is for many people to recognize their vulnerabilities and reach out for help, Phelps has devoted himself to unraveling the stigma of mental illness.
"I want to be able to get out in public and talk and say, 'Yes, I've done these great things in the pool, but I'm also a human,'" Phelps said, sweeping his gaze across the restaurant. "I'm going through the same struggles as a lot of the people in this room."
Phelps has started some public speaking on the topic and has become an informal counselor to the stars, lending an ear to golfer Tiger Woods after his arrest in May on charges of driving under the influence. A toxicology report revealed no alcohol in Woods' system, but rather a mix of four prescription drugs and the active ingredient in marijuana.
Over the summer, Phelps said, he met an 11-year-old boy in California who had appeared in a documentary about anxiety. The boy was a swimmer, and he said he had wrestled with suicidal thoughts the year before. Phelps told the boy about the days he spent curled up in bed, "literally wanting to die," after his second DUI arrest.
At the end of the conversation, Phelps said, the boy told him, "I have more in common with Michael Phelps than I ever thought." Hackett, a rapt listener, said, "That's awesome."
A COMFORT ZONE
There are few places where Phelps and Hackett feel more at ease than at Scottsdale National, a golf course contoured from the McDowell Mountains that offers sweeping views of Phoenix and a wellspring of tranquility.
Another refuge is the water. On a recent morning, they swam for an hour in an Arizona State pool. Hackett and Phelps regularly raced in front of standing-room-only crowds. On this day, their audience consisted of a lifeguard.
Once they swam for medals and records, for a place in history. In retirement they swim to free their minds, to commune with the water. What used to be a high-stress profession has morphed into a peaceful interlude.
