Why Larry Sanders Had to Go

On the same day that Derrick Rose had basketball taken from him, Larry Sanders announced that he was walking away from the game. Rose just wanted to play and now he can’t. Sanders is no Derrick Rose, but he’s still a major talent. His last two seasons have been no less tumultuous. And while Rose suffers in street clothes, Sanders will cast aside his Bucks jersey — and be happier for it.

Sanders isn’t the first professional athlete to walk away from his sport. The standard-bearer is Ricky Williams, seemingly built to play football but never quite comfortable with it. For all the talk about hitting the genetic lottery, what’s in the head and heart counts just as much as what the body can do. That disconnect is very real in some people. You can’t force someone to be an athlete, no matter what their physique or natural feel for a sport. It’s as impossible as trying to turn a well-intentioned, passionate fan into a starter for their team.

In basketball, we’ve seen this same thing happen recently with Royce White. In White’s case, the problem, if you want to call it that, arose primarily from anxiety disorder. According to his Players Tribune video, Sanders has some of that going, but he also likes smoking weed and has plenty of interests outside of basketball.

(Sidenote: A cabbie changed my view of sports yesterday. He used to work in clubs in Portland, told me that players would come in all the time blazed as hell and never drink. He either was told or intuited that alcohol just didn’t do much for them. They were in such good shape, with such high metabolism, that to feel much of anything would’ve required taking in near-toxic levels of booze. He cited Dale Davis in particular, who certainly fits the bill of “dude whose body seems like it could be working too well for its own good.” Weed, on the other hand, doesn’t rely on the same physiological mechanisms. Actually, let me rephrase that: Getting high isn’t as literal as getting drunk. Anyway, now I’m convinced this is part of why athletes smoke so much. Now back to Larry Sanders.)

Sanders has his share of troubles, from pot-related suspensions and injuries to some episodes that now look like acting out. He was never your typical athlete and in some ways, it’s depressing that Sanders — like Williams — simply proves that anyone who stands out in professional sports might not want to be there in the first place. But as much as many of dream about taking an NBA court and swatting shots like Sanders once did, the fact remains that for him, it was a job. Maybe he enjoyed it at one point, but it wasn’t his lone interest. It was a source of frustration and reward like any work, and when he got over it, there was no turning back. Sanders didn’t quit basketball, he quit a gig that wasn’t a good fit for him, even if we can argue that he should’ve wanted to stay.

Maybe Sanders stuck with it just long enough to get that coveted big deal and then decided to bounce. Is that cynical or opportunistic of him? Or just practical? It’s a strategy that’s often scorned by fans and the media — “he’s in a contract year” — but in the case of someone like Sanders, in retrospect it was right for him. Williams ended up returning to football because he needed the money. Sanders, if he’s smart about his money, should be set for life, provided he doesn’t have the expensive taste of an athlete. From all we know about the man, that seems highly unlikely. He doesn’t seem perpetually lost and seeking like Williams. Then again, he also might have kids to support, just like Ricky.

Whatever Larry Sanders’s future is, there’s little doubt that, for the moment, he’s where he wants to be. I may have glossed over the mental health aspect of all this, and while I don’t doubt that Sanders has deeper problems to address, the identity crisis of having to be an athlete sounds harrowing. It’s a demanding, high-pressure environment even for people who want to be there. Imagine playing the NBA and wishing you were somewhere else. It’s like being launched into space when you’d rather be in Maui.

That’s why, as far as I can tell, no one’s criticizing Sanders for his decision. If he doesn’t want to play the game, the game doesn’t want him. Just as losing Rose again takes something away from basketball, fans will miss watching what Larry Sanders could do at his best. But, as I wrote yesterday about Rose, it’s not about us. It’s about these athletes as people. Derrick Rose feels far worse than you do. And at the moment, I’m guessing Larry Sanders is feeling way better than you are. For that, we should all be happy. It’s the human thing to do.