Larry Sanders: From Milwaukee’s Bucks to Mental Wellness
“I love basketball, and if I get to a point where I feel I’m capable of playing basketball again, I will. I’ve had to make the difficult decision to follow my intuition, and allow myself the space and time to explore my true purpose in life.” — Larry Sanders
In the landscape of professional sports there may not be anything as compelling as the NBA playoffs.
Multiple teams across time zones celebrate with fans in their respective geographic allegiances. They come together to find their identity each spring- which is a metaphor for how each of us works to find our direction and path in life and wellness.
Spring is a time for renewal and for driving home the importance of goals.
To that point the Milwaukee Bucks have had a phenomenal 2018–2019 season reaching 60 wins for the first time in nearly forty years while earning the number one seed in the Eastern Conference.
But it’s the absence of a once transcendent player who, at his peak, was the driving force behind a resurgence in the team nestled at the high point of Lake Michigan- not just on the court, but in the community.
Larry Sanders knew challenge. He defined it.
Growing up in the overlooked bayou town of Fort Pierce, Florida Sanders had to be coaxed into playing basketball. Initially, it was a struggle. He endured growth spurt after growth spurt, filling out to a rangy 6’9” tall by his junior season leading Port Saint Lucie to the Florida Class 5A semifinals.
After attracting the typical power schools’ attention (read: Florida, Florida State) he ultimately enrolled at the off-the-map mid major program of Virginia Commonwealth University.
But he wasn’t fulfilled.
Not in that way that we typically think a person is when they do something that, on the surface, might seem to matter.
Sports can be like that.
A fleeting dunk or highlight reel pass to win the game.
The sound of the crowd deafening, the replay shown over and over and over again.
Fate discovered and futures hanging in the balance.
And for Larry Sanders basketball was an escape as much as it was an opportunity for something more.
The NBA draft came and went in 2010 with Sanders being selected by the Bucks. Initially, he feared the transition. From sometime dominant force at an off-the-radar school to growing rotation player in the bigs.
It was heady stuff.
But even he couldn’t deny, as one season swept into the next that he was good. Really good at this game on the hardwood and ultimately he relished the role.
But something strange happened on the way to the top as he averaged double figures, rebounds and blocks.
He panicked. Uncertainty in the seemingly solid foundation based on fame and sudden fortune.
He acknowledged that many people over their lives have dreamed of making it to the NBA. The pinnacle of basketball.
However, for Sanders, the riches simply weren’t his definition of happiness.
“As a person who grew up with nothing, I know money is important. I’m incredibly grateful to have had the chance to play in the NBA. But at the same time, that’s not what fuels me. I’ve never chased money. It’s never been how I define success. Happiness isn’t behind a golden gate.”
He endured multiple drug-related suspensions from 2013–2015.
The game suddenly became a burden. His joy on the four taken away. Clouded by addiction.
That led him to enter into a program at Rogers Memorial Hospital in Milwaukee for anxiety, depression and mood disorders.
Entering treatment can be a huge component of wellness. Dedication to the things a person needs to do to find out their specific needs and outline goals with the support of medical professionals.
Ultimately, Sanders said that the program led him to realize “what’s important, and where I would want to devote my time and energy” and that ultimately he realized that “for [basketball] to be consuming so much of my life and time right now … it’s not there for me. It’s not that worth it.”
What has been worth it has been rediscovering the priorities that make life worth living.
In his time away from basketball, Sanders has created an artist collective, a clothing line, and a non-profit organization named Citizen of Matter.
All things that provide a sense of purpose and which have helped him navigate the path towards wellness and recovery.
If you or someone you know is struggling please reach out for help. The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is available 24 hours a day seven days a week at (1–800–273-TALK [8255]).
For more digital mental health content check out www.kevinhinesstory.com and look for us on Instagram and on YouTube!
And don’t forget you can also text CNQR to 741–741 if you’re in crisis and need support.
