How I Totally Identified with Antonio Brown’s Career-Ending Tantrum
And why that makes me sad
As far as public meltdowns go, Antonio Brown’s on-field performance during the New York Jets/Tampa Bay Buccaneers football game was pretty damn memorable.
His teammate Mike Evans tried to calm him down, but Brown was having none of it. Dramatically, in front of a stadium full of fans and millions more on live TV, the NFL player ripped off his Bucs jersey, shoulder pads, gloves, and undershirt, and exited the game bare-chested, waving and gesturing to the end zone crowd en route.
I watched transfixed.
I think I said aloud, “Boy, he’s really pissed off.” But silently I thought, there, but for the grace of God, go I.
No, I never disrobed at work nor stormed off work premises mid-day. I never made headlines. Never took my frustrations out on social media, or any public platform for that matter.
In fact, nothing about my life and career bears an outward resemblance to Brown’s.
But I think I could identify with what I was witnessing, as he melodramatically left the game.
And it saddened me.
Before I go into the what and why, know that I am not a mental health expert. I will not attempt to diagnose what triggered Brown’s tantrum, nor his apparent history of soured relationships with other coaches and teams.
But I kinda, sorta get it. Wish I didn’t, but I kinda, sorta do.
The Curse of a Troubled High Achiever
Antonio Brown is not just your average, run-of-the-mill wide receiver.
According to his Wikipedia page, Brown set a few notable records. In just his second year in the pros, then for the Pittsburgh Steelers, he became “the first player in NFL history to have more than 1,000 yards receiving and returning in one season.” The following year, “he became the only receiver in NFL history to record five receptions and at least 50 yards in every single game of an NFL season.”
The first. The only. Pretty impressive.
As a Steeler, he continued to set records during the next four out of five seasons, which you’d think would have made him invaluable to the team.
But invaluable doesn’t mean irreplaceable. Even the missteps of superstars have consequences.
His relationship with the Steelers’ respected veteran quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger, as well as with his coach and other teammates, tanked over what is said to be a series of locker room antics. When coupled with some personal issues off the field, Brown’s desirability as a Steeler evaporated.
He went on to become an Oakland Raider, then a New England Patriot. But a string of incidents including charges of sexual assault, various other felonies, and repeated unexcused absences from team functions made both teams eventually cut him from their rosters.
After spending the rest of 2019 and the beginning of 2020 as a free agent, he signed with the Buccaneers, where he was part of the team that won Super Bowl LV.
But his disruptive issues, and vocal refusal to take accountability for them, continued there as well.
In 2021 he received a three-week suspension for misrepresenting his COVID vaccination status, and although I agree with him that other NFL players have not received the same punishment for similar or even worse offenses (can you say Aaron Rodgers?) the fact that he betrayed his coach and his team did not bode well for his future with the Bucs franchise, either.
But more than likely, Brown’s great meltdown in that game against the Jets — regardless of its origin — most likely sealed his fate as a Buc in particular and in the NFL in general.
Why This Story Makes Me Sad
As I stated above, I’m neither qualified nor authorized to speak to Antonio Brown’s state of mind, historically or currently.
I can only offer that I identify with the behaviour.
You see, I’ve had my own history of emotional meltdowns.
Looking back, I can see clearly how they resulted in a series of broken relationships, damaged friendships, and career fallout, but while in the midst of any one of them I felt one hundred percent justified.
I railed against bosses at what I perceived as a lack of fairness at work. Lost it with guys I dated. Took my frustrations out on friends who had nothing to do with their causes.
Left a lot of emotional collateral damage in my wake.
It was only in retrospect that I knew something was terribly, terribly amiss — no matter how legitimate I believed the reasons for my outbursts were.
Because the reasons for the meltdowns don’t matter.
No matter how devoted a friend, how loving a companion, or how extraordinary an employee you are, people witnessing these emotional breakdowns either want to distance themselves from you or wring their hands helplessly as they look on. These people are neither trained nor inclined to handle them.
And no matter how righteous your anger, it’s the behavior that will be remembered, not the validity.
Yes, there’s the treatment for meltdowns, at least there was for me. There’s no cure, per se, but at least I have come to understand and, for the most part, come to terms with and minimize them. I can honestly say that I have a lot to be happy about and grateful for these days and that I don’t spend a ton of time looking into my rearview mirror.
I know, Antonio. This was not what you wanted to be famous for. And I’m sure it blows your mind that all of your contributions to your sport, all of the broken records, the passion, and the hard work you’ve put in, will be forever overshadowed by your spectacular implosion.
So yes, this story makes me sad, primarily because I don’t have a happy ending to give to it. At least not one that will enable this football player to find absolution from the league for which he played. The most I can hope for is that someday he will at least understand and come to terms with his role in the demise of his career.
And create a new legacy for himself, as I try to do by trying to nurture my current relationships, performing acts of kindness, looking to constantly keep learning, and sharing what I’ve learned with my writing.
I do wish you all the best, Antonio. And to anyone reading this for whom it strikes a chord. Because yes, I can honestly say, there is life after meltdowns…that meltdowns, like everything else, are merely lessons to be learned and stepping stones to self-awareness.
SAMHSA’s (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Association) National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders. 1–800–662-HELP (4357) Also visit the online treatment locator.
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