depression

An Open Letter To Naomi Osaka About Depression From Tennis Champion And Depression Sufferer Cliff Richey

June 2, 2021 by Admin

Following Naomi Osaka’s withdrawal from Roland Garros citing depression and mental health, former U.S. and French Open semifinalist Cliff Richey drafted the following public letter to Osaka to help guide her (and others) through depression, the disease that has afflicted Richey most of his life. Richey documents his life and success over depression in his book “Acing Depression: A Tennis Champion’s Toughest Match” (for sale and download here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0942257669/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_468K44N1T5XF4PKNWJ4Z) He followed up with another book called “Your Playbook For Beating Depression” written with Professor Mary Garrison (for sale and download here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1937559688/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_PXATFXMMD5CCGGCJVPP2) to provide sufferers with an immediate reading guide to help them through the dark times of the disease. Cliff is proud of his tennis career, but is perhaps even more proud of his efforts as a mental health advocate, where he has no doubt saved many lives.

Dear Naomi,

You don’t know me, but I am part of our “club.” Having played the world tennis tour for 15 years, in the 1960s and 1970s, I won the first ever world point championship (the precursor to the ATP rankings) in 1970 and I was a member of two championship winning U.S. Davis Cup teams. I also won 45 tour titles. I had a long career and even played 10 more years on the senior tour. I have also had a long career with clinical depression. At one point in my life I was almost non-functional for three years. I had trophies on the wall, enough money to do what I wanted and a beautiful family. But I was sick and miserable. My disease was actually diagnosed after many years by my dermatologist. I had a year of counseling, and I read everything I could find to educate myself on what my opponent does and how it attacks. Clinical depression is a real medical disease. A lot of people don’t know it is, but it is. Once I got counseling, educated myself on the disease, I also was prescribed an antidepressant medication. I’m on 200 mg of Zoloft and have been for 24 years. For me it’s at least 50 percent of my recovery. Knowing about the disease and changing my life a bit is the other 50 percent. There is hope! There is recovery. Let me say that again because depression sufferers need to hear it over and over again. There is hope. There is recovery.

So many successful people have clinical depression. It’s actually sometimes referred to as the “successful man’s disease.” People who are creative, and go getters and smart can also have clinical depression. It’s one more hurdle we have to jump over. You are a great champion, Naomi. Your record proves it. Right at this moment I would ask that you do one thing—don’t give up! Don’t make any fast moves.

So let me put it into a few bullet points.

Antidepressant medication is not a last resort or a “cover the problem” pill. It works like insulin for a diabetic. It can correct a chemical imbalance in the brain. And you don’t build up tolerance with it. The worst thing you can do is use alcohol, cocaine or any of the street drugs. All of those are depressants that makes depression worse.

Counseling is a strategy session for how you can change a few things in your life and have a smoother ride. Reading and self education can be equally as important. As I said, you’ve got to know your opponent.

My recovery has been a good one. I have been productive and lived life in a healthier way. Clinical depression has been one of my life’s biggest hills to climb. Clinical depression is not just a down mood. Just like a diabetic coma is not just being light headed! It’s time our society gets to know what it is and how to treat it. I am a mental health advocate and published two books to help those who suffer. You can do it Naomi! I know you can. Go get’em!

Sincerely,

Cliff Richey

Six Ways Playing Tennis Is Good for Your Health

September 3, 2020 by Admin

Do you want to live longer? Then pick up a tennis racquet and hit the courts!

According to a study in the British Journal of Sports Medicine, racquet sports can reduce the risk of death from any cause by 47%. Of course, any sort of regular activity from playing sports will help keep you fit and healthy. That being said, playing tennis has the highest reduced risk of all-cause mortality compared to swimming (28%), aerobics (27%), and cycling (15%).

Why is tennis so good at staving off the reaper’s scythe? Here are the top 6 health benefits of tennis.

1. You Get a Full-Body Workout From Playing Tennis

Tennis is a whole-body sport that will work your muscles through different ranges of motion.

For example, let’s look at one of the basic moves in tennis, the serve. You toss the ball up in the air, load your legs like a spring for the jump, then hit the ball with a powerful smash. Then when the rally starts, you’re going side to side or sprinting full-throttle when the opponent makes a drop shot.

Every muscle group is going to get some love. Tennis is closer to a cross-training exercise than any other sport.

2. Develops Muscles

Tennis is a sport that requires strength but also builds strength. You move in short, quick bursts which will improve anaerobic fitness. This allows the muscles to use oxygen more efficiently when you need that explosion of power.

3. Improves Bone Density

It’s not just muscles that benefit from tennis, but also bones. The workout you get increases bone mass and slows down the rate of bone loss.

4. Burns Calories and Strengthens Your Heart

A tennis match involves high-intensity activity with little rest in between. If that reminds you of a popular workout program today, you’re correct. It’s a lot like High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT) which is very effective at burning fat and boosting metabolism.

Tennis is also a top-tier aerobic exercise that works wonders at improving heart health. It can lower your blood pressure, cholesterol levels, and reduce the risk of heart disease.

5. Mental Health Benefits

Tennis is less about overpowering your opponent but outthinking your opponent. If tennis is all about powerful serves, then Andre Agassi wouldn’t have won a Career Super Slam.

Tennis helps you to develop your tactical thinking. It’s similar to chess in that you have to plan several moves to outpace your opponent. You want to be able to execute your strategy but also counter what your adversary might have in store for you.

You also have to think on the fly, much like off-piste skiing. If you’re a split-second late with your decision making, you’re gonna give up a point and maybe the match.

6. Emotional Health Benefits

With tennis, you’ll learn discipline, stress management, and sportsmanship. You need to stay calm under pressure and not get tilted with every bad call from the umpire or the linesman.

A study also shows that playing tennis with friends helps fight depression and anxiety symptoms in healthy young people.

What Are You Waiting For?

Pick up a racquet and start playing tennis! It’s the best sport for improving your health and staying healthy longer. No wonder tennis is dubbed as the sport for a lifetime!

For more articles about the world of tennis, please feel free to browse through the rest of our site.

Former Davis Cup Champion Cliff Richey Saving Lives With His Books

May 10, 2017 by Admin

By Randy Walker

@TennisPublisher

It was the summer of 2008 when I received the voice mail.

The voice on the other end of the phone was serious with a Texas drawl. The man identified himself as Cliff Richey, who said he was calling on the recommendation of InsideTennis publisher Bill Simons. He wanted to talk to me about my book publishing company New Chapter Press publishing his memoir.

I knew of Cliff as one of the great American tennis players in the late 1960s, early 1970s. I had ballboyed for him during the annual senior tennis tournament in my hometown of New Canaan, Connecticut and I even had his autograph.

When we spoke, Cliff told me of his life and recovery from crippling depression and that he wanted to become more of a mental health advocate to help people who are also stricken with this terrible disease and condition.

He felt that the story told in his book would do a lot of good to help people better understand the disease and help lessen the stigma of people admitting they have depression.

“I want it say on the grave stone that he was a great tennis player and he was advocate for mental health,” Cliff said that day.

We eventually published his book that we titled “Acing Depression: A Tennis Champion’s Toughest Match” in 2010 and now, Cliff, a two-time member of the winning U.S. Davis Cup team, is now a two-time author with the publishing of his second book “Your Playbook For Beating Depression” written with Mary Garrison.

Cliff and I have discussed the concept of this book for years as it is a book that can be of immediate help to a person in distress with depression. “Acing Depression” is more of a memoir, with ‘depression’ being a supporting character, per se, in the story of Cliff’s life. While “Acing Depression” gives people a better understanding of what depression is and how one can have it treated through the life of Cliff, people who urgently need help should read “Playbook For Beating Depression.” If you feel that you or someone you know may be on the verge of doing something drastic as a result of depression, you need to get them this book as soon as possible.

According to statistics, one in 20 people in the United States suffer from depression. Most of us know at least 20 people, so, chances are, one of them has depression. They probably suffer from depression and you don’t even know it.

I made a new friend within the last year in Vero Beach, Florida, where I spend a good deal of time outside of New York and where I run the USTA Pro Circuit event in town. While meeting this new friend for beers and burgers last December, he told me of some setbacks in his personal life, which I tried to help him through and started to present the positive side of what can be done. Three weeks later, he committed suicide. People said that he suffered from depression, which I didn’t know nor did he indicate during our brief friendship. If I had only known that he had this disease, I would have put him in touch with Cliff and given him an advance copy of “Your Playbook For Beating Depression.” It might have saved his life.

Two other “social media” friends of mine posted that they also suffer from the disease. I sent them both copies of “Acing Depression” to help them understand their condition and will also send them the new book.

Shortly after Cliff received his fresh-off-the-press copies of “Your Playbook For Beating Depression” he texted me and told me that he learned of a person in his circle who suffered from depression. Cliff found him crying his eyes out, just like he described himself in “Acing Depression.” Cliff gave him a copy of the book and hopefully this will help him with guidance on how to treat his condition.

Since meeting Cliff, I have a better understanding of depression. It’s a disease, like cancer or heart disease. You just can’t shake the feeling of gloom. It’s not something you can just “suck up” or “get happy” and get perspective. It’s a terrible malaise and feeling of distress and fear that you can’t get over. Cliff is one first people of celebrity to stand up and show that there should not be a stigma of admitting you have depression. You can be a macho man and still admit you have this condition and that you can publicly seek help. It is interesting to see other celebrities come out and say they have depression, most notably Bruce Springsteen. You can’t get much more macho than the hard-nosed Texan Cliff Richey and “The Boss” Bruce Springsteen.

Through the grapevine and through gossip, it has gotten back to me that I am taking advantage of people’s depression to make money and hawk a book, which is completely laughable. If people only realized how much I bust my butt on all these books I publish via New Chapter Press just to break even. Eighty-five percent of books published lose money. It’s only through my creativity that I don’t lose my shirt on these books. Cliff’s books, especially “Your Playbook For Beating Depression,” are different. This is about saving lives.

I’m very proud of Cliff and his courage and his efforts to draw more attention to depression. He has already saved lives and I know he will continue to save more.

When Women Were Banned From A White House Davis Cup Ceremony

December 17, 2012 by Admin

Could a woman by banned from a White House sports ceremony?

That’s exactly what happened when the winning U.S. Davis Cup team from 1969 visited the White House to meet with President Richard Nixon. Former U.S. No. 1 tennis player Cliff Richey discusses the ceremony and how his now ex-wife Mickie was not allowed to attend the meet-and-greet with the President on the White House Lawn from his book ACING DEPRESSION: A TENNIS CHAMPION’S TOUGHEST MATCH ($19.95, New Chapter Press, www.CliffRicheyBook.com). Richey was a two-time U.S. Open semifinalist (1970, 1972) and a semifinalist at the French Open in 1970. He finished the 1970 season as the No. 1 ranked American and won the first-ever year-end points title that season. The exclusive book excerpt is found below.

When I met President Nixon at the White House, I was too young to take it all in like I would have later in life. After we won the Davis Cup over Romania in 1969, Donald Dell (the captain that year) informed us at the last minute that we were going to be received at the White House the next day. He had a reputation for doing things at the last minute. We were getting ready to board the plane to go to D.C. Donald almost missed the flight. We had to beg them to keep the airplane doors open so that he could get on. We were saying to the stewardess: “Please, we’re going to see the President!”

When we arrived, first we went to the old executive office building next door to the White House. President Nixon’s executive administrator for sports, Bud Wilkinson, the famous football coach from Oklahoma, received us there. He or an assistant told us what was going to happen next. First we were given a tour of the White House. We received nice little presidential medallions and golf balls with Nixon’s name printed on them. Then we went out on the lawn for a photo op. We were told exactly what to do. We all lined up. I was standing beside my teammate, Clark Graebner. He leaned over and said, “There’s Henry Kissinger.” He was standing on the back porch of the Rose Garden. It’s ironic, given my later interest in politics, but back then I didn’t know Henry Kissinger from a bar of soap!

The most unusual thing I remember was that Nixon would not allow any women at the ceremony. Women were not welcome.

Today that would be considered a colossal gaffe. Poor Mickie didn’t even see the inside of the White House. She had to stay over there at that old executive office building the whole time.

Once we were lined up in order, you could hear somebody say, “Here he comes.” The next thing we knew, Nixon came up. He had a prompter with him. He greeted each person individually. He would say a little something to each one. When he was about three guys down from me, it dawned on me, “What the heck do I say?” I panicked, man. What in the hell do you say to the President of the United States? What could possibly make any sense? He shook my hand. I said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” How stupid is that?! My insipid comment became almost funny in light of the Watergate scandal four years later.

If you could see me today, you’d never guess I had once graced the White House lawn. I wear blue jeans, a golf shirt, and tennis shoes. My normal accessories are a cowboy belt with silver buckle, engraved with my initials, and a ball cap which often gets stained with sunscreen. I usually need a haircut. The only luxury I allow myself is an 18-karat gold Rolex watch. I bought a 14-karat gold one in 1974, but two years later I bought the 18-karat one because, as they say, “the stars wear 18-karat.”

Co-written with his oldest daughter Hilaire Richey Kallendorf, ACING DEPRESSION ($19.95, New Chapter Press, www.NewChapterMedia.com), is a first-hand account of the life and tennis career of Richey, providing readers with his real-life drama – on and off the tennis court. Richey’s depression is a constant theme, from his genetics and family history, to the tensions of his professional tennis career and family life, to his eventual diagnosis and steps to recover from his condition.

Jimmy Connors, the five-time U.S. Open champion and a friend of Richey’s penned the Foreword for ACING DEPRESSION.

Writes Connors, “What made Cliff Richey what he was on the tennis court has certainly carried over into this book. His story has taken a subject, depression—which has affected him personally—and put it out there for everyone to see. Depression has been a subject that no one really talks about. Few people even admit to having such a condition. But Cliff is not afraid to be bold and reveal what he has gone through and what it takes to get a handle on this disease…Just as Cliff played tennis, he is studying how depression works; what its weaknesses are; and what strategies you can use against it. His hope is that people who read his story can learn—learn about the disease and learn that people who suffer can have a better quality of life. Things can get better. There is hope.”

Richey was known as the original “Bad Boy” of tennis, before there was John McEnroe and Ilie Nastase. His 26-year career was highlighted by a 1970 season where he led the United States to the Davis Cup title, finished as the first-ever Grand Prix world points champion and won one of the most exciting matches in American tennis history that clinched the year-end No. 1 American ranking. He won both of his singles matches in the 5-0 U.S. victory over West Germany in the 1970 Davis Cup final, while he beat out rivals Rod Laver, Ken Rosewall, Arthur Ashe and Stan Smith to win the first-ever Grand Prix world points title the precursor to the modern day ATP rankings. At the 1970 Pacific Coast Championships at the Berkeley Tennis Club in Berkeley, Calif., he earned the No. 1 U.S. ranking when he beat Smith in a fifth-set tie-breaker, where both players had simultaneous match point in a sudden-death nine-point tie-breaker at 4-4. He also reached the semifinals of both the 1970 French and U.S. Opens, losing a famous match to Zeljko Franulovic of Yugoslavia in the French semifinals, despite holding match points and leading by two-sets-to-one and 5-1 in the fourth set. He and his sister Nancy, a former French and Australian singles champion, are regarded by some as the best brother-sister duo in tennis history.

During his career, Richey was know for tantrums and boorish behavior simply, however, it served as a mask for his internal struggle with clinical depression. During his darkest days, Richey would place black trash bags over the windows of his house, stay in bed all day and cry. With the same determination that earned him the nick-name “The Bull,” Richey fought against his depression that was not diagnosed until just before his 50th birthday during a routine visit to the skin doctor. Since his happenstance diagnosis, Richey has steadily been taking anti-depressant drugs that have greatly improved his quality of life and moved him to become an advocate for mental health, speaking at numerous events and gatherings across the country.

“I have been given so many second chances in my life,” Richey says in the book. “The beautiful thing is that in recovery, almost everything in your life becomes a second chance. Hope is the foundation of our great country of America. Hope is such a driver of the normal human condition. The sum total of my awful disease was “loss of hope.” That’s the truly awesome thing about recovery: once you come back, your whole life after that feels like a second chance.”

Through 10 years of recovery, with the aid of antidepressant medication, he began to feel well for the first time in his life. The fight is not over, he says, but he encourages those suffering from depression to “never give up.” “Acing Depression: A Tennis Champion’s Toughest Match” gives a personal face to an epidemic disease that afflicts one of 20 Americans. Penned with passion and candor, this memoir is a deeply human story of nightmare and redemption.

The book has also received acclaim and endorsements in the mental health community.

Said Jackie Shannon, the Past President of the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), “Real men do get depression—even champion athletes. Cliff’s story is an inspiration to all those who are battling mental illnesses and a wake-up call to the public.” Said Lynn Lasky Clark, President and CEO of Mental Health America of Texas, “This straight forward, honest and intensely personal account of Cliff Richey’s experiences with tennis and depression is truly inspirational. Cliff Richey approaches his recovery from depression with great passion and determination. He provides hope and understanding through this powerful memoir.” Said Lynn Rutland, the Executive Director of MHMR (Mental Health, Mental Retardation), “The Richey’s inspired a whole generation of kids to believe in themselves and strive for excellence. Cliff’s story gives people hope when life has dealt them darkness. The battle for the mind is one that Cliff will never lose through lack of effort as he offers insight into his own struggles and victories. His story will continue to make a difference for those suffering with depression.”

Playing Arthur Ashe at the US Open vs. Playing in Arthur Ashe Stadium at the US Open

September 1, 2012 by Admin

By Cliff Richey

Many times over the last few years I have heard many pro tennis players say, “It doesn’t get any better than playing a big match at the US Open in Arthur Ashe Stadium.”

That is, unless, of course, you actually played Arthur Ashe at the US Open!

I was one of the fortunate few to have had that privilege as I did 40 years ago in the semifinals of the 1972 US Open. It was a match I truly thought I could win. I was high on confidence having beaten my idol, Rod Laver, in the fourth round. I played well but Arthur beat me 6-1, 6-4, 7-6. I had set point in the tie-breaker but Arthur hit a good forehand volley to win it. NFL Films did a great job that year documenting the US Open and some highlights of our match can be seen on YouTube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_eYQK4jhh0

The US Open final the next day against Ilie Nastase was one match I know Arthur thought he would win. However, Ilie pulled out a lot of his “Nasty”ness and with all his great talent scored the upset to win. I actually stayed over and watched that match and that day Nastase’s magic got to Art’s power.

“Art,” as we called him, was my friend, teammate, roommate and fellow competitor for 15 years. We also teamed up as doubles partners occasionally. Heck, we are the doubles champions at the 1965 Tasmanian Championships! I have many fond memories of my time with Art spent on tour.

I played Arthur for the first time at Wimbledon in 1964 in the second round. I won the first two sets 6-4, 6-4, but then he beat me in five sets! In 1965, we roomed together on the six-tournament Australian tour. I was 18 and Art was 22. None of the other guys as part of our U.S. Tennis Association-sponsored trip wanted to room with me so, being the nice guy Art was, he agreed to be my roommate. After a few days, the mild-mannered Ashe let me know that I was using up all the hotel room towels! Of course, back then I really wasn’t house broken, but Art was a gentleman about it as he was with just about everything.

Art had almost a perfect Aussie tour that year. He won all but one of the events – finishing off with the Australian Championships. But Art was pretty superstitious. Before one of the finals he played, he left all of his rackets at the hotel. He just forgot to bring them. He borrowed fellow American Marty Riessen’s rackets and won the final! So for all the other finals he played, he borrowed Marty’s rackets! He wasn’t going to change a winning hand!

Of all the matches I played against Art, my two biggest wins came in 1970. I beat him on fast carpet in the final of the tournament in Macon, Georgia. I also beat him on clay in the final in Washington, DC. Those wins helped a bunch in my achieving the No. 1 U.S. ranking that year.

Winning the Davis Cup in 1970 with Art was very special. We were the singles players and Stan Smith and Bob Lutz were our doubles team. We beat West Germany 5-0. It was a huge thrill. I tell people all the time—‘Yep Arthur and I won the Davis Cup for the United States together.’ That is pretty cool!

Arthur was an amazing player. When you win three of the four majors, you are truly great. His 1975 Wimbledon win at age 32 was the capper of a very long career. He had a brutal serve. He tossed the ball in the same spot and could hit it three different ways. He had a great backhand. Just a power game. His forehand and forehand volley were a bit wonky but good enough.

Art was a class person. Coming up in his era, he faced the racial bigotry. I don’t think anyone could have handled it better than he did. So all you fans enjoy the tennis at Arthur Ashe Stadium this year and remember that Arthur Ashe was a true champion and a great American!

Cliff Richey is a two-time US Open semifinalist (1970, 1972), a French Open semifinalist (1970) and a member of two winning U.S. Davis Cup teams (1969, 1970). The No. 1 ranked players in the U.S. and the world Grand Prix points champion in 1970, Richey is the author of the book “Acing Depression: A Tennis Champion’s Toughest Match” – an harrowing and inspiring book of his recovery from depression, available here on amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Acing-Depression-Tennis-Champions-Toughest/dp/0942257669/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1346508017&sr=8-1&keywords=Cliff+Richey+Acing+depression Richey will sign copies of his “Acing Depression” book Monday, Sept. 3 at 2 pm at the US Open bookstore.

Depression back in spotlight: “It ain’t all autographs and sunglasses”

May 22, 2012 by WTM

Depression is a topic that is in the news again with the recent suicides of Mary Kennedy, the wife for Robert Kennedy, Jr., and connected with NFL superstar Junior Seau. Cliff Richey, the former U.S. No. 1, Roland Garros and US Open semifinalist and star of the 1970 championship U.S. Davis Cup team, is the tennis world’s leading mental health advocate and the author of the book “Acing Depression: A Tennis Champion’s Toughest Match” which chronicles his triumph and continued battle with depression. In this exclusive book excerpt from the chapter called “It Ain’t All Autographs and Sunglasses,”Richey discusses depression in celebrities and sports stars and dealing with your life after the glory days are over. “Acing Depression” ($19.95, New Chapter Press, www.NewChapterMedia.com) is available wherever books are sold, Amazon.com and electronically and in hard copy here at this link to BarnesandNoble.com: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/acing-depression-cliff-richey/1021637786?ean=9780942257663

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Clinical depression does not match the celebrity image. It’s so incongruous. And yet, the intersection of celebrity with depression is another argument in favor of its being recognized as a bona fide disease. It doesn’t just happen to the down-and-out. It can happen to anybody! Even to people who are hugely successful.

In fact, celebrities in general may be more prone to depression. There might be a correlation between driven, workaholic perfectionists and depressives. They are extreme people anyway. Depressed people who are highly accomplished may not feel or experience their successes in the same way as others. They never allow themselves to enjoy their victories. Not many people go into a profession with our same degree of vim and vigor. It’s no secret that within the celebrity world, we tend to call everyone else “civilians.”

When Pete Sampras retired after winning more Grand Slam singles tournaments than any other man, he was quoted as saying, “Thank God I’m not on this merry-go-round any more.” There are a lot of guys who were great tennis players but had some of the worst personal lives you could imagine. Pancho Gonzalez was one of the all-time tennis greats, but he was often a miserable son-of-a bitch. He was married four different times. I remember once when John McEnroe quit a match. The umpire announced, “Mr. McEnroe has been forced to retire.” Then he turned off the mike and looked at McEnroe, who was sitting on his chair on the side of the court with his head down under his towel. The umpire asked, “Mr. McEnroe, may I ask what is the nature of your injury?” He replied, “Brain damage!” Of course he wasn’t serious, but that could be a metaphor for what the game did to all of us out there, sooner or later. It’s like a meat grinder. It just chews you up and spits you out.

If there is a pattern here, then why hasn’t it been talked about? Why isn’t this thing better recognized? One reason is that the “symptoms” or stresses of celebrity life probably mask the symptoms of depression. Celebrities already lead an abnormal life. Life on the tour itself was enough to create a monster, what with all the parties and free booze.

Another celebrity pitfall is to start believing your press clippings. To start thinking you’re invincible. I was good at tennis almost immediately. I was bringing home trophies already at age 12. In the juniors, I hardly knew what losses were. On top of that, you have people telling you that you’re special. Sporting goods companies are paying you to use their equipment. You’re making commercials. It’s all going your way. That’s one of the traps. You don’t want anything to come into your life that’s negative. When it does, it hits you doubly hard.

You’re used to being exempt. You don’t know how to cope with loss. When you put it all together, celebrity sports was the perfect little petri dish to grow the disease of clinical depression. I suspect a couple of tennis players I know are probably also prone to depression, but I’ve never talked to them about it. There was one other player of my generation who I think suffered from the same thing I have. I did a tennis outing with him after I went on an antidepressant in the late 1990s. We were talking about a mental health benefit golf tournament I had organized. Judging from his interest in Zoloft and my mental health activism, I felt like he had probably been on antidepressants himself, but he was afraid to come out with it. He is still making a living in the tennis world.

I don’t blame him. I know how it is. I don’t like the way it is, but I understand it. I don’t blame the poor guy. He still has to inhabit that world. I don’t. That’s one of the things that has allowed me to come forward about my illness: it doesn’t endanger my livelihood to do so. And it can potentially help lots of people. As a reporter for my local newspaper wrote, the decision to go public about my depression has constituted my biggest “ace.”

Maybe there should be a sub-genre of depression or a specialized diagnosis concerning a form of the illness that occurs only in celebrity athletes. That idea is not as off-the-wall as it may seem. They say there might be 18 or more different classifications within clinical depression. Some day we will know a hell of a lot more about it than we know now. It has been proven that mind-altering drugs such as heroin or marijuana can alter your brain chemistry. I wouldn’t be surprised if professional sports careers, with the high levels of cortisol and adrenaline involved, might provoke similar changes in your brain.

Some day depression may come to be recognized as part and parcel of the celebrity lifestyle. That lifestyle already fosters instability. You’re beholden to the public. You’re only as good as your last performance. Your whole life is lived in black and white. Guess what, guys? Celebrities are people too. We are not automatons. We still feel the pressure.

Celebrities are not robots, but sometimes we have to act as if we were. I remember back in 1969 in Las Vegas, we were in one of those old hotel casinos. We went to see a performance by comedian Alan King, who was a huge tennis fan. I said to him, “If I’ve had an argument with my wife, at least I feel like I can take it out on the tennis court. How do you go out there, if you’ve had a bad day, and still manage to be funny?” He said, “When you’re a professional, you have this little button that you push. You just go out there and do it. The show must go on.”

It takes a certain variety of person for me to really be friends with. My friends tend to be entertainers or athletes who have also led a lopsided life. Those guys who have faced that uncertainty every day of competition, that pressure of giving live performances on stage. We’ve been in that bunker together—in the trenches. I kid about being one of these guys who will die on the tour. We can’t find the exit ramp. You either have to be a little bit sick already to live on the tour—or else, sooner or later, it will make you that way!

I’m as particular now about my environment as I am about my friends. I really don’t like country club settings. I grew up in them as sort of an employee. I’ve met very few country clubbers who really knew what competition is all about. I know they’re the normal ones. I realize I am the odd one out. But I don’t even like resorts. That’s where I work. I don’t like the clientele that hang out there. I can’t relate to most of them. They aren’t my friends. It’s kind of an ass-backwards existence. But you get spoiled when you’re used to having all your trips paid for. I never go to sports events or resorts to be a spectator. I go to participate. I have to go by contract, whereas most people look forward to going there as the big event of their year. I’m more of a muni guy. I honestly prefer municipal golf courses.

I don’t like the sterile environment of resorts and country clubs. I’ve led a very exciting life. What an education! But at the same time, it’s difficult for me to enjoy what other people are dying to do. It’s like, if I were to just go on vacation, where would I go? What would I do? I guess I could do a little touring. See the Sistine Chapel and what not. But eating out, sightseeing, a football game, a concert— I don’t enjoy that stuff. I probably should want to do some of those things a little more. I know that I’m too set in my ways. But the exciting life I’ve led makes other stuff, frankly, start to seem a little dull.

The one thing I do value is success. I’m hung up on success the way a lot of people are hung up on being a member of a country club and having a lot of money. Success is my status symbol. Instead of being a jetsetter, I drive 25,000 miles a year. I enjoy it now because I never did that before. Most people work hard so they can afford to fly, not drive. I did exactly the reverse. I do enjoy going out to restaurants with friends or family some now. But after eating out every night on the tour for 30 years, it’s just not that big of a thrill. My substitute for eating out is going to a WalMart Supercenter to buy cold cuts, cole slaw and a loaf of bread. I take that and sack out in front of the TV at a hotel.

With the depression I’ve had, some people would go to a fancy spa to recover. I go to a municipal golf course. Either one can be a tool for seclusion.

I’ve thought about volunteering to clean urinals just to totally remove ego and see what that feels like. I’ve had a fleeting fantasy of showing up at McDonald’s and applying for a job. Perhaps volunteering with United Way for a year.

Maybe some day I’ll do one of those things. But even if I don’t, depression has been a humbling experience. I’ll never again be in danger of getting too impressed with myself. As the confluence of depression with celebrity demonstrates: it ain’t all autographs and sunglasses.