Only Human

Perhaps one of the most repeated tales from Scottish football is attributed to John Lambie when he was told a player was concussed and didn’t know who he was:

“Tell him he’s Pele and send him back on!”

Apocryphal or not, it stands as an accurate introduction to  Scottish football’s attitude to sports psychology for many years.

Fair to say, there has always been an acknowledgement of the role of psychology in football, but for many years it was misunderstood, underdeveloped, in usage and practice, and generally called upon in extremis when relegation threatened, or a coach was mystified by a long run of poor form.

You would find features in the tabloids, filed under the same entry as pictures of strikers dressed as cowboys because they were “six shooters”, detailing how “ a psychiatrist”, “ a psychologist” or even “a hypnotist” had been brought in by a manager desperate to get his team back on track. Frequently, the folk brought in were along the lines of stage magicians, illusionists, or mind reading acts, keen on a little extra publicity for their show at the local theatre.

Supporters conjured up visions of watches on chains being swung before the eyes of the players in the dressing room, and the “memory man” waiting after the game to click his fingers at them to bring them out of their victorious “trance”.

Sometimes results improved, sometimes not, but the one consistency was that there was no way of linking the results to any cod psychology employed in the game preparations. To be fair to the managers, most of them saw it as a placebo, something “different” – anything  to break the losing mentality, rather than any kind of actual sports “science” – though I know of at least one manager who challenged his sacking on the basis that “It was the psychologist guy’s fault!.”

Slowly, however, things changed, and even football began to catch up with the times.

There grew an awareness that the pressure to perform under which footballers operate can take its toll on some individuals, and not always in an obvious manner. As the financial  stakes grew exponentially, so clubs began to look for way to maximise the performance of their best and most costly players. This was founded largely on cost effectiveness rather than concern for the individual.

The understanding grew that a player who was “feeling the pressure” was less likely to perform at his full potential than one who was calm and measured. It was acknowledged that high performance sports stars, much like those in the arts, might be susceptible to the strain of the demands put upon them. This was a quantum shift from the days of  footballers expected to be “hard as nails” and “tough as old boots” and brought a realisation that even the “hardest” player might need help with his mental resilience.

A number of sports were moving in the same direction, with psychological input to golfers to correct their swing or calm the “yips”, athletes encouraged to “visualise” their race, to run it, virtually, before the event, as a means of controlling their actual performance. Sports psychology gradually established a place for itself in all major sports and it became commonplace to read of how the assistance given by a trained psychologist could help a sportsperson prepare for a final or a major games event: “Getting their head together” became the accepted phrase.

One important development was the understanding that a “sports psychologist” could not just be brought in, ad hoc,  for one player or one situation. If players were to trust their advice and assessment, they had to be  familiar figures about the club, and similarly, if they wished to work successfully with the players, they needed to be in a position to know them well, and witness them in all modes and all moods.

This proved a stumbling block to a certain extent, as football is a business that demands immediate and demonstrable results, and sports psychology does not work to that model. Whilst the finance director might see a body on the payroll for no apparent reason, those about the players began to be aware of the reassurance of such a presence – even for those who had not used the service themselves. They could see the benefits to team mates who had, and word of mouth is an invaluable tool in such an area.

I think it is fair to say that sports psychology, as it has become accepted and acknowledged, has widened its scope from merely seeking to influence results to being part of the duty of care most clubs feel they have towards their players and their wellbeing. To say it was an altruistic interest would be a little naive, but it was keeping pace with a generally more enlightened societal view on mental health, as well as advanced academic research on the link between psychology and performance.

Anyone applying for careers as pilots, astronauts or similarly stressful occupations are unfailingly screened as to their mental wellbeing and resilience, and increasingly this is the case with footballers, especially at the highest level.

In my first piece in this series, I mentioned the imortance of “transition” in a footballer’s career in as much as it affects his wellbeing, and, thus, ultimately, his performance. Some transitions are obvious and can be well prepared for over a matter fo time: from youth academy to professional academy, from professional academy to first team squad, for example. However, within that, despite the obvious path of progress, there will still be pivotal moments: first time on the first team bench, first time coming on, first time starting a first team game. Each of these are big moments in a player’s life where preparation and support may be necessary.

We also need to take into account that the player is going through all the other transitions that any 16-21 year old would be facing from adolescence to adulthood, maybe leaving home, starting new relationships, coming to grips with a whole range of new responsibilities.

Though playing football may “come naturally” to him in some ways, reaching first team level – or even just becoming a full time player – will make demands on his mental resilience – demands which some will cope with but which, for others, may be overwhelming, especially if their world is consumed totally by football and lacks the balance of non-footballing pals or hobbies.

It is useful to make  comparisons with less extraordinary moments in our own lives. Imagine something which you are used to doing every day – perhaps paying for goods at a check out. Think of the momentary embarrassment of making an error: you present  the card upside down, or you’ve forgotten your pin number, or you have insufficient funds, or you realise you have chosen the wrong item. You blush and look around, while apologising profusely, wondering if anyone has noticed.

Now, imagine that experience in front of 10 to 40,000 people, all concentrating on you intently, and feeling  they have the license to tell you exactly what they think of your performance. The transaction is something you do day after day, almost without thinking about it, it’s not as if you have suddenly lost the ability to shop, but all these people are howling at you as if you have let them down personally and deliberately. Depending on your personality, the thought of that possibility might certainly be playing on your mind as you approach the checkout, and, if it is,  then the likelihood is that it will affect the manner in which you complete your purchase.

Equally, the transition from full time to part time, or from playing to retirement is as challenging to a footballer as it would be to any worker. Your life changes, your expectations and those that others have of you, change dramatically, and big adjustments are required.

It is well known that those who live a regimented life in their twenties – from soldiers to prisoners – find difficulty in adjusting to the demands of the “outside” world once they leave those situations behind. While footballers in Scotland occupy far smaller a “bubble” than EPL megastars, they still live a life which is focused on the game and preparing for it, almost exclusively – to the extent that their weekly and daily routine is shaped by it, and many will have known nothing else since they were sixteen.

So – in preparing players for the requirements of full time football, and, equally, preparing them for the demands of “civilian’ life, there is a role for sports psychology at both ends of a footballing career, as well as the safeguarding of mental wellbeing throughout.

Footballers are not robots or cyphers on a playstation game, they are human with the same frailties and needs for support as the rest of us. The stakes may be higher for them, and their lives more public, but, ultimately, sports psychology is about people not results.