The Medicine Game: More Than a Game
/The Medicine Game: More Than a Game
Lacrosse, Mental Agility, and Taking Care of Your Crew
During Suicide Prevention Awareness Month, I had the privilege of sitting down with my friend Jeremy Redmon, author of Tell the Kids I Love Them, for a conversation about something that has been an important part of both of our lives: lacrosse, mental wellness, connection, and healing. Many of our friends and associates gathered to hear our thoughts on the Medicine Game as well as our experiences with suicide. Most of this post centers around Lacrosse and Sports but I believe when you read this it can help anyone with their daily life.
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A special thank you to my good friend Don Stoppenbach, who moderated our discussion and helped guide us through some meaningful, and at times difficult, conversations.
We called the evening The Medicine Game: Lacrosse, History & Healing.
The more I thought about our conversation afterward, the more I realized that the name captured exactly what we were trying to accomplish.
Lacrosse has always been about much more than a stick, a ball, a scoreboard, or winning and losing.
For generations, Indigenous peoples have regarded lacrosse as a game connected to community, spirituality, strength, and healing. That history gives us an opportunity to ask an important question today:
If lacrosse is the Medicine Game, where is the medicine?
I believe much of it can be found in the people.
The Medicine Is in the Community
Don began our conversation with an important question:
What does the phrase “Medicine Game” mean to each of us, and how can playing, coaching, officiating, or simply belonging to the lacrosse community contribute to healing?
I've spent most of my life around this game, as a player, coach, administrator, educator, and parent and now a mental health advocate.
I've experienced championships and heartbreaking losses. I've watched young men and women become adults. I've watched friendships develop that lasted decades.
And after losing my son Gordon, I've experienced the lacrosse community in an entirely different way. There is not a day that goes by that I receive a call, text email or a social post asking how our family is doing.
I've experienced people showing up.
Calling.
Listening.
Remembering.
Putting an arm around someone when there were simply no words that could make things better.
Sometimes that is the medicine.
PURPOSE — Why Do I Get Up in the Morning?
One of the five pillars of Mental Agility is Purpose. Along with Faith, Structure, Social Engagement and Compassion.
We asked:
How has lacrosse given us purpose during different stages of our lives? And what happens when an athlete loses that purpose because of injury, graduation, being cut, or simply leaving the game?
Athletics can provide tremendous purpose.
There's another practice tomorrow.
Another game this week.
Teammates are counting on you.
Someone needs you to show up.
But eventually every athlete plays his last game.
That transition can be difficult because sometimes we confuse what we do with who we are.
You aren't only a lacrosse player.
You aren't only a coach.
You aren't only an official.
You aren’t just a spouse
You aren’t just a parent.
You aren’t just a brother or sister
The challenge is taking everything the game taught you, discipline, teamwork, resilience, leadership, sacrifice, and discovering where those qualities can serve others next.
Your playing career may end.
Your purpose doesn't have to.
STRUCTURE — What Happens When the Schedule Disappears?
Another Mental Agility pillar is Structure.
Athletes, coaches, and officials live structured lives.
Practice at 4:00.
Lift at 6:00.
Film at 7:00.
Game Saturday.
Bus leaves at 8:00.
That structure can provide stability and rhythm, especially during difficult periods.
But what happens when the season ends?
Or when you graduate?
Or when injury takes the game away?
We talked about the importance of intentionally replacing lost structure.
Exercise.
Work.
Prayer/Meditation
Sleep.
Meals.
Relationships.
Volunteering.
A reason to get out of bed.
When an important chapter of life ends, we can't always control the loss.
But we can begin building the structure for the next chapter.
TAKE CARE OF YOUR CREW
Then we came to the words that mean so much to our family and Gordon’s Foundation:
Take Care of Your Crew.
Gordon's message sounds simple.
Living it requires intentionality.
What does taking care of your crew actually look like in a locker room, on a sideline, at work, or at home?
It means paying attention.
Maybe your teammate suddenly stops hanging around after practice.
Maybe an official you've known for years seems different.
Maybe your coach isn't himself.
Maybe your friend keeps telling everyone:
“I'm fine.”
But something tells you they aren’t.
Ask again.
“No, really. How are you doing?”
Gordon used to say to us, please ask me three times “How are you doing”. He empathized this because on the third time he would tell you the truth.
Then listen.
Taking care of your crew doesn't mean becoming someone's therapist. It means caring enough to notice and helping someone connect with appropriate support when they need more help than you can provide.
VULNERABILITY IS NOT WEAKNESS
Gordon talked about vulnerability and the importance of connection.
Why can athletes sometimes play through tremendous physical pain but struggle to tell someone they are hurting emotionally?
An athlete can tear something and immediately tell the trainer.
But someone can be hurting emotionally for months without telling anyone.
Why?
Sometimes we have confused silence with toughness.
I believe we need to teach young men and women something different:
Asking for help requires courage.
Vulnerability isn't surrender.
It is being honest enough to say:
“I'm having a hard time.”
And creating that culture begins with mothers, fathers, coaches, teammates, officials, and leaders being willing to have those conversations themselves.
MENTAL AGILITY DOESN'T MEAN LIFE WON'T HURT
Another important part of our conversation centered on what Mental Agility actually means.
It does not mean never experiencing difficult thoughts.
It doesn't mean disappointment disappears.
It doesn't mean anxiety, grief, pressure, or failure never enter our lives.
Mental Agility is about developing tools for how we respond.
Sports teach this constantly.
You turn the ball over.
What's next?
An official makes a call you disagree with.
What's next?
You lose a game.
What's next?
You don't make the team.
What's next?
You cannot always control what happens.
But you can work on controlling your next response.
That lesson reaches far beyond lacrosse or any life experience.
THE PEOPLE WE REMEMBER
What made that person special?
Interestingly, years later, we don't always remember the score of a game.
We remember how people made us feel.
The coach who believed in us.
The teammate who picked us up.
The person who noticed when we were struggling.
The leader who cared about us beyond what we could contribute to the team.
That's something every one of use should remember:
Coach the player. Care for the person.
COMPASSION AND TOUGHNESS
Compassion is another pillar of Mental Agility, yet competitive sports celebrate toughness.
So we asked:
Are compassion and toughness opposites?
I don't believe they are.
Compassion doesn't eliminate accountability.
You can love someone and still tell them the truth.
You can care deeply about a player and still demand more from them.
You can hold someone accountable without humiliating them.
In fact, some of the strongest leaders I've known have also been the most compassionate.
They demand excellence because they care.
Compassion without accountability can become permissiveness. Accountability without compassion can become cruelty. Great leadership requires both.
SOCIAL ENGAGEMENT — PERHAPS THE MOST POWERFUL MEDICINE
Our fourth Mental Agility pillar is Social Engagement.
This may be one of the greatest gifts sports provide.
We live in an era where someone can have hundreds or thousands of digital connections and still feel profoundly alone.
Teams create something different.
Face-to-face interaction.
Shared experiences.
Bus rides.
Locker rooms.
Meals.
Practices.
Laughter.
Failure.
Celebration.
Relationships.
Belonging.
Perhaps that's one of the reasons lacrosse can truly be medicine.
People need people.
SO WHAT IS OUR RESPONSIBILITY?
We finished with perhaps the most important question of the evening:
If we truly believe lacrosse is the Medicine Game, what responsibility do officials, coaches, players, parents, and alumni have to make sure the game leaves people healthier, more connected, more resilient, and more hopeful than when they entered it?
That question should challenge all of us.
Winning matters.
Competition matters.
Excellence matters.
But years after the final whistle, something else will matter more.
What kind of people did the game help us become?
Did we build relationships?
Did we help someone find purpose?
Did we create structure?
Did we bring people together?
Did we show compassion?
Did we notice the person who was struggling?
Did we make it acceptable to ask for help?
Did we leave the game and the people within it, better than we found them?
That is bigger than lacrosse.
That is the Medicine Game.
Five Words
I am grateful to Jeremy Redmon for sharing this conversation with me and for the deeply personal work behind Tell the Kids I Love Them.
And again, a heartfelt thank you to my good friend Don Stoppenbach for moderating our discussion and helping us explore these important questions with thoughtfulness and compassion. Don shared with our group that when his Father was dying from emphysema he went through photo albums and recorded his conversations with his Dad to learn some more about him and listen to his stories. I thought this was very poignant and a great example of making a human connection with friends and family.
Most importantly, I'm grateful that Gordon's message continues to travel.
It isn't complicated.
It doesn't require a degree.
It doesn't require you to be a mental health professional.
It requires us to notice one another.
To listen.
To ask another question.
To show up.
To care.
Five words:
TAKE CARE OF YOUR CREW.
If we can live those words, not simply put them on a shirt, a website, or a banner—then perhaps we can make our teams, our families, our workplaces, and our communities a little more connected.
And perhaps that is where the real medicine has always been.
Please consider donating to the Gordon J. Corsetti Mental Agility Foundation to help us keep Gordon’s legacy alive.
Call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline for help. In an emergency, please call 911.
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Health (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264).
For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357).
