Under Pressure: Is Fame Breaking Women Stars?

The Australian Open tennis championships has had to get along without Canadian Bianca Andreescu, the 2020 U.S. Open winner. Andreescu pulled the chute on playing Melbourne, citing the stresses of Covid-19 and family issues. "A lot of days, I did not feel like myself,” she wrote, “especially while I was training and/or playing matches. I felt like I was carrying the world on my shoulders.

"I want to give myself extra time to reset, recover and grow from this [as cliché as that sounds], and continue to inspire by doing charity work, giving back and working on myself, because I know by doing this, I will come back stronger than ever," she wrote. (Apparently she’s strong enough to promote her book “Bibi's Got Game” about tennis, meditation and perseverance, set for publication May 31, 2022.)

If this all sounds vaguely familiar coming from a sports star it should. Andreescu’s malaise sounds a lot like the complaints recently cited by world champions Naomi Osaka (tennis) and gymnast Simone Biles. Like Andreescu both withdrew from major competitions citing the fatigue and media pressure of becoming a global sports celebrity.

And while Andreescu dropped out before play began, both Osaka and Biles took considerable heat for their decisions to quit partway through a competition, denying someone else the chance to compete.

Playing in a fish bowl for millions in prize money and even greater millions in endorsements and sponsorships has imposed real pressure on athletes. The isolation created by wealth and fame is real. (No doubt there are many suffering from similar burnout, but they don’t have the financial security to pull back from competition, something the above trio could do.)

Now with the huge spotlight of the Olympics looming on the horizon there will be even more heat on athletes burdened by representing their nation or family. We will see athletes crumbling under pressure. That pressure seems to have a disproportionate effect on women athletes. While we see the occasional NFLer Antonio Brown crack in then spotlight it is not as common to see male athletes withdraw suddenly from events or games.

In part this is a condition of how women athletes are developed, particularly in individual sports where they come to the spotlight as young as 13 or 14 (gymnasts) or 15 or 16 for tennis players and golfers. Their reliance on support staff and family is paramount.

Many young women athletes see themselves representing the hopes of many when they compete. They often put themselves after a range of family, friends, sponsors and media trolls. Witness Andreescu’s comment that “I felt like I was carrying the world on my shoulders.” This burden is real, and is often why these women often have an existential crisis when they reach the top. Having satisfied everyone around them they find their own experience hollow.

It is perhaps telling that Ash Barty, the No. 1 women seed at the Australian Open, played other sports competitively before adopting tennis as her full-time sport. Serena Williams emerged from a working-class background, not a pampered progress, to become a world champion.

Our observation from covering the most successful solo athletes is the total self absorption of their craft. While this might be considered antisocial in another field, in sports it is an essential quality in almost all the great athletes who wish to reach the top. (A study once declared that of the 41 essential qualities of a champion, 37 of them were antisocial.)

Figure skater Elvis Stojko is a good example of how single-minded champions can be. The Canadian champion often suffered the hostility of judges— who disdained his modern martial-arts themes . He also had the weight of a nation cheering him on to win gold medals.

But Stojko adopted an artist’s self absorption, skating to please himself. How he executed his routines— not judges’ marks or the frustrations of fans— was his goal. He knew when he’d skated well and when he’d screwed up. This bliss helped him rise about the noise of elements that could hinder his skating. He was responsible, good or bad.

The pleasure he brought others was nice but secondary. And he’s far from alone when it comes to this ability to compartmentalize.

So we wish Bianca and all the stressed-out athletes in Beijing the best. May you find your bliss. And may you not answer the phone or read social media for the next month.

Bruce Dowbiggin @dowbboy is the editor of Not The Public Broadcaster (http://www.notthepublicbroadcaster.com). The best-selling author was nominated for the BBN Business Book award of 2020 for Personal Account with Tony Comper. A two-time winner of the Gemini Award as Canada's top television sports broadcaster, he’s also a regular contributor to Sirius XM Canada Talks Ch. 167. His new book with his son Evan Inexact Science: The Six Most Compelling Draft Years In NHL History is now available on http://brucedowbigginbooks.ca/book-personalaccount.aspx