Advertisement - scroll for more content
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement

Stefan Bondy: I got a chance to interview Michael Sweetney about three months ago. He was happy to take my call. Sweetney had been invited back by the Knicks to three games this season and it meant a lot to him after his playing career didn’t pan out. He also talked about his struggles with mental health when he played for the Knicks, and how, in retrospect, he would’ve benefitted from speaking up. “Looking back at it, obviously with my mental health issues, with me struggling with depression and anxiety, what I should have done was get some help, find somebody to talk to. I thought I was a man who could fight it on his own and obviously it burned me,” Sweetney said. “I went from a top-10 pick to being out of the league in four years. So it was one of those things where it sucked but it was one of those things where I wish I talked to somebody and let them know, ‘Look, I need help. I’m not okay.’” Times changed and so did the stigma of mental health problems. Sweetney noticed how the Knicks and the media supported Mitchell Robinson during the playoffs. “I’m glad it is where it is today, where people are coming out and feel comfortable talking about it. Like (Mitchell Robinson) just came out and said what he said. I don’t think during my playing time anybody would have done that,” Sweetney said. So that’s refreshing. For him, he has his teammates. You can tell they genuinely like and love each other. For him, that means a lot. So he has his teammates, his coaches, ownership, management. He has a huge support system. I’m glad he has all that. I didn’t have any of that stuff so I was kind of on an island. But I’m so glad mental health is where it is.” RIP

A college student recently came up to him while he was working out, telling him how much DeRozan’s words made him feel seen. In another instance, a young man came up to him and told him, “You saved my life.” DeRozan’s mind returns to the image of a father. He came up to DeRozan: “My son was suicidal until he heard your story.” “That means the world to me because a lot of times, it’s just me speaking honestly about things I’m going through, things that I may feel,” DeRozan says. “For people to come up to me and acknowledge that means I’m doing the right thing by being vulnerable and putting myself out there to have these conversations because it’s helping somebody. Even if it’s just one person, it’s helpful.”

Nationally, men account for nearly 80 percent of suicide deaths. Young Black men are dying by suicide at higher rates than their White peers for the first time. “We carry so much weight on our shoulders. We sweep so much stuff under the rug, so you don’t even realize how much until you uncover it,” DeRozan says, “and you realize how much hurt, how much pain, how much stuff you compartmentalize. You never know when that breaking point may hit. “The approach I try to take is being vulnerable and letting people know you’re not alone.”

NBA superstar Stephen Curry made a quick trip to Hong Kong on Monday, and visited a local school where he told pupils that working hard and accepting that sometimes failure happens had helped make him a four-time champion. Appearing in the city for the first time in 10 years, Curry arrived at Shun Tak Fraternal Association Leung Kau Kui College in Tuen Mun to thunderous cheers from pupils, teachers and a crowd of more than 1,000 onlookers.

Curry, who has earned a reputation for making crucial and often game-winning shots, also said “it’s OK” to be nervous. “I still get nervous because if you don’t, that means it doesn’t matter to you,” he said. “But I rely on all the times that I’ve shot the shots that I know that I’m about to go do on the court, and then I’m OK if I miss it, I’m not gonna be happy. I know that failure is a part of it. You have to be able to accept what happens out there on the court.”
Advertisement

“You have to understand that’s part of life,” said Curry, who was drafted seventh overall by the Golden State Warriors in 2009. “People are always going to say that you can’t do this, you can’t do that. But I just made sure that I had as much fun as possible, and I relied on my work ethic to get me through. I had big dreams, but I worried about just getting better every single day, and then eventually, hopefully, I could accomplish those goals.”

Chicago Bulls star Josh Giddey has brought a touch of NBA glamour to Mirrabooka, spending six hours meeting young basketballers at a charity camp aimed at supporting mental health and resilience. More than 300 children, including Telethon children and their families, attended the Basketball Camp at Stirling Leisure on Saturday, August 15. Young players were given the opportunity to meet the 23-year-old Australian NBA star, take part in basketball drills, and ask questions about his journey to the world’s biggest basketball league.

Newcastle native and NBA player Duncan Robinson is in the Granite State this weekend to put on a charity basketball event in honor of his brother, Eli. Eli Robinson died in April 2025 after losing his battle with schizophrenia, addiction, and mental illness.

"We're just really honored to put on this event in honor of our brother, Eli Robinson. You know, he obviously would have loved to have been here, but I know this is making him proud for sure," Duncan Robinson said. The Robinson family has been an active advocate for mental health awareness and suicide prevention. "It's OK to not be OK," Robinson said. "It's OK to be going through something. I think the most important thing you can do is lean into a community. And that's what we're really trying to foster here today."

Kai Jones: "I requested (Hornets) to waive me because they were telling me that they didn't think I was ready to come into training camp and from a mental health perspective. So, there were some things that I was doing, like my sleep pattern, and at this time I was going through a lot. So, my great-grandmother had passed away, and that wasn't the only thing. It was also the way that the things that happened with my family after the fact. I was just in a mental place of, damn, I didn't feel as at peace as I am now. I didn't feel as close to my family as I am now. I just felt like all these existential questions of life and death, and am I ever going to pass away?"
Advertisement

Blake was on the "Friends Keep Secrets" podcast Tuesday with Lil Dicky, Kristin Batalucco, and Benny Blanco when recalled a nightmare interaction with a sports psychologist during his time with the Los Angeles Clippers. He says the shrink came over to his place after practice one day and they chatted ... and then the shrink turned around and called up Blake's coach to spill about their convo. Blake says he took a shower after their chat and when he was done, he checked his phone to see he had a missed call and voicemail from the psychologist. He listened to the message ... and the shrink had accidentally called and left a voicemail meant for Blake's coach, recapping their supposedly private chat. Safe to say, Blake was done with sports psychologists right then and there ... but he clearly didn't need one ... because the Hall of Famer's career exploded to new heights after the sit down.

Dwyane Wade shared that retiring from basketball — a sport he had played his entire life — took an emotional toll. “Once you retire, that's when, you know … you really go through a moment, a time of depression,” he said. “And it's how you decide to handle that depression which is going to determine your next step because, you know — since I was 5 years old — that's what I did, played basketball. And then I was really good at it. So now you're coming out of this world and … now I got to get another skill,” he continued.

Wade went on to say that “the first thing” he did when he retired was start therapy, despite the fact that he previously had some resistance to the idea. “I was the Black man that was like, ‘Therapy ain't for me,' ” he explained. However, Wade said he intuitively knew he needed an emotional outlet post-retirement. “Basketball not only was a place where I had so much success … it was also my outlet, you know what I mean? Like, I could scream. I can yell. I can curse. I could, you know — not fight — but you know, get a little aggressive out there, and I just can't do all those things [in everyday life]. I can't come home and do all those [things]," he said.
JR Smith: "I played 16 years, I probably played 70% of my career depressed. That's crazy to think about. That's nuts. And to still be able to have a, I would say a good career, it wasn't great, it was a good career, but I literally think about this shit all the time, bro. My potential was so high in that aspect of it."