Many years ago, when I was head coach of Leinster, a very young Niall Breslin sat opposite me in my office.
As a GAA footballer for Westmeath and an Ireland under-21 representative in rugby, he had won the genetic lottery. He was big, handsome and athletic. He was also a warrior built for rugby. When contact training started 'Bressie' was in the thick of it, giving as good as he got.
It was only his first year as a professional player with Leinster but I believed he had the potential to become an elite level back rower. My long-term plan was to build a balanced back row with Niall at blindside, Shane Jennings at openside and Jamie Heaslip at number eight.
Not a bad combination.
I told him about my plans but I could see he did not truly believe me. It was one of a long list of things that I could not figure out about this talented kid.
Niall has given me permission to tell our story. A story in which I still feel that I let him down, yet almost two decades later he continues to inspire me and thousands of others. To Niall’s great credit he doesn’t believe I caused him any harm or that I did anything wrong. But if I knew then what I know now, things for Niall may have been very different.
In my office that day we were having the type of conversation that every coach and player wants to avoid. I needed to know why he was late or simply not turning up to the gym, field sessions or team meetings.
I was confused as to why a young man, so obviously athletically gifted, who thrived in physical contact and has been given the chance to fulfil his rugby dream simply did not turn up?
To make it in professional rugby you have to be a Totus Porcus. That is, a rugby ‘whole hog’. Committed up to your back teeth and beyond. Something was holding Niall back and I was at loss to understand what it was.
A few weeks before on a trip to Belfast after we played Ulster, Niall had wrestled the team guitar away from Victor Costello's extremely strong grip. As he started to sing the team was astonished. Niall's face lit up and he transformed into Bressie the entertainer. His Leinster teammates became his first bunch of fans. While we had won the game, all the talk was about how good young Breslin was with the guitar. Even Victor, our team troubadour, grudgingly admitted Bressie's singing and playing had him trumped.
At the time I could see his pain but I had no concept of the cause. As coaches, we never even considered the mental health of our players
The rest of Niall’s story with Leinster is where I consider I failed him.
Within a year Niall sat in my office and told me he was leaving rugby to become a musician. I was shocked. While the chances of making it as a professional rugby player are exceptionally slim, the odds of making it in music are even worse. I literally begged Niall not to dump his rugby and attempt to pursue both dreams. I lost the argument and Niall walked out of Leinster never to return.
I vividly recall my feeling of failure after Niall left. For years I held that nagging belief that Niall was a giant piece of athletic marble that was handed into my craft. I believed that somewhere in that unfathomable being there was a rugby David. My failing was that I was not a Michelangelo who could carve away all the chunks that were hiding his considerable talent.
In the years to come my kids could not care less who I coached, but the fact that I knew the lead singer of The Blizzards astonished them. Against unimaginable odds, Niall established himself in the Irish music world.
As his stature in the music industry grew, he bravely began to tell his version of his time at Leinster. Even though it was a story I had witnessed, I was hearing his truth for the first time.
Niall told of his battles with crippling anxiety and depression. He described the disabling effects that his early medications and self-medicating had on him, including debilitating bouts of insomnia, which was the reason why he was always late. He also described the deep fear he held that someone at his rugby club would find out about his secret inner battles.
I remain ashamed that I missed every single one of the many warning signs that Niall needed my help.
Over the years Niall and I have had several conversations about those days. We even spoke on his podcast ‘Where is my mind?’ on the impact my ignorance had on him at the time. I have apologised to him more than once. Graciously, he has absolved me.
At the time I could see his pain but I had no concept of the cause. As coaches, we never even considered the mental health of our players. In fact, mental health was never discussed at any level.
Niall has also told me that he felt that the stigma surrounding mental health during that period was so severe that it stopped him from seeking help from our doctors. In our alpha male world, to show weakness or vulnerability was a risky business. So Niall said nothing and left.
Out of ignorance, I did not help Niall, but because of his courage, I was able to get support to others
If only I had encouraged Niall to speak with our medical team, that great backrow I had planned may have become a reality. Niall would have received the help he deserved and not felt so isolated that he abandoned his rugby dream.
Despite the dark experiences of those days, Niall found the courage to empower himself and tell his story. He became a champion of ripping down the stigma surrounding mental health. His podcasts and award winning book, My Mate Jeffery, have educated me and countless thousands of others in becoming much more aware of the issues surrounding mental health.
Niall’s advocacy forced me to confront my own ignorance regarding the mental health of the players I was coaching. When I was coaching at other clubs there were young men under my watch that needed help and thanks to Niall, I was able to guide them in seeking support.
Out of ignorance, I did not help Niall, but because of his courage, I was able to get support to others. Without powerful advocates like Niall, who inspire and educate, that would not have happened.
Last week Keith Earls used his profile as one of Ireland's most admired rugby players to tell his own story of fighting for his mental health. Keith's words were painful to listen to but uplifting and inspiring to hear.
Keith has stepped up to join leaders like Niall, who are brave enough to share their stories so that our awareness and understanding of mental health can grow and we can toss away any suggestions of stigma.
Keith's brutal self-honesty, which is a hallmark of a sporting great, has re-energised our discussions on mental health and made it relevant for a new generation. Keith has created a legacy of awareness that will endure across the community long after his wonderful exploits for Munster and Ireland have come to end.
Through his courage in telling his story, Keith Earls is now inspiring another generation to be more compassionate and understanding of mental health
Keith and Niall’s message could not more clear: mental health is as essential as physical health. If you don’t feel okay, ask for help. You can and will get better.
We have a saying in Australia that was drummed into us as kids: "look after your mates."
If you see your teammate, friend, partner, brother, sister, parent or child acting as if they need support ask, “are you okay?” Reassure them that help is as close as their GP.
Niall Breslin continues to inspire me and thousands of others to become more aware of mental health in themselves and those they love. Through his courage in telling his story, Keith Earls is now inspiring another generation to be more compassionate and understanding of mental health.
To be inspired by others is one of the greatest aspects of the human condition. Yet inspiration is symbiotic. Which is a fancy way of saying, it’s a two-way street. Those who inspire others, can be uplifted in return.
I truly hope that both Niall and Keith are as equally uplifted in telling their stories as we have been in witnessing their courage as we listen to them.
