Public mourning bonds KSU teammates

MANHATTAN (AP) — They flew to Oklahoma the night before a game, saw the heartache in Clent Stewart’s eyes, shared his pain with tears and hugs.

They wore pink warmup shirts in honor of his mother, black patches on their uniforms, too. The coaches paid their respects with pink ribbons on their lapels.

Stewart is one of their own, a teammate, a friend, as close to family as it gets. His pain was theirs and they were going to support him the best way they knew how, publicly, arms opened wide for everyone to see.

‘‘We’re family. We’re not a basketball team,’’ Kansas State freshman Michael Beasley said. ‘‘We’re brothers.’’

Kansas State’s response to the death of Vanessa Stewart — and the pain it caused her son — is not unique in athletics. From the simple act of an athlete writing a relative’s name on his sneakers to elaborate memorial services, tragedy and tribute have become intertwined in the sports world.

But how much do these public displays of support help?

Quite a bit, actually.

Mourning the loss of a loved one is one of the most difficult aspects of the human experience. Bereavement is an extremely personal and indescribable feeling; no two people experience it the same way.

One of the key steps in the grieving process is acknowledging what happened, talking out the emotions that come with a devastating loss. Many times friends or family members can’t provide support because they are too uncomfortable with the situation or struggling with their own feelings.

The bond between teammates, fostered by the hours spent together working toward a common goal, can sometimes bridge the emotional gap.

‘‘Emotional support is crucial,’’ said David Fireman, director of the Center for Grief Recovery in Chicago. ‘‘People say things, ’You’re doing so well, you’re handling this so well,’ but what they’re really saying is ’I don’t know how bad it is and it scares me.’

‘‘It’s especially important to not let that person grieve alone. To come together as a community and support them and each other is really very critical.’’

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Few environments provide support — at least publicly — like the sports world.

When Thurman Munson died in a plane crash in 1979, the New York Yankees held a pregame ceremony in his honor, the starters taking the field while leaving the catcher’s box open.

After Loyola Marymount’s Hank Gathers collapsed and died during a game in 1990, teammate Bo Kimble shot left-handed free throws during the NCAA tournament in memory of his friend.

And when Washington cornerback Sean Taylor was slain at his home in November, the Redskins started the next game with 10 defenders and his No. 21 was found on everything from towels to T-shirts to face paint.

Three players — tackle Chris Samuels, tight end Chris Cooley and long snapper Ethan Albright — also wore Taylor’s number during the Pro Bowl.

Sometimes the tributes are more simple.

Holding a moment of silence before a game has become commonplace following a tragedy. Many players point to the sky after a big play in honor of loved ones, most notably Barry Bonds after a homer. Several teams have added patches to their uniforms — the Chicago Bears still wear ‘‘GSH’’ patches in honor of founder George Halas — or worn black arm bands in memory of members of the organization.

But these same gestures might seem out of place if taken away from the arenas and fields.

People in an office might bring flowers and cards, offer condolences to a co-worker who recently lost a loved one, but it would probably seem odd if they showed up wearing the shirts of the same color or patches on their suit jackets.

‘‘It’s really important for people to come together for emotional support after a loss, particularly a sudden loss,’’ Fireman said. ‘‘Funerals, mourning rituals, sometimes they’re thought of as outmoded, but they really do help people get through their grief.’’

Public support for a mourning teammate often stems from what happens away from the spotlight.

Teammates spend countless hours practicing, playing, traveling, living and eating together. Many athletes, particularly on the collegiate level, are away from home for the first time and the team becomes their surrogate families, their coaches parental figures, their teammates siblings.

‘‘It’s not a job. You don’t just show up and punch a timecard, then drink your coffee, punch your timecard and leave,’’ Kansas State coach Frank Martin said. ‘‘When you play sports, you live with another. That’s why teams that are divided, that don’t have that camaraderie, don’t have that respect for each other. It’s hard for those teams to succeed.’’

Mourning as a group is at the very core of what it means to be a team.

Coaches spend countless hours trying to create a cohesive unit, a group of players bonded by common goals. The initial purpose of team bonding is about winning, becoming better on the court.

But it works both ways. By becoming closer on their court, the players ultimately become tighter off it.

‘‘I think all the great coaches say it’s not all I, it’s us, we’re going to live and die as a team,’’ sports psychologist Patrick Cohn said. ‘‘Many coaches approach it from that philosophy, so it comes down from the top that the coaches encourage that teamwork and working together. Otherwise you can’t survive.’’

And that’s just what the Kansas State players have done in circling the wagons around Stewart.

‘‘They’ve fought that disease together for five years and I know how important she was in his life, how much it hurt him to see her suffer, so he was crushed by it,’’ Martin said. ‘‘He’s really down and out by it. I think seeing our whole group of people, coaches, staff, players, show up there for him I think really assisted in his healing process and his ability to start to move forward.’’

And moving forward is what grieving is all about.