Some tasks are carried out in public and some in the quiet of the mind, and this story belongs to the second kind even though it began in a stadium. Julius Thomas, once a Denver tight end who celebrated touchdowns in the glare of the crowd, now works from a desk in Florida, building tools to help athletes and professionals tend to the inner life that the game rarely asked them to examine. He turned toward psychology after discovering that his greatest earning years had been among his most painful, and his effort is a quiet reply to a culture that still treats struggling minds as weakness. Whet
Former Broncos Star Julius Thomas Turns Football Lessons Into Mental Health Work for Athletes
The year he made the most money was the hardest of his career
Mark
Why does a story about a retired tight end belong in a conversation about mental health?
Mimi
Because of the contract. He signed for $46 million in 2015 and asked why he didn't feel happier. He says that was his hardest year.
Mark
That seems to run against what most people assume money fixes.
Mimi
Right, and he doesn't blame football. He says athletes are trained physically but not mentally and emotionally.
Luke
Careful, though. That's his account of his own experience. The article doesn't give us outside evidence about how athletes in general are trained.
Mark
What about the statistics, one in three and one in five?
Luke
Those are figures Thomas states. The piece doesn't cite where they come from, so I'd treat them as his claims.
Mimi
Fair. What is documented is his path: retirement in 2018, psychology, neuroscience, a doctorate, a clinical residency at Nova Southeastern.
Mark
And the app?
Mimi
Safety guardrails, a coach on demand, a waitlist. Coach Chris Fowler likes the anonymity for players too proud to talk in person.
Luke
But that's one coach's impression. We don't know if it improves outcomes, how many people use it, or when it launches.
Mark
So what's the real test?
Mimi
Whether people use it once it opens up beyond the waitlist.
O Pulso
- A former Pro Bowl tight end who thrived on the field says his richest contract years were his hardest, and that realization sent him in a new direction.
- Sports still treat mental health as a weakness, and a high-profile public jab at a retired player's decision to step away shows how deep the stigma runs.
- Thomas is building Optimal Performance, an app with an on-call performance coach, designed so athletes can seek support privately instead of face to face.
- The app is currently on a waitlist, and its wider release will test how many people want anonymous mental health help.
Some tasks are carried out in public and some in the quiet of the mind, and this story belongs to the second kind even though it began in a stadium. Julius Thomas, once a Denver tight end who celebrated touchdowns in the glare of the crowd, now works from a desk in Florida, building tools to help athletes and professionals tend to the inner life that the game rarely asked them to examine. He turned toward psychology after discovering that his greatest earning years had been among his most painful, and his effort is a quiet reply to a culture that still treats struggling minds as weakness. Whether that reply reaches the people who need it will depend on whether they are willing to reach for help without anyone watching.
On an October afternoon in 2014, Julius Thomas caught a touchdown for the Broncos against the Jets and stomped his feet in celebration, the picture of a player who made the hard look easy. Now 38, he sits at a desk in Fort Lauderdale, a doctorate on the wall behind him, talking about a very different kind of work.
His path was never a straight line. He starred in basketball at Portland State before walking on to the football team and being drafted by Denver. Under Peyton Manning he became a two-time Pro Bowler, learning that every detail mattered. Teammates remember him reading paperbacks at his locker, someone who wanted to understand life as much as the playbook.
Even at the height of his success, something was missing. After signing a lucrative contract with Jacksonville, he found himself asking why he felt so unhappy. He says athletes are trained like gladiators in body but left untaught in mind and emotion, and he had no map for what he was feeling.
When he retired in 2018, he set out to learn psychology and then neuroscience, partly to understand CTE and partly to understand himself. Today he sees the same struggles in high-pressure careers everywhere, and he believes well-being is what makes performance last. He has seen signs of this in teammates and wishes he had understood it sooner.
His mission was sharpened when a broadcaster mocked a retired lineman's decision to step away for personal reasons. Thomas saw it as proof of how far there still is to go. Optimal Performance, his app and service, aims to offer private, accountability-based coaching, and a coach who has used it says it is especially useful for young players too proud to ask for help in person. The app is still on a waitlist, and its release will show how many people are ready to take that step.
On Oct. 12, 2014, Julius Thomas lined up wide against the New York Jets, stutter-stepped right, cut left, and took a football square in the chest for a touchdown. The Broncos tight end stomped his feet and shouted about how easy it all was. This week, at 38, Thomas sat at a desk in his Fort Lauderdale home, in a white T-shirt with gray in his hair, a framed Portland State basketball jersey and a doctorate degree on the wall behind him, and spent 30 minutes telling The Denver Post about a very different kind of work.
The path was never conventional. Thomas starred in basketball at Portland State, leading the Vikings to the NCAA tournament in 2008 and 2009. When his basketball career ended, the 6-foot-5, 255-pound athlete walked on to the football team, caught the eyes of scouts, and was drafted by Denver in the fourth round. He became a two-time Pro Bowl tight end under Peyton Manning, who he says held him to a standard he had to reach just to get on the field. Once he reached it, he says, he never went back. Manning taught him to read defenses and understand the offense, and no detail was too small.
Former teammate Joel Dreessen remembers a player unlike the others. Thomas was the only one he can recall sitting at his locker reading a paperback, someone who wanted to learn everything about life as well as every play and coverage in football.
But Thomas noticed something even as he met the challenge of the game. In March 2015 he signed a five-year, $46 million contract with the Jacksonville Jaguars, and found himself asking why he didn't feel happier. The year he made the most money, he says, was the hardest of his career, and he couldn't make sense of it. Athletes, he says, are trained like gladiators physically but not on the mental and emotional side. He did not know how to navigate what he was going through.
When he retired in 2018, he began studying psychology and later neuroscience, driven partly by a desire to understand CTE, the neurodegenerative disease found in football players and boxers. He completed a one-year clinical residency at Nova Southeastern's Psychology Services Center. Former Broncos defensive back Omar Bolden says the turn is special but not surprising: Thomas was an intellectual who would never have settled for only an NFL career, and Bolden believes his work will affect many young people.
Thomas concluded, from his studies and his own experience, that people in high-stress, high-achieving jobs face similar struggles, and that well-being is what makes performance sustainable. He cites figures that one in three Americans will experience an anxiety disorder, one in five a depressive disorder, and that young men deal with severe loneliness. He says he saw signs of this in himself and in some NFL teammates, and wishes he had understood it sooner.
That conviction shaped his reaction to ESPN's Stephen A. Smith, who made light of offensive lineman Lane Johnson's recent retirement for personal reasons. Thomas called it a perfect example of how far there is to go: a player with a great career who endured the pain and had the humility to leave, and who got that response. Someone with a big audience, he said, only adds to the stigma.
Thomas founded Optimal Performance to keep success from costing people their health. He has partnered with Verizon and the San Antonio Spurs on performance and culture, and has spent countless hours building an app with safety guardrails that offers a performance coach at the user's convenience. Saginaw Valley State men's basketball coach Chris Fowler has used it and says it builds routines through accountability and discipline. He sees it as an anonymous option for young players who may be too proud to talk face to face, such as on a road trip before a game. Thomas's interview was arranged by the Pro Athlete Community, a 4,500-member group that helps former athletes thrive beyond sports.
The app is not yet widely available, but a waitlist is open. Its release will show how many people want help they can reach privately.
Citações Notáveis
We are trained gladiators, physically. But we are not trained on the mental and emotional side.— Julius Thomas
He was such an intellectual. With retirement in his 30s, there was no way he would settle for just having an NFL career.— Omar Bolden, former Broncos defensive back
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