Star rugby winger D.T.H. van der Merwe on mental health after retirement: 'The ones that look the strongest could be hurting the most'
Breaking through the stigma around mental health, Canada's all-time leading try-scorer opened up to Olympics.com about the dark months he went through after his post-retirement plan fell apart and shared strategies to help other athletes avoid similar struggles.
Retirement from competitive sport is tough. Anticipating that, Canadian rugby player D.T.H. van der Merwe had it all figured out in advance.
The former Team Canada, Glasgow Warriors and LA Giltinis player mapped out his post-sports career as a firefighter, taken the necessary courses and was confident in his success off the pitch. Having worked everything out to the smallest details, it was then even more of a shock when things did not go according to plan.
Instead of extinguishing fires, van der Merwe found himself struggling through the "darkest three months" of his life.
"You never think it's going to happen to you," van der Merwe told Olympics.com. "I always thought I had a game plan. I thought I had this figured out. I thought that, when I retire, I would just go into the next career path. I do my competition for the fire. I'd go through all their steps and I would get hired within a year or two. Then when doors are closing on you and you don't get past that first step even, it really makes you second guess yourself.
"I was always trying to speak because I wanted to help other people," continued the athlete who became an advocate for mental health awareness long before his own retirement. "I thought I had all the answers. I thought I knew what was going to hit me when I retire and that I'm going to just move on and I knew that I'm going to be strong enough, but it wasn't the case."
Still speaking openly about the mental health issues that rugby players can face after ending their careers, now having gone through that journey himself, van der Merwe has added a new, personal layer to the message he is sharing with others.
Olympics.com spoke to Canada's all-time leading try-scorer about the new purpose he found in his post-retirement life and the strategies that athletes and those around them can use to soften the mental downfalls that come after hearing the final whistle.
A fireproof plan gone awry
During van der Merwe's years as a professional rugby player, which saw him play at four Rugby World Cups from 2007 to 2019, he has spoken out about the mental struggles athletes can have in their post-sport lives and encouraged everyone to have a solid retirement plan.
And in that, he led by example.
The South African-born player used the off-seasons to take firefighter courses and planned out a smooth move for his family back to Canada after his oversees playing ventures. But then things started to go off course.
First, his retirement from Team Canada lost some lustre when what would have been his career’s last World Cup match was cancelled due to Typhoon Hagibis. Instead of playing against Namibia in Kamaishi, the team spent the afternoon cleaning up mud from streets to help the locals.
Van der Merwe's retirement from club rugby was also not what he expected. Covid hit while he was in his eighth season with the Glasgow Warriors. He next found himself on the pitch an ocean away, at LA Giltinis, where he played for two years. But rather than culminating in a celebration, his career came to an abrupt end.
"That was almost more of a shock than the final game in the 2019 World Cup that got cancelled because of the weather. We got kicked out of the league there. So then I just decided, no, my body had enough and it was time to come home," van der Merwe said. "My daughter, the oldest one, she's 10 years old and she's like, 'Oh, yeah, I've been in six different schools now'. And I was like, 'Whoa, I never really thought of it that way'. It's time for her to start making some lifelong friends and settling down in one place."
The family of five made a move to Victoria, Canada on October 28, 2022, and van der Merwe set off to complete the outstanding tasks for launching his next career as a firefighter.
He took a few more courses, got First Aid certificates, upgraded his driver's license to a Class 3 and started working at a fire alarm technician company to boost his resume. Feeling fully prepared, van der Merwe then applied to two fire halls and was stunned when he failed to make it through the first rounds of the scanning process.
"It was tough, hearing 'no' for the first time," the star winger recalled. "I've worked so hard in my rugby career and I've always had good success with how hard I've worked. But then not getting through these two competitions for firefighting, something that I've planned for since 2013, it was a bit of a shock to the system.
"November, December, January were probably the darkest three months I've ever had, trying to figure out where to go with the 'no' answers, finding another career."
Breaking the silence, taking off the mask
Van der Merwe realised the importance of mental health long before he faced challenging times himself. And with it, the tragic outcomes that staying silent could have.
Two of his teammates had to end their careers after suffering concussions and the severe mental health issues that ensued. Rooming with one of them, van der Merwe once discovered his teammate sheltering in their shared hotel room with the lights off and the curtains drawn.
He later watched another rugby friend, who played at local clubs, go from being "so happy and loving life" to passing away after two weeks of alcohol abuse.
The sudden death of his friend came as a shock to van der Merwe, but now having been on the opposite side of the mental health conversation, he also realises why the signals are sometimes easy to ignore.
Two months ago he sat around a table with about 10 friends, all former rugby players, when the conversation turned to post-sport careers.
"They all have very successful post-rugby careers and they're explaining how easy it was," van der Merwe recalled. "And I was like, 'No. You guys have no idea. I just went through the three darkest months of my whole life and not a single one of you guys called me and asked me how I'm doing. Is there anything to help with?' And they were shocked.
"Maybe I give off an image that I'm mentally strong because I speak about it so much and people don't expect that to happen with someone [like me]. I have been successful in my rugby career. Maybe people think, well, he was successful in rugby and he's made some good money and now he'll be successful with whatever's next.
"People need to realise that even the ones that look the strongest could actually be hurting the most. It's a bigger mask they're wearing. And I think that's my case because these guys are good people and I feel like they would all reach out if they had any sort of inkling of of me struggling, they would have reached out. But maybe my persona is something that never triggered them to call in and check in."
Strategies for post-retirement
Aside from being a sympathetic ear, the best way friends can help, van der Merwe said, is by showing athletes the different options they have after hanging up the jersey.
"The best teachers are our peers, our friends and the ones who've done that before," van der Merwe said. "You've had conversations with people that can help you, but maybe there's opportunities within your friends' work. They can ask their colleagues, their bosses, whatever. Is there an opportunity here? Talk about what courses you took or what plan you set out for yourself. Who did you speak to? Which course did you take online or did you study for something extra? What did you do in the meantime?"
The job options are vast, and his friends' career choices are proof of that. Just looking around the table van der Merwe was at two months ago, three of his friends have started their own real estate company. Another is selling tower cranes.
"Everyone doesn't know, 'I want to be a doctor or I want to be this. I want to do that'," van der Merwe said. "There's so many jobs out there that you would never think of, like selling a crane. This friend doesn't have a degree, but who would think of selling a crane? I don't even know how you could go about that. So, it's conversation like that."
And when it comes to timing these conversations, it is also never too early to start talking.
While professional rugby careers are short – spanning roughly from 18 years old to a maximum 36 – van der Merwe encourages players to spend that time preparing for the life after. This could include doing internships during the off-season, having conversations with companies in the industry or people who have already made the transition.
And while the players are doing that, it is helpful for the people around them to check up on them from time to time. When doing so, van der Merwe encourages people not simply to ask their friends how they are, but asking them how they are on a scale of one to 10.
“Having someone answering you on a scale, you can compare your own notes to like, 'Hey, well, a month ago you were here and now you're here'," he said. "So whether things are going better or worse, then you can alter the way you speak. It's a tone, how you speak to the person. If they're really down, you've got to be more sympathetic. If they're up on the scale, then you could be more positive."
The key is to step away from stereotypical locker room talk and have more honest, compassionate conversations.
"The way we used to deliver the message back in the day in rugby was just, 'Suck it up, play on'. We could all play through injuries and you got to be careful with the way nowadays how you deliver that message," van der Merwe said. "We need to focus on our mental toughness as much as we're doing on our physical toughness. We all love going to the gym, going for runs and we're actively fit. But are we mentally fit? Are we preparing for disaster years down the line?"
Checking in with friends and asking them how they are on a scale of one to 10 can help lessen the mental burden of retirement.
Changing course: From fire halls to police stations
The dark times eventually ended for van der Merwe as well. Six months after his firefighting career fell through, a friend who had done both firefighting and police work suggested he contact the local police department.
Keeping an open mind, van der Merwe met with police officers in two cities and even went for a ride along.
"I absolutely loved it. I had the goosebumps and that butterfly effect that I would get for rugby games and I was like, 'This is something I think I can do myself'," said van der Merwe who started the application process to join the police force shortly after.
"It's something that really transitions well from my rugby career. Again, we go back to the teamwork - which the fire department has the same - the teamwork, the trust, coming up with a game plan. And then if the game plan doesn't work, you've got to change on the fly and communicate with each other.
"When I did go through my application process, it was like, 'Well, I know this because this is what we do in rugby'. And I could always relate all scenarios back to rugby. And I think that's why I was successful in my quite intensive interview process, because I constantly would think back about a situation that I had in rugby and how it would translate to the police force."
Weekends at the van der Merwe's
Weekends used to be the time when van der Merwe would step out onto the rugby pitch with his teammates to then spend 80 minutes at their physical limit to rousing cheers from the spectators. More than a year since his retirement, the weekends are still the hardest part of the week for the former winger.
Now waiting for his first rotation with the police force to begin, van der Merwe stays busy by working full-time and coaching his local rugby club, James Bay, in the evenings.
And while post-retirement weekends are difficult to get used to, van der Merwe stays upbeat by finding a different outlet to channel his competitive energy.
"My kids are all in sport, soccer and rugby and my competitive nature just doesn't stop. So I get very into the games," the father-of-three said with a laugh. "I don't know anything about soccer. My daughter, she plays a bit of a higher level. It's a gold standard, and I'm just like, 'You've got to be more aggressive!'. I just give her the eyes and stuff and she knows when I'm there, like she's got to work hard.
"But I got to be careful because I can't push too hard. Just because I love being pushed so hard, it doesn't mean they do. But my daughter, I think she's just like me, so I think we're going to go far with her."