Hey, Concussions Remind Us Of Jamie Carey

There has been much buzz in the women's sports blogsphere of late after the revelation that female athletes actually suffer concussions 68% more than men.  That is a staggering number.  And their concussions also seem to be more severe and have serious lingering aftereffects.  But of course the research has only just started to be noted, and we cannot wait for the 'this means women shouldn't play contact sports' backlash. 

Since this is the slough of despond before things get interesting again with the first round of NCAA tourneys plus the start of the college basetball season, we thought it would be a good time for an archive piece.  We're kind of fond of Jamie Carey around here, and haven't gotten a chance to post about her this year.  I know if you're a basketball follower you've heard this, but it's such a great story.  Plus it also contains a second issue that women are exponentially more prone to than men, clinical depression.  A lot to load on one small point guard. 

2006:

A few days ago wnba.com ran another of its bull pieces, in which they send a team, most of whom haven't read anything more challenging than an issue of Cosmo in years, to tell elementary school kids that reading is fun.  It was the usual debacle (one Australian player informed the kids that if she couldn't read, she couldn't have made it through the airport), until Katie Douglas, who despite her full-on accent is no fool, turned to Jamie Carey and asked how many books she'd read this summer.  "Ten or eleven," she replied.  The author rewarded this with an exclamation point, but if he'd been paying attention to this woman's life story he wouldn't have needed to. 

The tale began in Colorado, where a skinny, short point guard with braces and the propensity to make strange faces while driving the lane graduated from high school in 1997.  Not only an all-state athlete but the valedictorian of her class, Carey received a full ride to Stanford, at the time a top five program.  She quickly became popular in Palo Alto, earning Pac-10 freshman of the year honors, declaring a computer science/philosophy major, and even working at Bytes.  But being skinny, short, and fearless are sometimes dangerous attributes in combination.  Before the start of her sophomore season, Carey took a charge and banged her head off the hardwood floor.  Although she'd had concussions in the past, the effects of this one refused to go away.  Dizzy whenever she moved too quickly and battered by headaches, Carey could barely walk.  She was forced to change her major when quantitative information couldn't stay in her memory.  The Stanford medical staff told her in no uncertain terms that her basketball career was over, and she announced, in tears, her retirement from NCAA competition. Then she received the news that her only sibling, her brother, had committed suicide. 

Carey spiraled into a clinical depression herself, but plugged doggedly on, trying to graduate as an everyday student.  The summer before her junior year, someone suggested she try the University of Texas' medical facilities to try and ease the residual effects of the concussions that still clouded her mind.  Carey moved to Austin for a few months.  And, as deus ex machina as it seems, they fixed her. Inside of a year, the pain in Carey's head was gone and she could run again.  With an oversized mouth-guard and an admonition not to take any charges, she could also play basketball.  Overjoyed, she applied to be reinstated at Stanford.  The university's doctors (and lawyers, and the school president) said no.  Too much of a risk.  UT Austin, a program on the make, was not in any position to be so cautious.  By this point Carey, a western girl at heart, had come to love Austin.  She enrolled at UT, captained the basketball team, and when she blew through the end of her sociology major applied for a masters in sports management.  She adopted a terminally ill dog which she nursed back to health, and coached kids at the Y.  Her teammates called her 'Grandma.'  And like the end of some truly improbable sports film, Carey was an All-American who led UT to the Final Four.   

Epilogue: Clearly, this is enough rags-to-riches drama for one life.  By all accounts, Jamie Carey is an intense, no-nonsense kind of gal who would rather be off playing guitar than seeking out notoriety. Teaching kids basketball is her passion, and everyone assumed that once her comeback was complete, that was what she'd do.  After all, the WNBA is a league filled with huge, physical players in which most college stars get pushed around and completely dominated, let alone a woman who's 5'6 and not supposed to take contact.  When Carey was drafted by the Connecticut Sun, it was a nice gesture.  When she made the roster as Lindsay Whalen's backup, it was a pleasant surprise.  Now that she's taken over duties in the WNBA finals after Whalen's injury, and hit a huge three to help win Game Two (missed layup be damned), we all just shake our heads and say, that's Jamie.

The Sun went on to lose that series, and still chase their elusive first WNBA championship.