PGA Tour player Grayson Murray’s death is the terrible reminder of depression’s grips
Whatever Scottie Scheffler is going through right now with a stupid legal issue is a nothing. So some of the new grass as part of the complete course renovations at Colonial Country Club looks bad.
Who cares?
On Saturday afternoon, when news hit that PGA Tour player Grayson Murray was dead, everything was put in its proper place. So much of what we waste so much time worrying about is just that. A waste.
Because there is life. And there is death.
On Sunday morning, Murray’s parents, Eric and Terry, released the following statement:
“We have spent the last 24 hours trying to come to terms with the fact that our son is gone. It’s surreal that we not only have to admit it to ourselves, but that we also have to acknowledge it to the world. It’s a nightmare.
“We have so many questions that have no answers.
“But one.
“Was Grayson loved? The answer is yes. By us, his brother Cameron, his sister Erica, all of his extended family, by his friends, by his fellow players and — it seems — by many of you who are reading this. He was loved and he will be missed.
“We would like to thank the PGA TOUR and the entire world of golf for the outpouring of support. Life wasn’t always easy for Grayson, and although he took his own life, we know he rests peacefully now.
“Please respect our privacy as we work through this incredible tragedy, and please honor Grayson by being kind to one another. If that becomes his legacy, we could ask for nothing else.
“Thank you.”
The press release includes the following: “If you are experiencing a mental health crisis, please call the national suicide and crisis lifeline in the United States at 988 or visit their website at 988lifeline.org.”
None of us really know what someone is going through, and how the stress of it all affects them specifically or what they’re dealing with daily. Navigating. Juggling. The pain they mask behind a smile that is fraudulent, albeit it well intended.
The terms “mental health awareness” and “mental health crisis” have evolved from something we hid in shame to something that is dangerously close to being overused. Because there are levels.
Levels that we have not figured out and may never. “Mental health” is so inexact that no amount of money, science or research may ever cure it.
Murray, 30, is a man who made it to the PGA Tour, and won tournaments on it. To achieve both is a statistical anomaly, and should be a lifelong sense of joy and pride.
Murray is one of those “he has everything going for him” people who is the envy of millions. Those wins, the money, the fame, the status, the lifestyle, the love and the support didn’t matter.
He had been public about his struggles with depression, and battles with alcohol, before. He called out PGA Tour commissioner Jay Monahan in 2021 for what Murray felt like was a lack of help made available by the Tour.
Monahan, who flew from Florida to Fort Worth on Saturday after learning on Murray’s death, said he spoke with Murray at length about this subject, and the Tour put programs in place to help players.
After Murray won the Sony Open in January he said: “It just goes back to just my life is so good right now. I wouldn’t trade anything,” he said. “Everyone in my life right now who is close to me who has been through the struggles with me, it’s all a team effort. I’m not sitting here — I am sitting here alone, but all of them are part of this.
“I think this is just the start of something really special.”
When Murray withdrew from the Charles Schwab Challenge on Friday afternoon because he wasn’t feeling well, it didn’t register. He was just another Tour player whose tournament score card reads WD (withdrew). These happen every week.
He returned home to Florida.
For most people who knew Murray, that would be the last time they saw him.
This is how depression can work. In January, Murray was in a great place. It’s late May, and he’s gone.
Gone for reasons that only he knows, and his parents will seek for the rest of their lives and never get.
