It was scary to see something that I had been doing for so long be suddenly over."

* * *

"I didn't pick up a ball for weeks after because I knew I no longer needed to."

* * *

"I went through a phase of about four months where I didn't know how to eat because I was no longer training and didn't need the extra calories for energy."

Such statements aren't merely confessions. They are symptoms of a common ailment that affects thousands of NCAA student-athletes each year: "post-athlete syndrome."

This condition can cause weeks of moping around. It produces general malaise followed by panic and uncertainty. Though unofficial in title, post-athlete syndrome is all too real to those who are stricken.

The affliction manifests itself in subtle ways. Lacing up your sneakers no longer holds the same meaning because you realize that no one is waiting for you to join the huddle for the pregame pep talk. In the year or so after you've finished your eligibility, it's that deflated feeling when you see that your name has been dropped from the team roster. It strikes again when you see your name filed back in the "past varsity letter-winners" section of the media guide. Additional triggers for an onset of this syndrome:

* A search of your name on the team Web site produces no results.

* Your supply of school-issued T-shirts, shorts and sneakers is running low and can't be replenished.

* Your coach has moved on to a different school and the younger players on the team don't recognize you.

The most damning evidence you are afflicted is when you still sign your name with your jersey number included. You are a victim if you continue to answer the question of "What sport did you play?" with "I play X sport for Y university."

Perhaps the toughest part is becoming a spectator when just a year earlier, you were being spectated. You're cheering for them and no one is cheering for you.

"I felt so bad going to the games (the year after) because I wasn't in them," said Troy Kema, now an academic advisor at Utah State University.

Kema said that in the first few years after leaving the football team, he separated himself from the university and the athletics program. He no longer felt he belonged at the athletics department, so he broke away and "let someone else take the reins."

Amy Crosbie, former Utah State volleyball player, had to fight back tears almost every time someone mentioned volleyball to her. She actually lamented the fact she was not participating in three-a-day preseason training when she returned to school in August. Though she hasn't shunned the team, she said it hurts to sit idle and observe.

"I despise going to games," she said. "I hate watching. I almost miss the life. I miss the practices."

She misses the practices and preseason three-a-days? Crosbie had it bad.

The cause

While not life-threatening, career termination is certainly life-altering. Daily practice and regimented schedules cease overnight, and many former student-athletes are left with abundant time, and often, a great sense of loss.

"I had been playing since I was 11," Crosbie said. "Being a student-athlete had been my connection to this university and the community. Part of my identity and my self- esteem had to do with playing volleyball."

Joe Cross, a former University of Illinois, Champaign, basketball player said, "It's like a separation. You have this game of basketball all these years, and then when it's over, there's anxiety and the question of 'what now?' "

In preparing for the end of their athletics careers, student-athletes can choose two avenues. They either can prepare well in advance or they can start to cope when the last play of their last game ends. The latter can be brutal.

"The biggest shocker was senior night -- that last game -- the tears came right after," Crosbie said. "All I could think about was 'what's next?' I wasn't really working toward anything else, besides a degree."

Cross said that he was lucky enough to realize early on that his on-court accomplishments weren't an end-all to the rest of his life. "Even though I had always believed I could make it to the next level, I also knew basketball would not last forever and someday I would have to be Joe Cross," he said.

The fact that he was married during his senior year helped him look at his career choices in terms of what was best for his family and not just himself. Cross took an active role in community service and made a point to "talk with professors and network to see what avenues were available." His efforts landed him a graduate assistantship at the Southern Illinois University at Carbondale.

He had witnessed some of his fellow athletes struggle with the end of their careers. With little else to take part in or fall back on, Cross said "they were walking around like chickens with their heads cut off."

The analogy is familiar to Ed Etzel, psychologist and director of CHAMPS/Life Skills at West Virginia University. He has been involved with the athletics program there since 1976. "Most athletes adjust quite well (to the end of their collegiate athletics)," he said. "But some suffer disengagement -- the transition is dramatic.

"It's 'goodbye' to a lot of people you've developed powerful relationships with. It's a loss of predictability and structure."

Structure plays an integral role in the athletics experience. The travel schedule, practice and playing commitments and team responsibilities mold the student-athlete's playing years into a routine.

"People have a strong athletics identity," Etzel said. "The difficulty in handling the end of their careers is understandable because of the time they've spent playing their sport. When you ask them who they are they'll say, 'I'm a running back' or 'I'm a volleyball player.' "

For student-athletes who never took the time to develop other interests, the lack of balance in their lives can result in a difficult and confusing time. "It becomes a matter of 'Who are you when you stop being who you thought you were?' " Etzel said. "They have a limited sense of Plan B."

Traci Statler, Winthrop University's director of CHAMPS/Life Skills, has worked at athletics departments both large and small. She noted a correlation between the size of the sport and the potential for post-career trouble. "The bigger the sport, you tend to see more of a reluctance to move on," she said. "They cling to the idea 'I'm going to be the one to make it.' "

They also mourn the loss of their localized fame. All too soon, no one recognizes them or knows their athletics accomplishments.

The cure

Statler said she also notices many soon-to-be seniors appearing in the student-athlete academics wing of the athletics department. They start looking into the programs and services available to them.

"They'll start to seek help from people who are in place to help them," she said. "They may have never stopped by before."

During the transition period, Etzel said the student-athlete must concentrate on identifying transferable life skills. Often, life skills coordinators assist student-athletes in evaluating the skills and strengths they have. They show the athletes how to translate them into viable career options.

In addition to presenting student-athletes with the message that life does go on after athletics, some schools have developed programs that present the reality in a relevant and meaningful way. The University of Utah has developed a "Career and Life Planning" class that helps student-athletes prepare for the future. Former Utah athletes let them know what to expect.

Mary Bowman, Utah's director of CHAMPS/Life Skills, organized the class intending to help student-athletes make the next transition.

"A lot of times, they were unprepared," she said. " When they were seniors, they'd call and say 'I need to put together a résumé.' We needed a plan."

Manny Hendrix, director of athletics relations at Utah, teaches the class, along with counselor Brian Riedesel. The one-credit course is mandatory for senior student-athletes. Enrollment is expected to increase from 12 to 15 student-athletes to about 25 next semester. The book "Career Game Plan for the Student-Athlete" by Jennifer Bohac is required reading. Most of the classwork involves writing reaction papers to the various topics presented each week. Those topics include résumé writing, mock interviews with local companies and learning how to network.

"The student-athletes welcome the challenge," Hendrix said. "A lot of them are a little stunned, a little startled. I think they always knew in the back of their minds that some day they would have to think about a job, but when it's in front of them, it becomes a reality check."

Riedesel and Hendrix help the students identify what they want to do professionally and how they can go about achieving their goals. Often it's a matter of reminding the students of what fields interest them the most. But the strongest lessons come from the recently graduated student-athletes. The returnees share their experiences and talk about how expectations can be far different from reality.

"They tell them to enjoy it while they can," Hendrix said. "They talk about the work life and the lack of camaraderie that they were so used to. People aren't around to encourage you all the time."

Tiana Fuertes graduated from Utah in spring 2001 and took the class the first year it was offered. Fuertes was making the transition from basketball player to student and, hopefully, career professional. With all of the time she had dedicated to basketball, she had not constructed a plan for getting a job.

"The class was awesome," she said. "A lot of us had never had jobs before and we didn't know where to start. The best part was the résumé writing and finding out information on Utah alumni who like to hire Utah athletes."

Through the mock interviews, she said she gained valuable experience and a better sense of what to expect.

Signs of recovery

Not every former college athlete longs for the days of early morning workouts and late-night bus trips.

Judy Culhane, an assistant volleyball coach at Duke University who competed at Colgate University, was one of those people. "I felt like I accomplished what I wanted," she said. "Four years was enough time. I was ready to move on."

She spent almost a year in Europe playing with a club team where the structure was more relaxed. Her post-playing days now are spent working out on her own, when and how she feels like it.

Kim Ford, professional development coordinator at the NCAA and former Baylor University track athlete, joined a sorority and tutored student-athletes while finishing her degree. "It had been four years of 3 p.m. practices every day," she said. "I was ready to do new things, but I was excited to pass the torch to someone else."

Looking ahead usually means leaving certain good habits behind. Enjoying the newfound freedom of life after college athletics often means joining new groups or re-igniting old passions such as junk food, sleeping in and other self-indulgences. Some steer clear of the weight room altogether. They view it as a time to recover and relax. If they're not careful, though, the pendulum can swing the other way. Suddenly they might find themselves mourning the loss of their previously sculpted physiques. Their high energy levels may disappear.

"I see people who say 'I can't wait until the time I don't have to get up for 6 a.m. workouts,' " Statler said. "I see the rebellion. Then, it slides back to people going back to those routines to maintain continuity."

Many find their way back to the athletics arena, whether it is as a coach, a recreational athlete/weekend warrior or an athletics department employee. Those who remain connected say it helps preserve the years of memories and excitement of competition.

In an effort to re-invent herself, Crosbie said she has taken up running -- an activity she used to dread -- and has considered running marathons. She said she would like to coach a high-school volleyball team in the future. That means that one day, she might recapture the unexplainable joy of three-a-days, but from the other side.

That "other side" is what all student-athletes must face eventually. More and more of them are anticipating the end of their careers and are not lost when they get there.

"Career termination has this negative connotation," Statler said. "It isn't always a negative thing. People can get real excited about the next chapter of their lives."