R.I.P. Tyler Stash Age 27

[XenoMorph]

http://profootballtalk.nbcsports.com/2015/09/08/reports-former-giants-safety-tyler-sash-dies-at-27/

This is pretty sad... im sure more info is coming. anyone even know who this kid was? i dont remember his name

[CJD]

You can't RIP someone then misspell their name...

[*rfaulk34*]

Name sounds familiar. Seems as though he was part of some show like the SB rings show or Hard Knocks type of thing.

[BURROWorBUST]

I think I remember him for the Mock boards a couple of years back. Played at Iowa, I think.

[J24]

He was a nickel safety guy for the giants. Pretty good player at Iowa as well had a 100 yard interception return for a TD.

[BengalHawk62]

Tyler Sash

Yes, he played at Iowa. Small town athletic kid that made his football dream come true. Led the Hawkeye defense to the Orange Bowl win over Ga Tech and then played on a Super Bowl winning Giants team. A pretty sad day for all Hawkeye fans. I rember watching him play like it was yesterday. Wish we still had #9 playing in our backfield.
After he was finished with football, he started doing charity work back in his hometown. Helping out folks who needed it. Kids with cancer, etc.
Just can't figure out why he did what he did. Sounded like he had his life back in order recently. The first thing I thought of was another case of concussion issues? I know he had at least one in college. Don't know how many he had in the NFL. ????

[BengalHawk62]

The following is written by Jeff Woody. A former RB from Iowa State. Very well written and pretty much sums up the feelings here in Iowa right now.


Tyler Sash; Son, Hawkeye, Athlete.

Tuesday afternoon, I received a text message on my phone from a former teammate of mine. "Bro, Tyler Sash passed away." My immediate response was to call him a liar. He backed it up with dark, unsettling facts, confirming the depressing truth. I worked with Tyler last fall on the CyHawk Rewind  TV show on Channel 5 in Des Moines. When I first met him, He seemed nervous and jittery. I assumed it was  due to his being on live television for the first time, which truthfully is a nerve-wracking experience. He seemed to loosen up when we got to trash-talking about the 'Clones and Hawks, which were to play the following week. He had a tremendous light about him when he got to talk about his Hawkeyes, Giants, or any stories from his playing days.

And now he is dead.

This is a cold, harsh, gut-punching reality. We don't know what may have lead him to his end, what motive, accident, or ordeal may have caused it. We don't know why he was where he was, and we clearly didn't know what was going on inside his head. I have a good idea as to what was going on in his soul though, and I was guilty of stoking the flame. I have felt what he felt too, and I had to deal with it the way I knew how.

Football is a great game. It is the ultimate team sport. In soccer, if your left midfielder isn't as good as the rest of your team, you simply shade the defense over him and phase him out of the offense. If a right fielder in baseball isn't an adequate hitter, you just assume him to be a liability in the lineup an bury him in the 8th slot. But it football, if your mike linebacker or left guard are inadequate, the opponent will seize that opportunity and exploit the mismatch. The game teaches you how to be tough, it teaches you how to lead, it teaches you to follow, it teaches you respect, fairness, compassion, empathy, togetherness, and citizenship, and it teaches you how to be a better human. It provides you an outlet for your aggressions, passions, discouragements, and elations. And it brings attention.

Attention is a two-bladed sword. With it, you can cut red tape and get where you want to be faster based on who you are. It also brings a huge amount of eyes on you and every little thing you do. You are under a proverbial microscope. You are not allowed to make mistakes.You are not allowed access to forgiveness that follows many people like a shadow. In a state like Iowa, this is especially true. We have no one else to watch, so the college kids are what we watch. And we tell them how good they are. And we tell them about how important they are. And we tell them about how much we love them. And we tell them how much they mean to the colors they wear and the state they represent. The only issue with that?

We aren't talking to them. We are talking to a persona of them.

I was taught about "role assignment" in a sociology class in college and dismissed it as something some hokey professor made up to sell a textbook. The more I have been around in the world, the more I have grasped its truth. A "role" is how a person defines who they are to society. There are assigned roles from society, like man, christian, muslim, Texan, or doctor. There are also roles in which we define ourselves like son, daughter, wife, or father. These things all have a defined set of expectations and behaviors that come with it. To determine this, ask yourself- "Who am I?" The first answer is likely who you are most. It's what you define yourself as. It's the one thing that you would hate to lose.

Husband, wife, daughter, bride, cousin, father, athlete.

It's postulated that this is why loss is so hard. If I identify myself as a son and my mother passes away, I am no longer able to be a son. The concrete cornerstone of my existence is gone. I now have a void that must be filled. If I identify myself as a father and lose a son, I no longer have a chunk of me that makes me, me. I don't know who I am. I don't know what to be, how to act, what to do, or how to think. I don't know what existence means, because I am now markedly less complete in my own eyes.

Athlete.

We praise kids for touchdowns, tackles, goals, passes, hits, strikeouts, and baskets. We abhor failure and take to the airwaves to voice our displeasures over how these positive expectations are unmet. We tweet at, text at, call out, and bark at our favorite players because they are doing well on the field. We tweet at, text at, call out, and bark at our favorite players because they aren't doing well on the field. We tell them what we want from them. On the field. We tell them what they should do. On the field. We tell them what they mean to us. On the field. We tell them how much they make us feel good about ourselves. On the field. We convince them that they are at their best on the field.

What we as athletes take note of is how important everyone else sees us when we are in that role. That role then starts to take full shape within our minds. We start to think that we are valued most as an athlete. We are cared for most when we put on that uniform. We are exalted for what we do within the confines of those white boundaries. Slowly, we start to look at ourselves the same way. We are important. On the field. We are loved. On the field. We are cared for. On the field. We are valuable to society. On the field. We are athletes. We are what you say we are. That is me. I am an athlete.

Until I'm not.

I am an athlete until my legs no longer run fast anymore. I am an athlete until my eyes don't scan the field quick enough. I am an athlete until my strength isn't as strong as a new athlete. I am only an athlete as long as I can do what you want me to do. And my time as an athlete is short. And then my time as an athlete is gone.

You see, when the game is taken away and we can no longer be counted on to do all of the things we have been told we are valuable for, we are lost. We are no longer useful to society. That part of us is gone. If I identify myself as athlete and the sport is taken away from me, I am no longer me. I am no longer worthy to be myself. I have a hole where I used to be. I fought this every day. I knew the end I would eventually meet in this game, so I never let that be the cornerstone to me.

While I was developing into who Jeff Woody was supposed to be, I credit my life to my now wife, Hannah. She would always be the needle to my ego balloon. She was the thorn to my pride rose. She was the brakes to my barreling train. I never was allowed to be "Jeff Woody; athlete." I was always encouraged to be "Jeff Woody; teammate, fiance, friend, student, athlete." She knew what I could be, and she knew what I was worth, and it was far more than any grassy field could make me. And I love her beyond measure because of it.

But some men aren't so lucky to have a Hannah in their lives. Some men only are told they are valuable in pads or behind a microphone. Some men build their existence on who they are told by millions that they ought to be. And some men then have the floor ripped out from underneath them.

I did not know Tyler Sash well. I interacted with him on only a handful of occasions. I only got to know him at the TV station or at the football stadium where we broadcasted from. I saw enough to know that his eyes encased a bright spark when he got to talk about his Hawkeyes or his Giants. His eyes came alive when he was able to identify himself as an athlete. His eyes lit up when he got to be who he was praised to be; a persona of himself that we have pressed upon him to be.

We all share burden in this social makeup. We talk to athletes as superheroes regarding what they do on the field. We talk about them as heels when they don't do what we want them to do. While playing, we are told we are valuable to you only as an athlete; but we are much more than that. We are ambitious young men going into criminal justice so they can straighten kids from the ghettos out before something horrible becomes of them. We are engineers who have a passion for solving problems to improve people's lives. We are musicians, painters, writers, singers, aspiring doctors, farmers, businessmen, or teachers. We are more than what you think, yet some of us may not understand who we really are quite yet.

I was lucky. I was told what I'm worth. I just wish I was able to talk to Tyler now to tell him what he was as Tyler, but no one ever will. My plea is that in the next encounter with an athlete of any level, ask them about their sport, sure, but ask them about what makes them, them. The next time you think about calling a quarterback a "stupid son-of-a-*****" because he displeased you with a bad pass, remember what you are telling them.

The next time you get the chance to talk to anyone, make sure you tell them how much you appreciate them and all that they are.

Athlete, son, friend, Hawkeye, Super Bowl champion, shoe geek.

Rest in peace, Tyler Sash. Every piece of you.





Note.... I wrote this post with tears in my eyes at 12:30 in the morning. This event hurts my heart. I said things about Tyler and his personality to close friends of mine that were unflattering of him when he was alive, and some were downright mean. I didn't know him well enough. I made hasty generalizations about who he was based on what I interacted with him. I didn't try hard to get to know him. I didn't get to know different parts of him. And I regret that more than I can explain right now.

I am making it my vow, out of respect to Tyler, to never stop trying to get to know someone beyond the first layer of themselves. I owe it to him, and I owe it to all of you.

***If you know anyone who is feeling depressed, anxious, or dealing with substance problems- talk to them. Put your pride down about offending them. Love them. Care for them. Take an interest in them and who they are. Be there for them.

***If you, yourself are feeling depressed, anxious, or suicidal, please talk to someone. You are loved and you are cared for. You're worth much more than you think you are. If you don't feel comfortable talking to any friends or family about it, call someone.

Foundation 2 Crisis Center provides trained, compassionate telephone counselors 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. You can reach a crisis counselor by calling (319) 362-2174 in the Cedar Rapids local calling area or 1-800-332-4224 anywhere else in Iowa.