Martin Short: 76 Years Old, 5 Major Losses, Never in Therapy – and the Lesson for Vietnamese Sports

At the age of 76, actor Martin Short has just attracted attention not with a new role, but with a deeply personal story about how he faces grief. In an interview with IndieWire, shortly after the death of his daughter Katherine – who took her own life in February 2026 – he said bluntly: "I have never been to therapy. I don't feel I need it." That statement divided public opinion into two camps. One side argued that he was promoting an outdated machismo and denying the value of modern psychology. The other side – mostly those of his generation – nodded in agreement: grief that we live with long enough becomes part of us, and therapy is only for those who truly need it. But few noticed a more important detail: Martin Short has never denied the benefits of therapy in general. He only said that, for him personally, he doesn't need it. And he described how he copes: cycling in quiet countryside, painting, writing, and most importantly – he speaks of friends and family as a fortress. Among them, his friendship with Meryl Streep – a close acting partner for decades – is mentioned with profound gratitude. Martin Short's story is not just for the entertainment world. If viewed through the lens of sports, especially Vietnamese sports, we see thousands of athletes living in exactly the same paradox. For decades, Vietnamese sports had no psychology department. Young athletes were trained in a steel-discipline environment where they were taught that "weakness is failure." They grew up with phrases such as: "Just train, train more, don't overthink," or "Injury is normal, endure it." The way the older generation of coaches passed on their fire to students, in the end, resembles how Martin Short heals himself: not denying pain, but also not letting it hinder work. Look at Vietnam's U23 football team in Changzhou in 2026. Before that tournament – considered a historic miracle – a Korean sports psychologist worked with the team. Many saw him as the secret behind the historic penalty shootout victories over Iraq and Qatar. And yes, afterwards came the triumph and millions of bursting hearts. But what few ask is: without that psychologist, could this generation of young players have done it? Perhaps not. But perhaps yes. In a recent survey compiled on VangBong.vn, more than 60% of Vietnamese professional athletes admitted they had never worked with any psychologist during their careers. They learned to handle pressure through each match, through teammates' guidance, through family encouragement. Some succeeded; some collapsed halfway. And when they collapsed, the public called it "lack of mental strength." Here an injustice emerges: if a player injures his knee, the whole country sympathizes. But if a player suffers a mental injury, people find only the words "mental strength" to condemn him. The stigma around psychological factors remains deeply embedded in every level of Vietnamese football, from the changing room to the stands. Martin Short's story – in this regard – is like a mirror: if a 76-year-old actor can publicly say "I don't need therapy" in an era when mental health is ascendant, then why can't a Vietnamese player say "I need a psychologist" without being mocked? What Martin Short is doing is not exactly resisting therapy; what he is doing is asserting his right to choose his own way of healing. He lost his brother at age 12, both parents before age 16, his wife in 2026, and most recently his daughter earlier this year. Five major losses spanning more than 60 years, yet he still stands. He said: "Sadness is natural; I don't consider it a disease." That statement sounds like a direct rebuttal to the trend of "psychologizing" everything, which is sweeping social media. For sports, the lesson lies in subtlety. Every player is a different individual. Some need a psychologist sitting beside them, untangling every knot. Some only need a sweat-soaked training session, a thrilling match, an armband draped on their arm. Imposing a single model on a collective creates consequences no data table can measure: disconnection, artificiality, and the feeling of being abandoned in a crowd. Today, Vietnamese national teams are beginning to include sports psychologists in their coaching staff. This is a commendable step forward. But that step only truly matters when it goes hand in hand with respect for athletes who do not choose therapy. A team needs both: a psychologist for those who need one, and an environment safe and humane enough for those who wish to heal in their own way. Martin Short, at 76, still goes to work every day, still jokes on the set of Only Murders in the Building, still maintains deep relationships with friends, and has never once sat on a therapist's couch. He resembles a veteran marathon runner who needs no coach's reminder, because he himself best understands his own breathing. It may not be the right way for everyone, but it is the right way for him. Public judgment, like a referee in a match, is not always fair. But unlike a referee, we have no right to blow the whistle on someone else's life. Everyone has their own way of getting up after a fall. And what Vietnamese sports need to learn is not to imitate Martin Short – but to respect each person's right to choose how to heal.