What the 2026 U.S. Open incident teaches aspiring sport psychology professionals about self-regulation, continuity of care, and ethical obligations.
Wyndham Clark carried a six-shot lead into the final round of the 2026 U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills. By the time he lifted the trophy, that cushion had melted to a single stroke. Midway through the round, as hecklers were removed by police, Clark's sports psychologist Julie Elion left the course. She later told reporters, "It got to me. I had to go inside and talk to somebody."
The person hired to keep an athlete mentally steady had hit her own breaking point. This incident forces an uncomfortable look at what happens when a practitioner abandons an athlete during competition. Ethical codes speak of continuity of care, but a golf tournament's final round tests those principles in real time, with a major championship at stake. For practitioners who rely on unconventional PGA Tour techniques to steady their athletes, the pressure of being physically present on-course adds a layer of emotional demand that few training programs fully address.
On June 22, 2026, during the final round of the U.S. Open at Shinnecock Hills, a rare and unsettling moment in sports psychology unfolded in plain view. Wyndham Clark entered Sunday with a commanding six-shot lead but saw it shrink to a single stroke by day's end, amid a volatile atmosphere that included hecklers being removed by police. At a critical juncture, his sports psychologist, Julie Elion, left his side.
According to The Daily Caller, Elion later explained her decision: "It got to me. I had to go inside and talk to somebody." The admission was startling because it revealed a practitioner stepping away from a client precisely when emotional support was most needed. Clark ultimately held on to win, but the margin of victory underscored the fragility of his mental state.
It is important to note that this was not a case of permanent client abandonment. The International Business Times reported that Elion did return to the course later in the round. Still, a temporary absence during the heat of competition raises serious questions about practitioner readiness and the continuity of care. For athletes, even a brief gap in support can disrupt focus and erode trust.
This case offers a rare public window into a what sports psychologists do on the job and how they manage their own emotional regulation. Most ethical discussions center on client welfare, but Clark's experience highlights that practitioners, too, must cultivate the mental toughness they teach. When a professional is unable to stay present in a high-stakes environment, it forces the entire field to reflect on self-care, preparation, and the boundaries of the consulting role.
What separates a psychologist ethically stepping away from a case and one who abandons a client at a pivotal moment? In legal and ethical terms, client abandonment is the unilateral withdrawal of services when the client still needs care, without providing adequate notice, a transition plan, or referral to another qualified professional.1 It is not the same as a properly handled termination.
The American Psychological Association's Ethics Code Standard 10.10 on Termination of Therapy draws a clear line. Abandonment occurs when a practitioner ends treatment without the required pretermination counseling and effort to connect the client with alternative services,2 unless circumstances like a client's threatening behavior or third-party payor restrictions make those steps impossible.2 In contrast, an ethically justified termination happens when the client no longer requires services, is not benefiting, or is being harmed by continuing.2
Three conditions allow a psychologist to end the professional relationship without it being considered abandonment: the client's needs have been met, continued treatment would not benefit them, or the client is experiencing harm from the service itself.2 A fourth, permissive reason is when a client or other person has threatened or endangered the psychologist.2 Even then, the psychologist must still arrange for the client's immediate needs if possible.
The 2026 U.S. Open incident does not fit neatly into these categories. Reports indicate that Julie Elion left her athlete mid-round because the pressure got to her, then spoke to someone and returned to the course. That sequence is not a permanent termination; it is a temporary interruption during active service. The ethics code requires practitioners to make plans for client needs during both planned and unplanned absences,3 but it does not explicitly address a psychologist's own dysregulation during a live competition. Returning to support the athlete suggests this was a lapse, not abandonment, yet the momentary withdrawal of support at a critical performance moment raises serious continuity-of-care concerns. The unconventional sports psychology techniques used on the PGA Tour offer some context here, since on-course support in golf places practitioners in uniquely high-pressure environments that differ sharply from a scheduled therapy session.
Most ethics codes, including those from APA and AASP, were built around clinical therapy settings where sessions are scheduled and time is more flexible. They do not specifically anticipate the unique pressures of courtside or on-course support during an event that may last hours and hinge on minute-by-minute mental states. The Clark incident highlights a need for the field to develop guidance on practitioner self-regulation, real-time backup plans, and when a sports psychologist should step away temporarily without harming the athlete's trust.
For a sport psychologist facing a crisis during competition, the blueprints for action don't all read alike. Professional associations provide ethical guidelines, but the details and the disciplinary weight behind them vary. When a practitioner steps away mid-event, three major codes come into focus: the American Psychological Association (APA) Ethics Code, the sports psychology organizations that govern applied practice, and the International Society of Sport Psychology (ISSP) position stands.
At their foundation, all three documents demand that practitioners avoid harming clients and maintain professional competence. The APA code applies broadly to all psychologists, including those working in sport. It addresses when and how a psychologist may terminate services, emphasizing that discontinuation should not occur during a vulnerable moment unless unavoidable. The AASP code is tailored specifically to sport and performance contexts, often spelling out expectations for continuity of care in competitive settings. The ISSP offers internationally oriented guidelines that stress respect for the athlete's welfare and the integrity of the professional relationship.
None of the codes explicitly condone a psychologist leaving an athlete during an event without ensuring a safe transition. The APA's guidance on termination generally requires giving notice and offering referrals, except in rare emergencies. Personal distress, like the kind that led to Julie Elion briefly leaving the U.S. Open final, could be viewed through the lens of impairment: if a psychologist's own reactions risk compromising the client's care, the ethical duty may be to step back, but with the athlete's immediate safety in mind. Abrupt departure without communication or backup arguably conflicts with the spirit of all three codes. Practitioners who hold CMPC certification are also bound by AASP's ethics committee review process, which adds another layer of accountability.
Each body has mechanisms for addressing potential breaches. The APA receives complaints from members or the public and can impose sanctions ranging from reprimands to loss of membership. The AASP similarly has an ethics committee that reviews concerns, while ISSP provides ethical principles that member organizations are encouraged to adopt. For licensed psychologists, state boards also have jurisdiction. In any case, the process is reactive, not preventative. It cannot undo the moment a psychologist walks away, but it can set standards that shape future practice.
Sport psychologists are trained to teach athletes how to manage pressure, stay present, and regulate emotions during competition. Yet the Wyndham Clark incident at the 2026 U.S. Open reveals a less-discussed reality: practitioners themselves can become overwhelmed in the heat of a high-stakes event. When Julie Elion, Clark's sport psychologist, left mid-round and later explained, "It got to me. I had to go inside and talk to somebody," it spotlighted a critical gap in the field's preparation. Professionals who deliver mental toughness training must also build and maintain their own psychological readiness, especially in field settings where emotional contagion, vicarious stress, and countertransference can spike without warning.
Applied sport psychology exposes consultants to their clients' intense anxiety, frustration, and self-doubt. Research on compassion fatigue and vicarious stress in mental performance consultants shows that absorbing athletes' emotions over time can lead to burnout.1 A 2021 study in the Journal of Applied Sport Psychology found that sport psychology practitioners frequently experience emotional exhaustion when working with elite competitors, particularly during major tournaments.1 Countertransference, where the consultant unconsciously reacts to the athlete's emotions based on their own history, can further undermine objectivity and composure. In high-pressure moments, even seasoned professionals may find their own mental toughness in sports stretched thin.
Preparing for in-competition support requires deliberate practice, not just theoretical knowledge. Consultants can integrate several strategies into their own preparation:
Many sport psychology graduate programs excel at teaching intervention skills for clients but may underemphasize the practitioner's own performance psychology. Coursework often covers athlete burnout and mental skills, yet dedicated training on consultant self-regulation remains sparse. The Elion incident underscores the need for supervised field experiences that explicitly address the emotional demands of working live at competitions. By prioritizing their own mental toughness, sport psychologists not only protect their well-being but also uphold the ethical mandate to provide uninterrupted, high-quality care when athletes need it most.
Solo practitioners face a different planning challenge than psychologists embedded within a team's daily operations, but both roles demand a clear backup plan. Continuity of care in sport psychology means ensuring the athlete knows exactly who will step in and how the transition works before a crisis unfolds.
A single point of failure disappears when you designate a backup clinician before competition day. The athlete should meet this practitioner, even briefly, to establish minimal relational continuity. For a solo consultant, that might mean a trusted local colleague; for a team-embedded psychologist, it can be a fellow staff member who understands the athlete's history. The AASP Ethics Code requires practitioners to assist in identifying alternative providers to assure continuity when services are terminated or transferred.1 This obligation extends to short-term absences during tournaments.
A vague promise to "get help if needed" does not hold up under pressure. Effective protocols spell out the communication chain, the exact moment a handoff is triggered, and the backup's specific responsibilities. The plan should include local emergency contacts and a safety net for telehealth disruptions, addressing the AASP's recommendation for backup contact routes when technology fails.2 In cross-jurisdiction work, pre-arranging a locally licensed collaborator or referral option is essential to avoid gaps.
Informed consent documentation should go beyond confidentiality limits and session structure. It needs to capture how the athlete prefers to receive support in competition (e.g., brief between-matches check-ins, no contact until a specific signal, or a pre-agreed relaxation technique). Written information on whom to contact and how to reach them allows any backup to step in with a familiar style,3 protecting the athlete from feeling abandoned even when personnel change unexpectedly. For practitioners considering sports psychologist career transition, this kind of documentation discipline is a professional habit worth building from day one.
Psychologists must monitor their own cognitive and emotional readiness to continue. A practitioner self-assessment protocol can be as simple as a mental checklist: "Can I remain objective and present right now?" If the answer threatens the athlete's welfare, the backup plan activates seamlessly. Solo practitioners, in particular, need a pre-arranged signal or threshold that triggers a deliberate handoff rather than a sudden withdrawal.
A structured debrief after competition reviews what worked in the support plan and what needs adjustment. This practice maintains management continuity and gives the athlete a voice in refining protocols.3 Even when no disruption occurred, discussing the contingency setup reinforces trust and keeps the backup arrangement current for the next high-pressure event.
An athlete who leans on a sports psychologist enters a delicate pact: they hand over pieces of their mental preparation, trusting the professional to remain steady when everything else shakes. When that professional walks off mid-competition, the athlete is left holding more than just their game plan.
Elite athletes rely on carefully rehearsed pre-performance routines to manage arousal, focus attention, and block out distractions. A sports psychologist often helps design and reinforce those routines. If the psychologist disappears during a round, the athlete loses a familiar anchor. In Clark's case, the departure came during a high-stress final round at Shinnecock Hills, where he was already managing hecklers and a shrinking lead. His normal rhythm was interrupted at the worst possible time. Unconventional sports psychology techniques from PGA Tour professionals show just how finely tuned those pre-shot routines can be, making any disruption especially costly.
Beyond routines, an unexpected exit activates a cascade of off-task thoughts. The athlete must suddenly process confusion, betrayal, or worry about the professional, all while trying to execute shots. This extra cognitive load can degrade decision-making and motor performance. Clark's six-shot lead evaporated to a single stroke by the end, and while we cannot assign a single cause, the timing of the psychologist's absence coincides with a visible shift in his play. Understanding the psychology of winning and losing in sports helps explain why this kind of disruption can unravel even a commanding advantage.
Even when the psychologist returns, the trust may not be fully repaired during competition. The athlete might question their reliability, hesitating to engage in the usual mental strategies. Clark's psychologist did come back, but that moment of fragility had already been introduced. For the athlete, rebuilding trust in real time is nearly impossible, and performance can suffer as a result.
How can athletes avoid being left without psychological support in the middle of a high-stakes tournament? The Wyndham Clark incident at the 2026 U.S. Open isn't a reason to mistrust all sport psychologists, but it is a wake-up call to approach the hiring process with clear-eyed diligence. A few targeted steps can dramatically reduce the risk of disruption when it matters most.
A formal contract should spell out the scope of services, fees, and, crucially, a continuity clause. The clause defines the protocol if the psychologist cannot fulfill their duties mid-event, including a handoff procedure and the identity of a pre-vetted alternate. Understanding sport psychology certification standards can help athletes recognize what a properly credentialed backup practitioner should look like. This turns a worst-case scenario into a manageable contingency, giving you confidence that your mental game won't collapse if one person steps away. Most sport psychologists are dedicated professionals who would never abandon an athlete, but the Clark incident reminds us that preparation, not paranoia, is the athlete's smartest defense. Athletes who want to go deeper on how practitioners are trained can also explore sports psychology program coursework to understand what on-site practicum experience reputable programs require.
The sudden departure of a sport psychologist from a high-stakes event raises urgent questions about professional ethics. Below, we address common inquiries about what practitioners owe their athlete clients and what lines they must not cross.
The Wyndham Clark incident at the 2026 U.S. Open is not a tabloid footnote. It is a live case study revealing gaps in sport psychology's ethical codes, practitioner training, and athlete-practitioner agreements. The field's leading bodies must now develop sport-specific guidance for mid-competition conduct, and athletes should demand contractual contingency plans before the next tournament. For students considering a sport psychology career, the lesson is equally direct: the work demands the same psychological readiness you will ask of your clients. The lesson cuts both ways. Practitioners need their own mental toughness regimen, and athletes need a backup. Both sides share the burden of ensuring continuity of care when pressure peaks.
