Screen Shot 2013-10-04 at 11.40.56 AMStrange turn in the career arc of Royce White today.

White, who has an anxiety disorder and hates flying, didn’t make the trip with the Sixers to Spain, where the team is playing some exhibition games.

Bob Cooney reports, though I wish it were Kate Fagan:

Just six days ago, Keith Pompeyeyey of the Inquirer, who will read pretty much anything that’s on the teleprompter of life, wrote that White was doing well with overcoming the perception that he has a fear of flying:

New 76er Royce White wants to dispel any speculation that air travel will hinder him from playing for the team this season.

The 6-foot-8 forward, who has an anxiety disorder, said Friday he planned on flying with the team to Europe next week for exhibition games in Bilbao, Spain, and Manchester, England.

“I think the most glaring [misconception], probably, from paying attention to the public opinions has to be that I can’t fly,” White said. “(A) that I don’t want to fly. And (B) that I won’t fly by choice.”

However, it was widely believed that White’s perceived fear of flying contributed to his failure to play in the NBA last season.

Probably not the best move for a guy with a fear of flying to sign with a team that’s kicking things off in SPAIN.

Anyway, I can sympathize with White. I hate flying. I’m rational about most things in life, but I am on high-alert from about the time I leave for the airport until the plane is nearing its cruising altitude (I really don’t like taking off). My heart rate and breathing increase. I lose my appetite. And focusing, on anything other than does this look like a well-maintained plane retrofitted with winglets and being flown by experienced pilots?, is difficult.

I once left a job because it required too much travel. Granted, I was asked to take dangerous! regional flights to places like Columbia, South Carolina and Des Moines, Iowa to peddle pieces of metal to manufacturers and was being paid in airline peanuts… not flying on charter jets and making $1.7 million to play basketball (which would’ve made it much easer to rationalize the risk).

One time I got sick at Chicago’s O’Hare before walking out to the tarmac (are you fucking kidding me with that shit?) to get on connecting flight, at night, in the snow, to Iowa. My boss found out about my illness when he arrived in Des Moines.

And another time I spent about two hours contemplating the risk-reward of quitting that job while waiting for a flight to Europe. I got on the plane assuming it was probably the end. It wasn’t, but it was the last flight I took for that company.

Ever since then I’ve taken Xanax before flying. It works wonders. I’m at the point where I actually look forward to trips. Sure, I might get a little antsy on the way to the airport, but I pop a Xany after I get through security and I’m good to go. They don’t fuck you up either. They just make you think more realistically. I’d highly recommend them if you don’t like flying, or if you just want every day to feel like a stroll through the meadow of life with a cool breeze brushing your nape (I’m kidding– don’t do drugs, kids).

But I’m assuming that White, who had a mental health facility opened in his name earlier this year, has already tried Xanax and other remedies. And it would appear that they’re not working.

Here’s White talking about his fear of flying.