By: Lindsey Young
Editorial Warning: While we believe these conversations are important, we also acknowledge this content does include difficult themes and topics, including suicide, throughout the story.
We feel it's important to bring this to your attention so you as a reader and listener understand the content we're delving into and proceed at your discretion.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-TALK (8255)
Crisis Text Line: Text "HELLO" to 741741
Myles Price and Keith Miller III were inseparable.
Not blood-related, but they may as well have been. The types of friends — brothers, really — where you wouldn't be surprised should their hearts beat in sync.
Myles and Keith (who even called each other "Twin") spent every day of their four years at The Colony High School together, whether in football practice, playing a game under the lights or hanging out at one of their houses after school.
"My mom was his mom, and his mom is my mom," Myles said recently, offering his signature grin. "We did everything together. When I say he was literally like my right hand — there's nothing we didn't do together."
They even played the same position, each starring at receiver for The Colony Cougars before starting their college careers at Texas Tech (Myles) and Colorado (Keith), then respectively transferring to Indiana and Texas A&M University-Commerce.
They communicated daily via text or phone call.
Myles never anticipated that April 11, 2024, would be the final time he'd speak to his best friend.
He and Keith joined another friend online to play Call of Duty, laughing and joking throughout the game as they usually did.
"Keith goes, 'All right, I'm finna get off and eat right quick. I'll be back on; give me, like, 15 minutes,' " Myles recalled.
Less than 10 minutes later, an unknown number started repeatedly calling Myles, who answered after the first handful of attempts.
On the other end, screaming.
Still unsure of the situation and assuming it may have been a prank call or misdial, Myles hung up.
The same number called back, this time a woman telling Myles through tears that Keith had died.
"I said, 'First off, you're playing. I was just on the game with him,' " explained Myles, who added that he then called Mikey, he and Keith's other best friend, and Keith's mother.
The news was true. After a lengthy battle with depression and mental health struggles, Keith had taken his own life.
Myles' world shattered.
He sat outside and walked around aimlessly, calling his mom, dad and brother Eric, attempting to process what had just happened. Indiana Strength Coach Derek Owings came to Myles' house and sat with him for an hour to offer support as questions swirled chaotically through the young receiver's mind.
How? Why? How could I have not known? What could I have done?
"It was like this emotional roller coaster," Myles said. "That day was terrible."
Through thick & thin
Myles and Keith first met each other in the second grade, when the Price family moved to Irving, Texas, and Myles started at Tom Landry Elementary School.
"One of the first things he said to me? 'I'm faster than you,' " Myles laughed. "He was just a competitor, always."
Soon after their initial meeting, however, Keith's family moved to The Colony — and the boys wouldn't cross paths again until they (initially unbeknownst to them) reunited in ninth grade.
"We're talking, and I'm like, 'Man, Keith, that name sounds familiar. You look like this dude I went to elementary school with in Irving,' " Myles recounted. "He goes, 'Where? Tom Landry? Wait … you're that Myles!' It was such a surreal moment running into him again.
"We've been best friends ever since," Myles added.
Keith was always the life of the party. A jokester.
"You could never take him seriously, because nine times out of 10, he'd probably be lyin'," Myles laughed. "But also, he was always on top of everything school-wise. His mom, Mama Keisha, she'd be on top of him about dates coming up, tests, everything. My mom would ask me and I'd say, 'I don't know,' so she'd ask Keith."
On the football field, Keith still believed he could beat Myles in a race.
Not a chance, Myles says.
"But he'd always say, 'Man, I'm gonna catch a slant, take it to the crib.'
'No you can't.'
'Yes, I can.'
"That was Keith," Myles smiled. "That's how he always was."
Life wasn't all laughing and joking, though. As the boys grew older, Keith began experiencing bouts of depression and would isolate himself from friends and family. He occasionally talked about hurting himself or committing suicide, upon which Myles would stop whatever he was doing and go spend time with him.
Sometimes, Keisha would call Myles and ask, "Can you try to see what's wrong with Keith?"
Two weeks before Keith passed, Myles got one of those calls.
"Can you reach out to Keith? Something's not right with him. He's having another episode."
"So of course I called him," Myles said. "He tells me, 'I'm good, bro. It's nothing. I'm fine.' I'm like, 'Bro, are you sure? If you say you're good, I'm not gonna keep hammering you on it, but I want to make sure you're good.' "
Keith insisted all was well.
You're not alone
Growing up, Myles heard conversations around mental health and understood the topic was important, but he often couldn't fathom the idea of someone struggling so deeply they'd end their life.
He acknowledges he "kind of brushed it off" when he was younger, not taking it seriously until he started witnessing Keith's internal conflict.
And since Keith's death, Myles carries an authentic passion for raising awareness around mental illness and helping others realize they are not alone.
It's OK to not be OK.
Myles appreciates the increased communication around mental health and especially the Vikings efforts to make sure their players, coaches and staff have support and resources in place should they need them.
He simultaneously recognizes a continued stigma around the topic, especially when it comes to pro athletes.
"I still hear it to this day. I'll be having a conversation about it and somebody will bring up, 'Man, look at your life. You're in the NFL,' " Myles said. "Well, yeah, but there's a lot more that comes with NFL life, and I have a lot to deal with on top of football. … There's so much that plays into my mental health and being in a clear mental space."
He knows the same is true for everyone: You never know what someone might be going through.
Myles and his Vikings teammates experienced that in February when receiver Rondale Moore was found at his Indiana home.
"You could be sitting up here with a smile all day and then go home and feel like you're at the bottom of the world," Myles said. "So my thing is, anytime somebody's giving me that vibe that something's off, I try to say something. 'Are you good? You're not acting like yourself. Is everything OK?' And if you say it's OK, I'm gonna ask you one more time: 'You sure?' And I'm going to let you know if there's anything you need to talk about, I can be all ears. I'm willing to be there.
"If you need to come to my house at 2 in the morning because something's going on, you can do that," Myles said. "Because my best friend can't do that anymore. I lost my best friend. My heart. My brother.
"It just hits so hard," he added. "We keep seeing things about suicide. We just lost Rondale. You never know what's going on with someone."
Myles is grateful for a well-connected Vikings locker room that has built true camaraderie and genuine relationships that extend beyond the gridiron.
"Smiles, laughs, hard times, we all interact with each other in a really healthy way," he said. "I know if I was going through things, I know there are [multiple] people in the locker room I can go to and have that real conversation."
Whether adding Keith's initials to his eye black on game day, continuing to bring his name up in everyday conversation or checking in on friends and teammates, Myles is intentional about living life for his brother.
He chose to be part of the "Getting Open" series because he believes in carrying on Keith's legacy and telling his story to help others.
"Whoever it is, whoever needs to hear the message, 'You don't have to go through things alone.' At some point, we all have to be vulnerable," Myles said. "If you're not, that's when things ball up; and at some point, it's going to explode. It's much better to reach out and use your resources, your friends, whomever you trust.
"Every day won't be glamourous. That's not how life is. Me being in the NFL and having this platform," Myles continued. "Somebody will stand with you. I'll stand with you. I might not know you from a can of paint, but I'll stand by your side and fight with you through whatever it is you're going through.
"Because I know what it feels like," he added. "I know what it looks like. And I want you to know you're not alone."
