I remember a certain player I coached once. I thought she was the epitome of the model child. I gave her glowing accolades in front of her parents one day however, and her head dropped. With that, so did my heart.
She was embarrassed. Not being used to being appreciated for her goodness by those closest to her, I had essentially peeled off a scab that covered a deep gash in her spirits.
Stunned, I could feel her pain as I looked into her eyes that begged, “Why did you do that, coach?”
I did it because I was proud of her drive for excellence. From her, I learned how to push forward.
Today, beyond accolades and criticism, I push. I am not my mother’s death. I am not my father’s neglegence. I am not my divorce. I am not someone else’s opinion. I am not, that which I am not. Rather, I am, because I am.
I push. Against the odds, against the grain, and against the mold, I push. Everyday, with every thought and every notion, I’m chasing something that seems so far out ahead of me, I cannot clearly make out what it is. But I want it. I can see it. I’m going to catch it, seize it and beat it.