We don’t always make the cut.
There’s something we forget as a fast-paced society with instant gratification. Sometimes it’s worth pushing hard even if the outcome isn’t what you were trying to accomplish.
If you talk to a winner in any field, they will tell you one story after another of how they trained. They will tell you about the sacrifices, the times they wanted to give up, and yes, the wins.
When I was in 7th grade, I wanted to be a basketball player. I had not always wanted to be a basketball player. I had not spent hours upon hours dreaming of being a basketball player.
I had tried out for cheerleader in the 6th grade. I didn’t make the team. I had wanted to be a cheerleader for a long time. I had been one in first grade. I only got to cheer in one game all year because of snow, but I’ll have you know it is still one of my most incredible memories of all time.
So when the leaves started to turn that fall, I got the bug, the desire to play basketball. I had been playing some during the summer. My grandmother bought me a basketball for Christmas in 6th grade. That summer, someone gave us a donated old electric pole, and my dad installed a hoop. There we had a basketball goal.
I was an only child, so all I had been doing was dribbling and shooting. Over and over again. I didn’t have anyone to compete with or to show me how to guard, block, or any strategy at all.
That year we had P.E., and I had the opportunity to play basketball inside with the other kids at school. Girls were divided into teams on one end and boys in a different game on the other end. It was rough. It was especially rough for me as I was used to playing alone in my driveway. I really started getting better. I could tell I hit the goal more often.
My next-door neighbor worked at school. She stopped me at school one day to tell me she noticed how I was improving. She was probably the only person who saw me in the driveway every night.
So I signed up to try out for the team. I don’t remember a lot about tryouts. I remember sweating. I had never sweat like that. I was trying hard; I was pushing. It must have lasted two or three nights. I remember leaving the night I was cut. I was heartbroken. I had enjoyed the sweating and the thought of being part of the team.
That year I went to all the games with my best friend. She hadn’t tried out but loved being a fan. She taught me to be a fan. We were surely fans. We would come home from games with no voice from all our hollering. The girl’s team had a great year and won the county elementary championship that year.
I enjoyed the entire season, but of course, I would have loved being part of the team.
But I’m glad I didn’t make the team, obviously wouldn’t have gotten a lot of playing time. I might have thought trying wasn’t worth it if you didn’t get in the action. Who knows? I can’t tell you from that perspective. But, I learned to sweat, and to lose, and to find another way to win.
That’s why it’s worth it to push and to lose. It makes you stronger. It shows you different perspectives on the same story.
Movies aren’t written about not making the team. But that’s real life. We push, we learn, and we grow. Whether we make the team, win the game, or get the sell, it’s how we move on to the next challenge that defines us. The best part is that we get to write our story. Win or lose. We don’t have to have a movie-worthy experience to create a happy ending.
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