"Whether it's striving for success or longing for significance, whether it's trying to create a better world or become a better person, there is a drive within us all. We are designed with a need to move forward. Without it our lives become only shadows of what they could have been. You can live without pursuing a dream, you can funtion without passion, but with each passing moment, your soul will become more and more anemic."
Wow.
This entry talks about the insatiable desire we are born with for greatness. We strive for greatness and to be the best, and only later learn to acquiesce to mediocrity or second, third, or fourth place. I remember trying out for the Texas Longhorns as a placekicker. They had a future NFL kicker on their team that year -- Raul Allegre. He wasn't at practice the day I had my final tryout (after a spring tryout where I rec'd instructions on what to improve on with an invitation to come back), but there were two other guys there that I felt like I could compete with and possibly beat out. My tryout day was a disaster, though. I unwisely chose to wear these astro-turf shoes that I was enthralled with. The university had decked me out with all the necessary equipment -- helmet, pads, pants, practice jersey, etc. But it was those dang shoes that were the end of me. Even at the end of practice, when then coach Fred Akers had the kickoff team practicing and the second string kicker kept placing the ball in the wrong place (coach wanted it in the right corner), he yelled, "Bring me someone that can kick!" As insignificant as I felt I was -- one of 100+ players probably -- I am pretty sure he knew I was there, since I had talked to him a couple days before to get the final clearance to play in spite of my fairly low grades. Even though this was my chance to redeem myself that day (and it might have even been possible, since the kickoff process used a tee that held the ball a couple inches off the turf), I chose to hang my head as the third string guy trotted over there and placed the ball right where the coach wanted. It might have been the fear of performing in front of the entire team -- because for one brief moment, the person kicking the ball was the center of attention. I was worried that my inability to get enough clearance underneath the ball that I'd been having all that day in practice would repeat itself again. I gave up that dream that day, which was confirmed the next day when I came into the locker room and found my locker empty -- the only thing hanging in there being my trusty soccer cleats that I should've used. I pretty much massage myself with the realization that the very next year an All American kicker named Jeff Ward walked on the next year and started, I think, the next four years or so. I probably never would have played a down, but I'll never really know now.
Another good thing that comes from that shortcoming, though, is the drive I now have to not repeat that sort of defeat again.
McManus says:
"When we stop dreaming, we start dying."
P.S. I'm sorry for telling this story again.
P.S.S. I'm sorry for telling this story again.
P.S.S.S. I'm sorry for telling this story again.