To the Athlete Whose Hard Work Never Paid Off —
You've been told your entire life that if you tried hard enough, you could go anywhere. Be anything. If only you tried hard enough. If only you bled enough. If only you put in enough time. If only you sacrificed enough, you could go the distance.
So you did.
You practiced harder than anyone. You gave it your all. You gave your sweat and blood and tears to your sport. You followed the rules. You chased that dream--that promise that if you put in enough work, you'll be the best.
And yet, that's not what happened.
Every season brought about the most deadly thing possible. The thing that would cripple you faster than any blow and opponent could deal.
Hope.
Hope that you would get the nod. Hope that coach would see that something in you that the team desperately needed. Hope that you would finally jump those who had always stood in front of you; always taken your spot. Hope that you would get out of the shadow. That they would change their minds.
Hope that you would start to blossom into the best.
And yet, that's not what happened.
They'd look past you. Praise you for your hard work and tell you to keep it up.
And put you back on the bench. Back on JV.
Oh, sure, you're a great kid and they love having you on the team.
But you're not good enough to play.
You're not good enough to win the spotlight.
You win the personality contest. You're everybody's friend. You keep the team together and keep everyone's spirits up.
But you're not good enough to play.
So, you go back to working. You hit the grind and you hit it hard. You give it everything you have. You stay after practice and you do every tedious drill chasing that promise that you can be the best.
But you don't stay young forever.
That dream is time sensitive. And with every passing day, your dream seems more and more like a distant fantasy.
And then comes the day when you have to ask the question that breaks your heart.
The day when you realize you have nothing left to give and yet you aren't the best. The day you have to ask yourself if you want to keep working. If it's worth the heartache and the pain and constant blows to your confidence and self esteem.
The fairytale answer is 'hell yes!' The fairytale answer is to shut that question up and go back to the grind.
But reality is a different monster.
Because sometimes you body cannot do what your heart desires. Sometimes you've sacrificed everything you think you can. Sometimes you have nothing left to give.
You gave it your best. You gave the olympic effort. But you didn't get the olympic result.
But your efforts are not fruitless.
You got the drive. You got the push. You got the lessons and the grit and the desire to push through setbacks. You got the core to be told day in and day out 'you're not good enough' and show back up day after day.
People will notice how you didn't go all the way. How you tried and failed. The world will try to remind you that you failed.
But that's OK.
Failing is OK. It's part of life. It's how we learn and grow. You may not be standing on the podium at the Olympics, but you trained like you would be.
You might not have the gold medals or the state championship or the college scholarship, but you have the heart of a champion, and that will stay with you long after the last bruise fades.