There’s something that I have always loved about sports. I am competitive as hell and love growing from teammates to friends. Some love the roar of the crowds or the passion in the game, but these aren't my favorite part of why I love playing the game. I have played various sports throughout all ages of my life, but there is something I get in every sport whether it is in the water, on the field or on a court, and that is: quiet.
One of my favorite TV shows, "One Tree Hill," has given me more clarity on life decisions, strength and maturity than any show I’ve ever watched. The following quote from the show explains this quiet I’m talking about
"One Tree Hill" Season 8 Episode 16
Kellerman: To this day, my dad has only come to one game -- one. And I pitched right here on campus.
Nathan: I'm sorry, man. That's crazy.
Kellerman: It's okay, though. 'Cause this is the one place in the world that he can't get to me, right here on this mound. I guess he doesn't understand it. But you want to know a secret? Neither do I. And I don't want to know. I throw the ball, they swing, they miss. I don't want to know why or how. There's kind of a beauty in that, you know?
Nathan: Yeah, I do know.
Kellerman: Which part?
Nathan: All of it.
I miss water polo, tennis, basketball, and softball every day, but I don’t miss juggling sports, friends, family, and school. I miss competing and being a part of a team but I don’t miss the upsets from a loss or fighting with a teammate.
I miss the road trips when team bonding turned into great memories but I don’t miss the traveling. I miss seeing my dad be proud of me as both a coach and a dad but I don’t miss the fights we’d get into because he’d be too much coach and not enough dad. I miss being physically tired after a hard fought game, but I don’t miss the injuries that I continue to suffer from, even today.
That kind of back and forth conversation is one I have with myself more often than you think. I don’t like to say I’m retired, I just say it was time to stop competing. Not only was I mentally tired, but my body couldn't handle that type of pressure anymore. I know that I gave it my all despite the pain, and that’s all that anyone could ask of me.
No matter the injuries, the pressure to my body, or even juggling family and friends, I was invincible when I was playing my game. Any athlete knows the quiet that I’m talking about. It’s that feeling of having one responsibility in a single moment which was to play to the best to your ability, and I personally believe that it’s the best gift I ever have been given.
You do whatever you can to keep competing and to stay in the game, because you love the silence. Of course, there’s a crowd filled with family members or friends cheering you on, but it’s all white noise. You only hear your heart pounding and hope it doesn’t beat out of your chest while your inner voice is pushing you, telling you to keep battling. Even though your blood is rushing and you keep fighting exhaustion, you’re at peace. You are doing your one job and nothing can get to you while you’re out there. If you’re still playing the game, cherish that quietness. I know I did.
