It’s a thought you try to push to the back of your mind every time it attempts to float to the surface. A thought you wish to avoid until the moment actually arrives. But inevitably the time will come, when you unwillingly give up a major portion of your identity and take on a new one. Yup, that’s right, you are now a NARP.
N-A-R-P, a non-athletic regular person. A word located somewhere at the top of the “words not to say as an athlete” list.
Making the transition from athlete to “has been” is just as terrible as I previously imagined. They warn us about puberty and the dramatic transition your awkward teenage years will bring. But hey, at least puberty leaves you with a preferable outcome. The transition to NARP is more unattractive and unappealing than my middle school, acne prone, pre-pubescent, brace-face years.
In simple terms,a NARP = in a long-term relationship with your sport(s) and suffered an unfortunate, mascara-down-your-face kind of breakup. Your sport was your first true love. You gave your sport a few subtle hints to let them know you were interested and ready for commitment. Tossed a couple favorites around, liked a handful of Instagrams (ahh, modern-day romance.) But now you’re that girl emotionally tweeting and changing your relationship status to “it’s complicated.”
You started when you were little; dad was the coach or super-fan with the video camera. You moved on to middle school where your competitive edge kicked in because getting a spot on the A team was a top priority. Then onto your high school years of wearing your uniform to school on game day and eventually starting to realize your time is almost up. For some, their young love ended on their senior night. For others, including myself, senior night was just the beginning of a journey to collegiate athletics. Notably, the same video camera that followed my first goals and yellow cards followed me to my last.
No more lacing up your cleats, no more early morning practices, no more superstitious pre-game rituals, no more eye black, no more heartbreaking loses, no more overtime wins, no more chewed up mouth guards, no more locker room pep talks, no more warm-up laps, no more pasta fests, no more bus ride sing-alongs, no more #GAMEDAY, no more dangle, snipe, celly’s, no more post-game showers (even though we all know we skipped a few here and there…Thank God for body spray and deodorant.)
What happens to your competitive edge, your speed, your dedication, your drive, your ability, your footwork, all the plays you memorized, all the wins, the losses, the discipline, the time and effort over the years; where does it go? What else can fill that empty hole that is now in your heart?
The majority of introductions made at school started with, “Hi I’m Caroline, I’m a junior, I’m a business major and I play lacrosse and run track here.” Sports defined me as a person, and being an athlete was considerably who I was. As an athlete, you have a clear identifier and label to give yourself. In losing that, it was easy to consider myself now lost amongst the crowd.
Coping with the change has definitely been a journey in amongst itself. But recently I’ve come to the conclusion that all of the qualities I took pride in at practice or during a game: the drive, dedication, discipline, time management, and all the effort, does not need to part from my identity just because I no longer wear the number 17 on a jersey.
The traits you acquire as an athlete follow you to future endeavors and successes. Beyond the clichés of teamwork and being competitive, you have developed an undeniable sense of work ethic, positive energy, responsibility, self-confidence, and the ability to overcome failure. All the practices that were too long, games that were too cold, the bruises, and the missed shots; are circumstances that may be missed dearly by us NARP’S, but with this loss stems a new realization of overall potential.
One vital takeaway I’ve realized in becoming a NARP is that you are never truly defined by one aspect of your life or another. You are a build-up of all the attributes that made you capable of becoming an athlete in the first place. So yes, you are a NARP, Newly Aware of Real Potential.
