Meditations on 50, part 2

Decade 2: 11 to 20

This is a multi-part series. It’s best to start with part 1.

I was lucky to attend a high school with strong athletic programs. Soccer was a big deal. When I was in eighth grade, the high school varsity team won the state championship for the first time in school history. They had lost in the final in each of the prior four years. Winning the title was a big deal and I wanted to be a part of it. But I was young and slow and chubby and not very athletic.

My freshman year I started playing goalkeeper. I suspect the coach stuck me there because I was young and slow and chubby and not very athletic. By the end of that season, I started to get the hang of it and made a difference in a few games. I continued to improve that summer, and as a sophomore, I somehow made the varsity team, which was now the two-time defending state champs. I was a backup to the returning starter. Then, two days before the season opener, that guy was ruled academically ineligible. Fuck! I was terrified, and it showed. Thankfully, the team was loaded. More often than not, we scored a few goals before I even touched the ball. I rode the older guys' coattails to a state championship. Sure, I felt like a BMOC, but down deep, I knew I didn't contribute much.

That hollow confidence carried me through a decent basketball season. I even got some varsity minutes by the end of the year. Then came spring and tennis. In NH, high school contests have six singles matches and three doubles matches. The team that wins five of those nine matches wins the contest. I was our sixth-ranked singles player. I didn't match up well with our fifth-ranked player, so I didn't play doubles. Our 5th and 7th best players teamed up for third-team doubles.

We had a good team and I was a steady contributor. But like in soccer, I benefited from the abilities of other, more mature, and developed athletes. That ride came to an end in the state championship contest. Our top singles players lost matches they expected to win. I started to get a sense this was happening while I warmed up for my own match. I got off to a bad start...a bit lethargic and low energy. Suddenly, I was down four games to one. We played nine-game "pro sets" so the first player to win 5 games wins the match. I was on the brink of defeat, and I noticed an eerie quiet. No one else was playing; their matches were over. But it seemed strange that no one was celebrating. We hadn't won; they hadn't won. That meant we were tied: four matches to four matches. My match was the decider and I was in a deep hole. A hole with no older, more talented teammates to bail me out.

I felt alone...because I was. Coach Pinkham reminded me that I had a good serve, and if I got aggressive with it, I could win some easy points. That was the insight - focus on the next point. Just that and nothing else. And sure enough, point by point, things started to click. That was my first experience with flow state and I rattled off 5 games in a row to win the match 6 to 4 (you had to win the set by two games).

We were state champs. And as the least best player on the team, I made a big contribution. That day I learned that I could do things. That I could perform under pressure and lift others when they weren't at their best.