The summer between 8th grade and high school was a blast. It was 1978 and I was looking forward to a new school. It was too early to think about football since it was only June, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to play. I did great in 8th grade flag football and of course, bragged on how I was planning on playing high school ball.
On a Monday during the first week of August, my mom drove us home from the beach where we had spent the day with some friends. When we walked in the house, my mom opened the mail. She told me I needed to get my workout clothes on because the letter said football practice started that day.
I protested for a moment, then put on some shorts and a t-shirt and my tennis shoes. I thought about flag football practice and figured it would be just like that.
Until my mom dropped me off at the school. I swear it looked like MEN out there getting ready for practice. The few freshmen like me felt like we didn’t belong. And then it started.
For the next two hours I experienced pure physical and mental torture. It wasn’t just the coaches; it was the upper classmen too. When it was over, on the way home, I told my mom I wanted to quit.
She refused. I was a little angry, but mostly scared. That first week was tough. The second was worse. Coaches called it “hell week.” Full pads and two-a-day workouts. At the end of that week the varsity practiced alone and everyone else, including me were designated as JV.
As time passed though, I got used to the routine. And when school started, I didn’t feel like the other freshmen. People already knew me, including the upper classmen. And I also found out that playing football made even a lowly freshman popular.
In November, my K-8 school had an 8th grade reunion. When I talked to one of the best 8th grade athletes that I played flag football with, I fully expected him to regale me with his tackle football escapades.
Instead, he told me he quit during the first day of hell week.
I couldn’t believe it. And I was so glad I didn’t quit.
My high school football career was one of very few wins, but lots of fun and I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I was the team’s MVP my senior year. The only offensive lineman to ever win it.
I was even happier at the awards ceremony that I didn’t quit.
What are you on the fence over quitting this week? What would happen if, through some perseverance, you break through and get good at it? We might never know your full potential if you give up on it too soon.
Think about it this week.