Keep the Lesson, Lose the Label

Something you failed at is not the same as something you are.
Learn from a setback without turning it into an identity.
When I was 11 I joined Little League. I was a small, skinny kid compared to the other kids. My family had no money and my stepfather was not around. I found a glove in my grandfather’s basement in an apple basket with a bunch of softballs that were very old – most of them having the leather falling off them. This glove was from the 1920’s or something. The fingers were very fat, and the webbing between the thumb and fingers was a tiny patch held on with two old brittle strands of rawhide. The ball could fit through the openings in the sides of the web. I went to tryouts by myself. They were hitting balls to us in the field and watching. I could not catch with that glove. Another Dad saw the situation and felt sorry for me. He took the brand new red leather Rawlings glove from his son and let me borrow it for ten minutes.
When I was 12, I aged out of the farm team and had to go to the majors. I was ok at fielding, but I couldn’t hit well. After three games or so, the team manager put me BACK down into the farm team with the little kids. I was humiliated. Embarrassed. But I did not quit. I remember the farm manager and the major manager arguing. The farm team manager was telling the major team manager he couldn’t do that and that he had to take me back.
I went back to the major team. At the end of the season, the yearbook comes out with everyone’s batting average in order, top to bottom. I was on the bottom. .069. I did not quit. I was 80 pounds. The pitcher had a beard. The next year – .087.
You may have made a bad decision, lost, quit, or fallen short. Learn from the event- but don’t introduce yourself to the future using yesterday’s label.
A scar records an injury, but it also proves the wound closed. Remember what happened without living as though you are still bleeding.
Through these and other terrible experiences, I learned my superpower.
40 years later I became the oldest finisher of perhaps the hardest feat in motorsports – the Baja 1000 on a dirt bike – 34 hours solo, non-stop – where the number one most important thing you need to do to finish is – not quit.
Great story – great lesson!
Sometimes in life our biggest set backs it what motivates us.
Awesome story! Work in silence, let the success be your noise.