One fall afternoon, I walk over to the courts, and grip my racquet. The sun is beating down, and joining my team, I sense the nervous heat of competition in the air. We stretch and mentally prepare for our matches, formulating individual plans for achieving success. After huddling together for a cheer, we split up to face our opponents, and the spectators begin to arrive.
I believe that sports are honest. They honestly depict who a person is, and prod us to act with honesty. Watching someone compete puts him or her under a microscope, as the true reflection of a person is in a high-pressure situation. All of the athlete’s qualities are more pronounced. Through sporting events, I unearth more about myself.
I warm up with my opponent, taking time to reflect. Three years ago, I would never have seen myself in this position. I played volleyball throughout middle school, and as a freshman, I tried out for my high school team. After being cut, I was disheartened. I readjusted my focus, worked throughout the winter, and come August of my sophomore year, I made the JV tennis team. Numerous challenge matches later, I stand at the net, hitting volleys as the first singles tennis player.
I win the first set six games to three. But there is no guarantee in tennis, or a time clock. Anything is possible. My opponent comes back and wins the second set. I stand, talking through the fence to my coach, as we strategize for the final set. “You will outlast her,” she says. I nod, automatically, but then realize she is right. I frequently play all three sets, and never give in. My style is not one of extreme strength (believe me), but of grit. I will dig in, and grind this match out until the end.
I believe in sportsmanship, maybe too much. By this time, both teams have gathered around our court; it is four games to four in the final set. I am losing fifteen to forty within the game. We rally, hitting back and forth, and I see my opening. I run towards the net, slamming an overhead shot perfectly onto her side. My team cheers, but I turn, visibly upset. I had hit the net. The loss of this point will put me down four games to five, allowing her an opening for the win. This illegal accident goes unnoticed by my fellow player, though, and as I turn to go the other side, she tells me the ball was good, I had won the point. I let her know that I had hit the net, and she is shocked by my admission. I could have easily kept my mistake to myself, but that is not who I am. I act with a sense of integrity, and would rather lose than forget my morals. I go to the side of the court, wipe the sweat off my forehead, and take a breath.
As an observer, yes, it is just a sporting event. On the other hand, it is a representation of myself. I do not let obstacles stop me from achieving success; they simply direct me towards another path. I am unrelenting, and always put forth my best effort. I hold strong morals, and care more about who I am than what I do. But, just so you know, I did get the win that day.