As I contemplated today's writing prompt I wracked my brain over just what the heck I was going to write about.
Unlike some others who started out with us on day #1 of our little writing sojourn, I've managed to post a piece each and every day. Now that's an accomplishment.
But having said that, what else is there to say?
I've always been somewhat driven. I really used to be a "Type A" personality, a little anal, perhaps, bent on accomplishment.
When I set my mind to things I more often than not succeeded. Be it raising my kids, undertaking various careers, buying a house, whatever - I usually accomplished what I set out to do.
But it wasn't always so. Especially as a kid. Someone once said sometimes you've got to fall before you fly. And as a kid I fell a lot.
For example there was the time I tried out for the local baseball team. I couldn't play baseball, but I really, really wanted to be a part of this activity. Somehow they made me the pitcher. I'd never pitched before. Oh, sure, I'd thrown a ball around with my friends but I'd never burned one across home plate.
What happened? I went through my little wind up, unleashed the ball underhand. And watched it sail into the air and over the backstop. There was much laughter and catcalls.
So much for my pitching career
I had the same trouble with hockey in my formative years. I couldn't skate worth a tinker's damn. So the coaches made me the goalie. This was cool, I thought. I got to strap on these huge pads, wear a mask and carry a huge stick. What could be easier.
I was on a good team. The guys were usually able to keep the puck away from me. I recall, however, one time in particular when the action was down at the other end of the rink when the puck bounced out and started to travel down the ice towards me. No one was stick handling it. It was moving on it's own.
Simple I thought. I'll just kick my stick and hit it off to the side. Well, I kicked a little too hard and a little too soon. And with all that padding I lost my balance, fell onto my back and watched that puck slide ominously across the goal crease. I was the laughing stock of the arena.
So much for my career as a goalie.
I did become a better baseball player. And I did improve my hockey game. And I played football and basketball. And I loved playing all the sports a young kid is supposed to play.
In the end I accomplished quite a bit. It didn't always start out well. But I never would have accomplished so much if I hadn't first decided to try.
You know, as I think back on this. I think I may have accomplished much more than succeeding at sports. Seems to me this is where I may have first learned to laugh at myself. And that, my friends, is some accomplishment.
Check out who else is still participating in 30 Days of Writing by clicking on the links over at We Work For Cheese.
Unlike some others who started out with us on day #1 of our little writing sojourn, I've managed to post a piece each and every day. Now that's an accomplishment.
But having said that, what else is there to say?
I've always been somewhat driven. I really used to be a "Type A" personality, a little anal, perhaps, bent on accomplishment.
When I set my mind to things I more often than not succeeded. Be it raising my kids, undertaking various careers, buying a house, whatever - I usually accomplished what I set out to do.
But it wasn't always so. Especially as a kid. Someone once said sometimes you've got to fall before you fly. And as a kid I fell a lot.
For example there was the time I tried out for the local baseball team. I couldn't play baseball, but I really, really wanted to be a part of this activity. Somehow they made me the pitcher. I'd never pitched before. Oh, sure, I'd thrown a ball around with my friends but I'd never burned one across home plate.
What happened? I went through my little wind up, unleashed the ball underhand. And watched it sail into the air and over the backstop. There was much laughter and catcalls.
So much for my pitching career
I had the same trouble with hockey in my formative years. I couldn't skate worth a tinker's damn. So the coaches made me the goalie. This was cool, I thought. I got to strap on these huge pads, wear a mask and carry a huge stick. What could be easier.
I was on a good team. The guys were usually able to keep the puck away from me. I recall, however, one time in particular when the action was down at the other end of the rink when the puck bounced out and started to travel down the ice towards me. No one was stick handling it. It was moving on it's own.
Simple I thought. I'll just kick my stick and hit it off to the side. Well, I kicked a little too hard and a little too soon. And with all that padding I lost my balance, fell onto my back and watched that puck slide ominously across the goal crease. I was the laughing stock of the arena.
So much for my career as a goalie.
I did become a better baseball player. And I did improve my hockey game. And I played football and basketball. And I loved playing all the sports a young kid is supposed to play.
In the end I accomplished quite a bit. It didn't always start out well. But I never would have accomplished so much if I hadn't first decided to try.
You know, as I think back on this. I think I may have accomplished much more than succeeding at sports. Seems to me this is where I may have first learned to laugh at myself. And that, my friends, is some accomplishment.
Check out who else is still participating in 30 Days of Writing by clicking on the links over at We Work For Cheese.
Comments
I have spent my life laughing at myself.
But I have a nice de-crawer for those have one up their butts.
HA!
Hell yes, it's one of the GREATEST accomplishments.
Seriously, this was an awesome post, Dufus. 250 points!