All my life I have been good at most things I’ve tried. I was
good in school regardless of the subject. I was good at History, Chemistry, and
Trigonometry. I went to Cornell University and that did not present a big
problem academically either. I’m a pretty good driver. When I put my mind to
it, I’m not a bad cook.
I just got done watching the women’s French Open Tennis Championship.
It was hard for me to watch it. It kind of stung. Four or five years ago I took
up tennis. I have two friends who play tennis and I thought it would be a good,
entertaining way for me to get some exercise. I bought a $200 racket and started
practicing. I would hit the ball against a smooth, cement wall and then hit the
rebound, or at least I’d try to hit the rebound. It did not go well. I did a lot
of ball chasing and not much ball hitting. I figured something was wrong, my
grip or something, so I went to a professional for a couple of lessons. He was
encouraging but truth is; he did not really instill in me any knowledge that I did
not already have. It turned out that my grip was fine. I was pretty good with my footwork, so there was no new information there. The instructor basically
helped me practice, but that was about it. Apparently when it comes to tennis, there
are no secrets to being good.
Well finally, after a couple of months of practicing, I took
my “game” out onto the court to actually play. Needless to say; I pretty much
stunk it up. My friends were supportive, but I was clearly not in their league, or anyone else's, to be honest.
But I am pretty good at things, so I kept at it. It was just a matter of time
before my talent kicked in and I would be just as good as the competition, or so I figured.
Five months passed and there was minimal improvement. Instead
of winning a grand total of a point or two per set, I was winning three or
four. I never won a single game, let alone a set against either of my friends. Worse,
it was clear that they were feeling sorry for me. I would hit a ball squarely
on the racket strings, and I would hear accolades, never mind the fact that the
ball traveled to some faraway region, never coming close to actually landing in
court.
Finally I could take no more and I quit. I’m sure my two
tennis-playing friends felt relieved. Nobody was brokenhearted. But it was one
of the hardest things I've ever done, at least emotionally. Still, it was a
learning experience, in its own way. Now when I hear such axioms as; Quitting is for losers, I bristle.
Quitting tennis was difficult for me, but I think it showed wisdom. Not to pat
myself on the back, but quitting may have even showed character.
I do not recommend quitting, or giving up on something, but
if you put in your best effort and fail, and fail, and then fail again, then
sometimes quitting is the best thing. But let me give you fair warning; it might make it painful to watch the
French Open.
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