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Power Of Perseverance by Michael A Hanover, Judge Memorial Catholic High School, Salt Lake City, Utah.
Ambition and perseverance seem to be the
foundation of everything I do. It has always made sense to me when
someone recites the cliché, “If you want something bad enough, you
can get it.” This is absolutely true; if you never give up you can
never see failure. In every challenge, believing in a positive
outcome and giving the maximum effort have proven, for me, to be the
keys to success.
My relative success in golf is one such example. I have a history of practicing nearly every day (in season) for several years to become the player I am today. The best part is that I believe that there’s no reason I can’t become an even better golfer if I apply the same dedication to practice in the future. Another example involves an academic success. Determined to move up one math level in the middle of my freshman year, I devoted myself to this achievement by reading and mastering more than 320 pages of the new math textbook in order to catch up with the higher level class. I finished in the 99th percentile. The most compelling proof of the importance of ambition and perseverance for success came to me during the spring of my junior year in high school. I wanted to join some of my friends in a sport I had never attempted, in fact, the first contact sport I had ever played− Lacrosse. I rounded up some used equipment− dirty, disgusting, odorous pads− from these friends and listened to their advice. They suggested I spend an hour each day throwing the ball off a wall, so I did it. They suggested hitting the weight room, so I did that too. By the time the season started I had gained 12 pounds of lean muscle and caught up with more experienced players in terms of stick skills.
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| I was athletically prepared- fit, confident, coordinated, and determined. I arrived at the Eccles field house for tryouts having never played a single minute of the game. Bright lights shone down on all of us illuminating strengths and weaknesses all night. I could tell that everyone knew I was the new kid. I laced up my cleats on the perfectly groomed turf with a double knot in each side. I threw on the pads that were much older than my lacrosse experience, and they smelled like it. I felt like the outcast. As I warmed up with a good friend who was also trying out for the first time, sweat began to pour from the cracks in my helmet and burn into my eyes. My passes weren’t perfect, and my catches were less so. I watched every move the more experienced players made and copied it; I tried to fit in. After a period of anxious warm-up, the coaches called us into groups for the beginning of what was to be a fulfilling night. A short and stocky coach told me in a deep and demanding tone to lay face down and chase the ball on his whistle. The whistle blew and I rose promptly to retrieve the white blur scurrying lively along the green turf. It was three paces before I could comprehend I wasn’t the only one chasing this ball. I ran hard and got there first by a narrow margin. The hits came all night. Sticks smashed into my arms and body, but it was refreshing to be playing a game where aggression is so important. |
I realized I was already as efficient with my stick as many candidates for the team, and that the time spent running and in the weight room had paid off exponentially. Blisters slowly filled with fluid on my feet and blood soaked into my fresh white socks, but all I could think of was how badly I wanted to make the team. Muscles caught fire as I ran with the ball. I played on and ran faster, hit harder, played smarter than I thought I knew how. I fell into a state of pure and simple determination, finally interrupted by the coaches calls to gear down and look for the tryout results in a couple of days.
Two days later, my heart pounded as I opened the emailed results. I had earned a spot on the junior varsity team, with zero experience. I wanted to celebrate, but my task was nowhere near accomplished. I was only more nervous. I was proud to feel the responsibility of being on a team, and had already made some new friends. In the next few months, I taught myself to play the faceoff position by watching a training video and practicing the moves every night as my parents blew a whistle. I soon became the starting faceoff man on the development team and one of the faceoff men on the junior varsity team. After scoring two solid goals in my second game of the season and winning, I was hooked. I stayed after practice every day, throwing the ball against a wall, and I drilled in my backyard on weekends. At practice, I made mistakes. I tripped, I dropped the ball, I got knocked down, I missed shots, but I always rose back to my feet, picked the ball up, or aggressively pursued it in the other teams stick. By the end of the season, the coach had invited me to train with the varsity team for the state tournament—so I did. All of my hard work and perseverance had paid off.
At the end -of -season awards banquet, I earned the annual award for
most outstanding first year player. I knew that I won the award
fairly and simply because I wanted it more than any other player and
I did what I needed to do in order to get it. This experience
affirmed my confidence and made me believe even more that there is
no limit to the power of perseverance. I never gave up, so I didn’t
fail.
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