The striving for perfection is what draws me to sports. I am a competitive person; the process of making myself better is a never-ending fight. I have never been the best, but I try to become better at everything I do. I believe that a person is as good as they push themselves to be.
Every one of my Coaches always yelled at me, not because they disliked me or that what ever I did was so horrible, they yelled because they wanted me to be everything that I could be. I often would get mad at myself for messing up something that I knew better. Every time I messed up, I thought about what I had to do to fix it and went out there and practiced until I got it right. Like they say “Practice makes perfect.” All throughout my life this very principle has taught me a lot about never giving up.
On October 23, 2007 everything that I learned in sports about not giving up, I now had to apply. It was the day after my last football game of my senor year in high school. I remember being ready for the season of basketball to be a great one that year, but that wasn’t what the lord had planned for me. On that day, I was in a car accident. I broke my right femur, my left wrist and was bleeding on the brain from the impact of the truck. I was sent to the hospital under critical condition. The first week was not good for my parents. I was in a coma for the first few days and out of my mind for the rest. I bleed enough on m brain to cause damage to the point of having to relearn how to talk and walk.
The lesson learned in sports was now being used toward perfecting my quality of life. My determination was to play basketball my senior year, I fought everyday just to be better. The process was very frustrating, I remember even doing things, like walk and simple math, now seemed to be really hard to do. I felt that everything I had worked for my whole life was just flushed down the toilet. I didn’t let that stop me. I was not going to let this stop me from playing basketball. I struggled with the exercises to the point of exhaustion. The doctors at first told me I wouldn’t be able to play basketball, but their opinions soon changed when they saw my progress and determination. Every night for a month, I fought against my own body in the hospital.
Finally the day came that I was able to leave the hospital. I still had to go through theraphy for another month, but at home. Half way through the season I became fairly strong enough in my leg and wrist to play, but the problem wasn’t them it was my head. After all that I had been through there was no way I was going to stop just short of the finish line. Even though my mother really didn’t want me to play, but loved me so much she would rather I be happy, called the doctor to see what else we could to do so that I could play.
I didn’t play on the varsity team that year, but I played for our junior varsity team. The doctor required that I wear a helmet to pad my head, so I would be less likely to receive a hit to the head. Even though I didn’t play that much, I was happy. Happy because I never did give up the fight, at times I thought about it, but never gave up. I believe in never stop fighting, because when you do you can only become better from it.