Courageous… (Part II)
Another football story, this time with my oldest son when he was a 6th grader in Spartanburg, South Carolina. His team was playing the Salvation Army that Saturday. The Salvation Army pulled in players from all over the area and hadn’t lost a game in years. That morning, my son woke up sick. Wasn’t going to be able to play.
We had a talk: Are you really sick? Or are you afraid to play? I finally got him to admit, “But dad, they are HUGE. I could get killed!”
After a discussion about commitment to the team and conquering fear, I had him convinced. He would play. That afternoon, while his rag-tag team of 20 kids were warming up on the field, everyone turned to see what all the commotion was just outside the stadium. Here came the Salvation Army team, 50 strong, chanting, clapping and slapping their thigh pads in perfect rhythm. And they were indeed huge, looked like a high school team. Dressed in all white uniforms and helmets on, it was a storm trooper moment.
When the game started, my son was on the defensive line. First play, he was blasted off the line scrimmage, up in the air and landing five yards behind. Play after play, he was knocked backwards, but a little less each time. When the Salvation Army team scored their inevitable touchdown, he ran off the field, blood trickling from both elbows. Beaten, bloodied, but no longer fearful. And a lesson learned that day…
“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
–Eleanor Roosevelt