At the start of the year, I had no sport in my mind. Although I did know I’d have to eventually get into one to look good on my college applications. The first semester went by like the wind, and I didn’t go for any fall sport. To spend my time I’d play video games, but I realize it’s wasteful. I needed to get out there and move my body. My inner athlete needed to shine, and not just for the weekly PT AFJROTC makes me do.

One day, my friend Dylan was playing tennis with his friend Ethan on our school’s courts. I go up to him and ask what’s up. He tells me that tennis tryouts is coming up and him and Ethan want to make the team. I thought to myself “Maybe I should go for the team…” I needed a racquet, so I asked my loving father for the old ones we had. He couldn’t find them, and with tryouts coming up I was in a cinch.

One afternoon days after I initially asked for the racquets, my dad gave me a new Wilson racquet and some balls. When I picked up that racquet, I felt a strong sense of reignited interest. I thought back to those days when I was in elementary school and I was playing tennis with my mother during the warm summer nights at the community courts in Tennessee. I remembered those old racquets she bought in the late 90s and we used then, and the racquet covers that have seen many years use. I used those memories as my motivation to play.

I practiced with Dylan and Ethan for a small amount, but I couldn’t play much, I had commitments with ROTC. I asked Dylan when were tryouts and he said they were within a week. But I only played with them a couple of times and I didn’t have my footing. In retrospect, it seemed like a recipe for disaster. But whatever happens happens, and I just needed to try my best.

Tryouts didn’t go so well. I hit the ball all over the place. My service was atrocious. I tried to be optimistic that I wouldn’t get cut, but inside I knew what was gonna happen. When the coach posted the team roster, I thought I saw my name, but it was just the other kid with the same name as me. After some initial glum, and a vague tip from the coach. I told myself it wasn’t over. It just begun.

Since then I found much time to find my bearing and hone my skills. I figured out how to properly serve, forehand, and backhand. I picked up various things I needed to use to get better, including a new racquet, I quickly improved my game tenfold. From failure, I found a new passion. I found a new drive, a drive to succeed and to be the best.

Now I lurk around the courts to practice my serve, and to play against the varsity players. Just this day the coach said to me “Good job, you’re getting much better.” Said most likely since I made some good shots forehand and backhand, also that got one of the varsity players good. Either way, I still have a ways to go.