“I just want you guys to have one more year to develop so you can kill it on varsity the next three years.”

What?

The only thought to occupy my mind as I stand with the other chumps not on varsity. This wasn’t what I wanted to be thinking. I wanted to let my mind explode with thought and emotion. That will wait for home. I must keep my composure. I must hold back the army of deadly warriors, my emotions. I hate lacrosse! I actually hate it! After being held back from the A team last year, I understood I just wasn’t good enough. My developing mind now thought I would never be good enough for anything. Dramatic. Home was the only place I needed to be. I can’t be around people right now. I need to get off this field. As I walked back to my bag, my friend Garrett and I returned similar looks. The “I know bro, this is stupid” look. He didn’t make it either. I ripped my gear off and walked to the car. Without saying a word, my Dad knew what team I was on. I just want to be home.

“EMOTIONS, ATTACK!!!”

I hate lacrosse! I hate coach Dill! I’m done! I’m quitting!

Dude, chill. This doesn’t matter.

I started to feel bad for myself, and my pillow in that case. At least I’ll be of the star of the Junior Varsity team. I’ll get more playing time than all my teammates. This is what coach wanted for me. He wanted me to play the most. He wanted me to be the star. He knows I’m a good player. He saw my potential. I just wasn’t ready to shine on the Varsity team. He was the Coach. If anyone knew, it was him. Sophomore year goes by, Junior year following close behind. Those two years I was an impact varsity player. As I begin my Senior season I know that it is my season to be the Captain, the number one player. This would never happen if I didn’t play JV, or get held back to develop during Freshman year. But does this all really matter?

 Another sports story about failing in the beginning and achieving in the end, realizing that the failure was actually beneficial. In reality, most boys only play sports until they are maybe 20 years old. Lacrosse isn’t going to be that important to me in 5 years. My Senior high school season isn’t going to be important to me in 5 years. This is the deeper lesson I’ve learned from lacrosse; that things one finds so vitally important won’t always matter ;ater on, or won’t always go as you planned. Sometimes you won’t make Junior Varsity, or even the second Varsity junior team. That’s life. Other times, you will get cut from all teams. You will prepare yourself to reach a certain level, but never reach it. You will go to school for ten years to become a doctor, and realize at some point, you don’t want to be a doctor. You will study law for years only to be denied by your dream law firm. I had been playing lacrosse since I was eight years old. One would think I was ready to play varsity after over eight years of playing. Ever since I picked up my first stick, I wanted to play college lacrosse. I’ve been playing lacrosse for more than ten years now and I do not see the sport anywhere in my future after high school. I’ve prepared myself for that long to play college lacrosse but as I grew up I realized that it wasn’t for me. That is the deeper lesson lacrosse has taught me. Life isn’t always going to follow your plan. Things will change. And the way you deal with it is what’s most important.

I have happily chosen to accept that after high school, lacrosse isn’t in my future. As I continue on, I will use this lesson as a form of relaxation when times get tough, or when it seems as if things aren’t going my way. If I don’t get into the school I want, or get my dream job, I will know that it was not meant to be. I can thank lacrosse for that lesson. I’ve dealt with disappointments and learned from them. I’ve learned that questioning the importance of these disappointments helps bring into focus what really matters to me in my education and beyond. As I become a contributing member of my college community I can draw on those experiences, and help others deal with uncertainty about their goals and ambitions in the moment. Not making varsity my freshman year of high school seemed like the most devastating thing at the time. Ultimately, it became an afterthought. I’m a better person for it.