Why does anyone share anything? Experiences meaningful to you are so often common threads to others. If this is true, it’s reasons enough to share…

When we were young....well younger, we were encouraged, actually told, to stay active outside of school. We dabble with music, art, while some of us discover sport, or a bit of all the above. If you have a decent support system at home who are actually paying attention, some of these activities may be pursued beyond the initial dabble in the hope of something greater, perhaps a passion, or even prospects for the future. Maybe even the next generation’s Federer, Woods, Picasso, Mozart was in the works. At least that was the thinking at one time before reality sinks in...or should have for the majority. You hear the encouragements, feel the need to participate and all of a sudden you are in and committed. Everyone has a slightly different journey in pursuit of their respective greatness but many have similar beginnings. 

For me, it started with weekday lessons and weekend peer group practices. First, even just making contact with the tennis ball was an accomplishment. It was fun, challenging, almost had purpose. I wanted to excel, I listened, I was engaged, put in genuine effort for a seven year old. Initially, it seemed like I was doing a smidgen better than others, so I listened to the encouragements, further heightened my participation and level of engagement. This led to the next natural progression, competition, like in an actual tournament, or was it really the next natural progression? This happened to me not once but twice... golf and tennis.

You are now thrown into the arena battling it out with your opponents...but really you are battling with yourself.

Before I knew it, I was spending long hours in the car travelling across the province from one competition to the next. I was spending time in US sport camps, I was meeting renowned coaches and the trophy cabinet was no longer empty. No matter a first round loss in tennis or a missed cut in golf, my parents and I pressed onward on this crazy journey in the hopes that I will achieve greatness. The dream back then was to play in the US open for both golf and tennis and the only real obstacle standing in my 10 year old mind was how I would schedule my private jet between majors and grand slams when I’m older… Ignorance is bliss I guess. 

As I entered my teenage years, reality really sets in. I was lost in a sea of talent and other young athletes with just as much if not more determination and grit then myself to make it to the next level. When I was just starting out in golf, I was known as the “Golden Arrow” for how straight my shots were and how I always found the fairway effortlessly. In tennis, I was marvelled for the power generated from my young small frame. This all seemed to changed when I was 14, as everyone around me seemed to be stronger, taller, faster, hitting straighter, farther and with greater accuracy. I was no longer “unique” and this reality devastated …

Soon, golf scores that lived up to my own standards in the past barely placed me in the middle of the pack.  In tennis, the early round exits became more and more frequent as I was at the mercy of higher seeded players simply doing their job in a mechanical and even robotic fashion. These other young competitors were all terminators in my young mind with the sole mission of eliminating me from relevancy as I struggled to keep up with their seemingly incessant pace of improvement at times.

This was proven more clear than ever when I played the World Juniors in the US with some of the best prospective 14 year old golfers. I was prepared, focused and ready to prove myself. I walked around with confidence, telling myself, “I belong here”. After what I considered two solid rounds, to my father’s and my own dismay, this placed me in the depths of the leaderboard, as anyone within the top 20 were shooting under par. Despite all my efforts and so called “talent” as a youngster, the “golden arrow” was not destined for greatness but the worst thing I could ever be, I realized I was barely average….

A parallel realization was made in tennis although on a much less grand scale but similar shattering results. After a six hour drive to what I like to call, the middle of nowhere, I arrived at the tennis tournament with my same steely determination I’d had since I was seven years old. I completed my warm up and stared down my first round opponent. As we started the match, we both realized this would be gruelling and we were right. I took the first set in a tiebreaker, he took the second 7-5. Other matches came and went beside us, 4 hours and 26 minutes later, I pulled through via another tiebreaker in the 3rd set. With barely enough energy to shake his hand, I was informed by the officials that I would have to play another match within the next half hour. I could feel cramping muscles everywhere, and I looked down at my hands to find them littered with blisters. The first seed handily beat me in the next round in barely an hour. At this moment, I realized my parents and I had travelled all this way, poured literal blood, sweat and tears for a second round exit, essentially nothing.. Again I felt worthless…. 

This type of experiences continued to compile, as I felt increasingly below average and continued to lose sight and hope of what I now realized were foolish dreams. As I started to lose confidence in my ability, something began to stir inside that I thought I had never felt before, anxiety.  I now entered tournaments with winning being an afterthought as it seemed like such an unattainable goal, a promise land that I would never reach. Prior to the competition in either sport, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, I felt emotionally sick and wanted to hide from any viewers…

During the actual competition, it was as if my body was turning against me. My legs turned to jello in tennis as my movement slowed, and my arms started to shake. My backhand failed me as I continued to revert to slices and my game became much more defensive minded.  At times, I would have to toss several times before serving as my hand seemed to have lost its fine motor skills. I also never served a first serve, a previous weapon in my game, as I was too worried about the dreaded double fault. In all, I had become what I despised the most in tennis, a “pusher”, an individual who does not attack but waits for their opponent to miss first, a strategy that will never win tournaments…

In golf, my quivering hands carried over from tennis as shanks left or right increased in regularity. Putting, the most delicate aspect of the sport, was horrifying to me now as I could not keep the club straight through contact and time after time, the ball would helplessly roll past the hole as the strokes continued to add up…..

As my struggles in the two sports compounded, I questioned how I got to this point and why I was even competing at all. I was a wonder child, a prodigy destined for greatness, wasn’t I?  My ranking continued to fall in both sports but what angered me most, was my loss ability. At one point, the racket and club was an extension of my arm and where I felt most comfortable was on the court or course. Now, it was an alien object in my hand and the last place I wanted to be was anywhere near either sports….

I distanced myself from both, quitting competitive tennis and only playing the rare golf tournament.  I was lost, destitute of confidence, and a shadow of my former self.  Although my parents were disappointed, deep down, I knew they understood… 

I felt alone in my struggles but after some initial and much needed research, I realized this was a reality for majority of aspiring athletes. In the US, there is about a 5% chance on average of competing at the collegiate level across all sports. Even if you make it to an NCAA school and play at an American college, there is still less than a one percent chance of becoming a professional athlete, specifically 0.005%. Never does anyone caution these odds when you are a child, because they are certainly dream “killers”.  Not to mention the possible detrimental aspect of playing sports at the college level as you are expected to focus on the sport and may forego some aspects of school. This leaves you with limited options if you are not part of the top percentages and places you amongst the many reinventing yourself as you are no longer unique but utterly and completely, average…however,....

With all these facts and the struggles that exist both physically and emotionally, the looming question presents itself, Why should one even compete in sports at all?

I have battled with this question for some time and believe I have come to my conclusion. After a couple of years without competition, training, drills, oblivious road trips, I realize that competitive sports have shaped me to the person I am today.  It has equipped me in so many aspects of life without my realization. Confidence in one’s own ability even when none can be found, resistance to intimidation from others, determination to practice one’s craft to perfection, dealing with less than ideal circumstances, moving past failure and not getting caught up in success are just some of the many lessons competitive sports have taught me.  I realized life is an on-going competition and we are constantly tested, my trials and tribulations in tennis and golf as a youngster have only prepared me better as I embark on to the next chapter in my life. So when the question, “Why should one compete in sports” is posed to me, my response, “because it teaches you how to deal with adversity and makes you stronger”.

Despite all my anxiety issues and mental blockage as a child, I now play both sports freely and seek out a court or course whenever possible. I also long to compete again.  

Although majority of what’s written appears to be devoted to my journey in diminishing competitive sports, it is actually the realization that with the proper support and positivity from the people around, I have learned that I can accomplish anything with perseverance. The “Golden Arrow” is back on track!