Our all-county senior fullback accelerated through a huge gap in the line. The JV freshman linebacker stepped in to fill the hole. Balanced and on his toes, Don assumed perfect tackling position. The massive Daniels never slowed. The collision knocked Don tumbling. His helmet popped off his head, flying in another direction. As Daniels sauntered into the end zone, we thought Don had been decapitated. A sick part of us wanted to laugh, and we sort of did, after Don sheepishly climbed to his feet. But the knowledge that we could be Daniels’s next victim quashed any amusement.
Coach called us JV guys the gnats. Compliment or insult? Maybe a little of both. The idea was that we’d be pesky, swarming, eager kids becoming battle-tested while practicing with the varsity. The reality of it — we were simple scout-team cannon fodder. And the truth is, I was terrified of Daniels. He enjoyed nothing more than trucking over a gnat.
In the 80s, they allowed grueling two-a-day August practices for two weeks before school started. South Florida humidity, in full pads. Somehow, I managed to avoid Daniels for the first 18 practices. But finally, my day of reckoning arrived.
I’d rotated in at free safety during a full 11-on-11 scrimmage. Unfortunately, a bunch of other gnats had done the same at DL and linebacker. They handed the ball to Daniels up the middle. It was like the Red Sea parting. Coach might as well have set up four cones 10 yards apart in a one-on-one tackling drill. The fullback’s eyes lit up. Not only was I a scrawny gnat, new to the school, but I was also a coach’s son.
For a split-second, I froze. Could I trip over my own feet and “accidently” face-plant? Maybe I could olé the tackle? But then, something took over. It was time to take my medicine. Prove myself to my new teammates.
But here’s the thing. I knew Daniels wasn’t going to juke me. I’d seen Don and others get plowed under. So with no time to think, I decided to attack. Forget good tackling form. I launched myself low and hard, straight at him. I might have even closed my eyes. Horrible form. I felt the collision and tasted dirt. But it wasn’t as bad as feared. Then I heard the hootin’ and hollerin’.
I spun around to see Daniels on the ground behind me. I was the first and only gnat to take him down. He wouldn’t even look at me as he trotted past.
High-fives galore when I returned to the sidelines. The crown of my helmet had suffered a huge gash. It was deep enough they couldn’t fully smooth it over in the offseason. For the next 3 years, I always found my helmet before the first day of two-a-days. Didn’t even have to try it on. I loved that gash.
I can’t claim to be the most courageous person. But on that day, at that moment, I overcame my fears. That’s the definition of courage. It’s not the absence of fears. It’s overcoming them.
Embracing Failure without Losing Enthusiasm
Was there a bit of embellishment in that story? Sure, I’m a writer. 😎 The amount of courage I showed that day was real, but minor. It’s not like I was facing Derrick Henry. I can’t imagine how much courage it takes to chase down a criminal, run into a burning building, or put on the uniform every day. But the concept holds true. Courage and Fear, strange bedfellows indeed.
Some things I’m afraid of:
- Heights – I have to slowly approach an overlook, with sweaty hands, and squeeze the railing that hopefully exists. Good news – the more I’ve forced myself to face this over the years, the less dependent I’ve become on that railing.
- Rejection
- Asking a girl out was something I never did in school. Rarely thereafter, either. I was such a wimp. 😞 Thankfully, I was strongly encouraged to call my wife-to-be and ask her on a blind date. And here we are, well over 15 years later.
- It’s quite nerve-racking to submit a story to a contest or a query letter to an agent or meet with a publisher at a conference. Clicking Send on that email can be intimidating. But I try to remember that the contact wants me to succeed. How else will they find the next Stephen King?
- Death – Because of my faith, I don’t fear the end of my days on earth. But I do fear the process of dying. This is one fear I’m not going to deliberately practice facing head-on 😏.
- Failure – Most of us struggle with this. I still do. Here’s a great quote from Winston Churchill: “Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.”
- That August on the football field, I was more afraid of an embarrassing failure than the physical pain of getting trucked. I was lucky that neither happened. But if I hadn’t faced that fear, I never would have had that gouged helmet for inspiration.
Hopefully this anecdote will encourage you to embrace failure without losing enthusiasm.
Memento
Did you know that “Ebenezer” does not mean a scrooge in the Bible? The Ebenezer Stone was put in place by the prophet Samuel to commemorate their courageous victory over the enemy Philistines, with God’s help. It was to serve as a reminder of God’s providence. It was meant to inspire courage to future generations.
I had my gouged helmet. Too bad I didn’t look at it more often. Maybe I could have actually accomplished something as a player. Oh well, I had fun.
Quotes
I’ll leave you with a few quotes:
- Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.” – Mark Twain
- “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” – Nelson Mandela
- “Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.” – John Wayne
- Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened. – Billy Graham
- Wouldn’t you like to have a legacy as the one who stiffened the spines of others? – me
- Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. – David
Comments
What fears have you been able to face in your life? What fears continue to challenge you? Do you have a memento of your success to inspire you? Drop a comment and let us know.
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