It’s a sharp feeling - like the stab of a knife that’s been sitting in the freezer. A moment all athletes know will come to them without warning, even though they have been expecting it their entire lives. It is where the lines on the field blur into the lines of reality, and there are no more whistles, or rows of lockers and jerseys. It’s graduating from a team that is at times closer family than your own blood relatives, and moving to a life where every moment is a greater fight than any playoff game.
Life after sports waits for no one - there is no preseason, no athletic trainer, and no coach. When you finish with your sporting career, you get ready to face the most competitive thing you will ever face - the real world. How do we balance? How do we adapt? How do we find a “love of the game” when we find ourselves always waiting for the opening whistle for a game that already started before you even graduated, and will never end?
Every team I have ever been on has seemingly had a storyline that courses through the veins of each season. From personal struggle, to odds overcome. From tragic loss, to glory earned. The “storybook” veil can be cast over any team’s season, but when you graduate, and the once proud regalia is resigned to a shelf of alma matter memories, what is your story then? Who is the author? I am by default, a writer. I humbly “work” by throwing combinations of words onto pages about people who actually work, and work very hard. I write about wine, food, and liquor for my own website, and freelance for various publications. I tell stories about restaurants, their chefs, and the people that breath life into them. I shed light on people who’s tales are locked behind a wall of false two star Yelp reviews sloppily thrown together by a sea of perpetually pissed off people that would “like to speak to the manager.” Hardly a day-to-day effort in physical excessive, and a very far cry from my days of college lacrosse.
As someone who eats and drinks for work, staying in shape is very important, because with the volume at which I work (translation: eat and drink) this train can go off the rails very quickly. With no game schedule, team captains, or coaching staff, it is now entirely up to me. So, everyday I battle. Everyday I put on equipment and go to war. Most days it is a performance t-shirt and shorts for the gym (surprise surprise, it’s publicDIVISION) and, thankfully, on the occasional weekend I get to go to “church” and give thanks to the game of lacrosse with a men’s league game, tournament, or occasional pick-up game. The men’s league games are equal parts over-zealous 23-ish year olds and ambitious people in the 30-or-older variety (I proudly fall into that group) and the pick-up games are what you would expect. That image you just had in your head? Yep - That’s exactly what they look like. Not much of a competitive battle like glory days past, but still it is playing the game I love.
There is a spark of hope shining through this seemingly mediocre storm that all athletes weather in this stage of life. It is a short but definitive conversation that everyone will have once there are no more drills 0r practice plans. It is inevitable for all of us athletes who transition from a member of a team one day, to the GM of our own lives the next. You will have be about to workout, or have just finished. You will then lock eyes with the person in the mirror. Then, you’ll be offered a choice - stay silent and keep going with your daily routine, accepting the world around you to dictate your life, or fight to take control of your own narrative. It can be easy to go through the motions of everyday life - it is like batting practice for the soul. Or, if you choose, you can take control. You can step back over those blurred lines of reality back onto the field - shaping your story so that everyday is just like the glory ones. Mind, never in the name of struggle, hard as real life may be, but with the raw, unabashed enthusiasm of running out of the tunnel on game day. The same “love of the game” that took you through all those locker rooms, speeches, workouts and more can be found in the everyday, but only if you choose it. We all have a story to tell after what seems like the final whistle blows. However, the season of life will extend far beyond anything we collectively played before. I know how I will compete, and that I alone will tell the storyline of my life’s season to the world. The question is, will you let the world tell your story? Or will you look at that opponent in the mirror, step back onto the field, physical or not, and write your own story.
There was always more to us than a jersey number and position on the depth chart. There is for me, and there is for you. Even if you are still in college or high school. Don’t wait for that moment after the whistle to hit. Never, ever, wait for the world to tell you what your storyline will be. Turn up the stadium lights, hit the field, and shout your story to the world. My life may have moved away from the fields I use to know, but I choose to live in a way that no matter where I am, I always feel like I have home-field advantage.
Can you say the same?
#storiedknit