Glory Daze

May 2025

The other day I was with a group of friends I’ve been lucky enough to have accumulated over the last several decades. Good people and I enjoy them.  I think they enjoy me too.  We were at an outdoor gathering, drinking, eating and chatting.  We try to gather once a month or so for some relatively mindless camaraderie and relaxation.  Oddly, on this particular day, I had a bit of an epiphany.  One that has made me ponder something I judge to be core to my existence. 

No, it’s not a spiritual thing, but it seems so when I reflect on it.  It’s not religious, nor about any major singular event in my life.  The fact is, it’s simple yet quite complicated.  It stems from the experiences I gleaned from being an athlete. I know! That even sounds odd as I write it down.  But let me explain.  What I am saying is, my time playing sports as a youth and young adult had more influence on who I am now than any other stimulus in my life.

No, I never became a professional athlete. As we all know, a very minute percentage of all athletes ascend to that level.  In fact, I didn’t even play sports in college.  I could have, I chose not to, but that’s not the point.  Basically, my formal sporting life ended in high school.  But I still do not hesitate to call it one of the most formative endeavors of my life. And the crazy thing is, almost no one knows this, but me.

So back to my friends.  On this particular day, the conversation in our little group got around to sports.  People began recanting their time being involved, each person to varying degrees. Everyone seemed to have a story about their heroic moment, basking in glory.  I just listened.   Out of the blue, an old friend of mine, the only one in our party that has known me for essentially my whole life piped up, “Jim was an amazing athlete growing up.  He dominated everything he played”.  I was completely surprised by his comment, but appreciated it, nonetheless. The whole group went silent and looked at me. Pausing, probably waiting for me to recant all the glory of my youth.  Yet, I stayed quiet.  I may have grinned a little but offered no immediate response. The silence was deafening.

A woman that has recently joined our little troop finally said, “You played sports”? I noticed she was stealthily looking up and down at my moderately unfit, soft 62-year-old frame. To some extent, it felt like everyone was.  Her tone was a little skeptical but not challenging.  I didn’t take offense. And yes, I am a shadow of my former ultra-fit youth.  My current personality nor physicality certainly does not betray a person that was once a dominant athlete. Even if it was more than 40 years ago.

Someone else inquired, “What did you play”?  Again, my old friend piped up, “He played everything!”.  I chuckled at his support, and his memory of my past successes. Truthfully, I wasn’t good at everything, but I was good enough at football and baseball to be All-State my senior year in high school.  I was also the MVP of both of those teams. Something I am very proud of.  When that was uncovered, I sensed a bit of disbelief from the group.  There were a few “Wows!”.  But nothing more.  Not that it matters.  What’s the big deal about that anyway? File it in the drawer of no one really gives a shit.  Regardless, the conversation moved on, as conversations do.  Soon we were talking about travel and new restaurants in town.  Drinking and laughing and having a good time.  All talk of glory days long past was done. 

Yet later, I found myself still thinking about it. I was considering the very few people who remember I was once a talented and highly successful athlete.  There are literally only a handful of people in my life that would still remember.  Even my kids don’t know.  It doesn’t bother me, other than the fact that within sports, lies the foundation of my being. A secret to my success that would seem to be important enough to want to share. Not keep as a secret.  But I rarely talk about it. Yet, I feel compelled to discuss it now. And no, it’s not about glorious moments within my sporting life. Its about how sports changed my life. 

From the time I was a small child, I played and excelled at sports. Why? Well, there are a few likely reasons.  I had older brothers that pushed me and taught me. I was bigger than other kids, faster, more adept. Maybe angrier, and always more competitive.  Given this, I was constantly involved in some sport, formal and otherwise.  My parents liked it, as it kept me busy and out of trouble.

So, I played organized sports from 5 years old until I was 18.  Then I essentially stopped.  Oddly, I was recruited by major colleges in both baseball and football.  But I had no thoughts of carrying on, and no parental support to do so. Quitting sports turned out to be almost as formative as it was playing them.  It was a difficult transition.  Sure, I played some intramural sports in college, some pickup games here and there. I discovered racquetball and golf. But essentially, I was done with organized team sports.  And frankly, that was a good thing.

Let’s just say I played sports long enough to have the scars to stimulate memories, but nothing too severe to make life physically difficult as I have aged. That means I stopped at the right time. After all, how far can athletics and sports take you if you’re just very good at it, and not world class?  Let’s just say I played long enough to experience the sweet taste of victory and success, as well as the bitterness of failure and defeat.

Within all of this, I personally experienced being the hero and the goat. Making the game saving play and striking out to end the game. I also caught touchdowns, hit home runs and made lots of great plays. I have memories of glory that will last me a lifetime. And that’s enough. It can stay with me and does not need to be cocktail party fodder.  But as I said, I firmly believe that my years in sports, although a finite part of my life, were my most formative time. Physically of course, but emotionally and psychologically as well.

It was here that I learned the importance of being a part of something bigger than myself. Yes, I was a leader, but I had to learn how to lead.  I also had to learn to be a good teammate. I learned to enjoy the camaraderie of going into battle with my mates. Win or lose. Providing experiences and the ability to adapt and respond to circumstances I would have gotten nowhere else. So, I learned how to lead as an individual and how to play as a part of a team. Knowledge I still use. Knowledge that has turned into wisdom.  Of equal importance, I was taught how to win with humility, and how to lose with grace. How controlling your emotions is often critical to success. How channeling your passion into the energy of your play can make all the difference.  In anything that you do in life.

So as a young athlete, I experienced all the joys of being a part of a team. I felt the ultimate highs when I contributed, and I learned how to support my teammates. I learned the importance of consoling a fellow player who made a mistake, and I benefitted from kind words myself when I failed.  And I often failed!  Sports are like that.  I also learned how important it was to provide solace for the losing team. But mostly, I discovered the temporary nature of both winning and failing. That you’re only as good as your next at bat, or your next pitch, or the next play. I also learned that no matter what you did, no one will remember it for very long. Good or bad. So, get over yourself and move on. A rule I have lived by for many years.

During my time in athletics, I was coached, both well and poorly.  You realize the difference, even when you are young. As life progressed, I had many managers over the course of my working career.  Both good ones, and bad ones.  Sports made me ready for this.  I had the savvy to understand that not everyone is blessed with the ability to lead.  To help you grow.  But regardless, often these people ascend to a position where they need to lead.  Are forced to.  Some help you thrive, others you just survive.  But you realize you still can learn from them. 

In life, we continuously face challenges. The struggles differ for each of us, but we all have them. They might pertain to problems at work, or in relationships.  We may have cyclical identity concerns, about who we are or why we are here.  All of us deal with grief, loss, physical issues or mental strain.  I have found that sports provided me with the tools to help deal with most of life’s challenges. We all win some, and we all lose some in our lives, no matter how good we might be at something. Knowing how to cope with stress and disappointments is a continuous battle throughout human existence. I have been well prepared for this.  And I have sports and all that goes with being an athlete to thank for it.

Still, do I need to boast of my glory days?  No, but so many others do.  Both clinging to, and often embellishing, moments of triumph and success.  And you know what? That’s fine too.  It just shows that sports can help your ego, as well as the many other facets I have described.  All of which are much harder to think and talk about. We generally don’t even realize we have them.  And I am sure there are many that feel as I do.  Forever changed by the experiences.

So, when you look at me now, my shadow is a little bigger in spite of me being a shadow of my former self.  At least physically.  But the benefits remain underneath.  The memories may fade from existence but not the impact they have had on me and everyone I have tried to teach and coach myself.  I am eternally grateful for the lessons that sports provided. All the coaches, the players, the fans, the experiences.  An education I would never have found anywhere else. One far more impactful and important than cocktail party stories can describe. But they can be fun anyway!