My Father always told my sister and I that it’s not how you start but how you finish. This mantra would be chanted at the beginning of the school year when we got our first grades, when field hockey season would start and our mile times were a little slower than he would have liked, and ultimately about life. Where you start is just a beginning, it does not have to define you. If you do not work and battle through the tough choices and pain that you will undoubtedly face along the way than where you start could very well be also where you finish. Ideally there is improvement. Ideally where you finish surpasses your wildest dreams for where you think you can accomplish.

My Father was a men’s lacrosse coach, just as his father was before him. My sister and I grew up around sports if it wasn’t on his field it was watching my sister compete at whatever sporting event she was kicking ass in. So sports and the idea of giving of one’s whole self for the good of the group was a common theme in our house. We were constantly coached, and everything was a competition. But like most coaches my dad had favorite sayings and stories to use to motivate his team to victory. But one of his stories that were his favorite wasn’t winning a championship game in fact it wasn’t a game at all: It was a boy named Bryson.

My Dad when he was coaching middle school refused to cut anyone. When he had more boys than jerseys he and my Mother went out and bought more. If a boy didn’t have equipment my Mother went shopping. My Father believed in athletics and the good that it can bring to all areas of someone’s life. This kid named Bryson would never have made the team. He was slow, couldn’t catch, and couldn’t throw to save his life. He was a coach’s worst nightmare because he had the best attitude of any of the guys that came out. He wanted to learn and he would be the first one to practice and the last one to leave. Well my Dad did not cut him and thus Bryson started to learn the art of lacrosse. He started staying later and later running extra laps after practice because he was tired of constantly being the last one done with what my dad called “Campus Tours.”

I can’t say that by the end of the season Bryson was passing all the guys on the team and became the best player. He became a decent defenseman and finished his runs with the pack no longer being lengths behind the guy in front of him. There was one game though that Bryson became the hero. The best player on the team was dirty checked from behind and had to be carried off the field. We had already won the game and there was only about two minutes left but as the defense was about to take the field Bryson looked over to the offense and asked for the guys number. Within thirty seconds of retaking the field Bryson had decked the kid and cracked Bryson’s helmet clean through. While it was a clean hit the shear force surprised the entire team both theirs and ours. As he jogged off the field (with his yellow card) Bryson looked at Coach and said, “you said we were a family, and family’s protect each other.”

Bryson ended the season having learned that if he wants something he can in fact get there but it is a long and sometimes hard process. Bryson ended the season with a family and he ended the season being a much more confident individual than he was at the start of the season. We all have a race to run. Life is a race that constantly seems to beat us down. I know throughout my life I have felt defeated with no hope of anything looking better. We all have problems that hold us back and push us down but the difference is that some people have something that keeps them going. Those people have faith.