4:09: Just Give Up

Although quietly stated, it echoed throughout the room.

"Seriously, Just quit," she said.

I started opening my mouth to give her my retort but she silenced me before the words could even leave my mouth:

"Don't give me that 'I can achieve all things' speech. I am sick of your comparisons to Michael Jordan. Frank, this is just not for you."

Her words stung me. My fractured pride began to show on my face a bit. Starting with my eye brows shifting up like the magma turned lava, blasting through the top of the volcano. The ash surrounded the room in the form of embarrassment and rage. Before I could even form any retort, any defense I said the first thing everyone says at a loss of words:

"Just shut up," I shouted proudly, stalling until the next sentence would arrive from the heavens, yanking me from the awkward tension in the gym. It never didn't arrive. It might have if she didn't start talking again.

"Frank, look man. I know you love basketball, but its not for you. I am just trying to save your time. You invest entirely too much into something that's not working for you."

I went ahead and used my Michael Jordan retort anyways:

"Michelle! Jordan didn't make his high school basketball team. He practiced nonstop. I bet he heard the same kind of comments. 'Just quit. You suck!' But he persevered. And that is the kind of message Jordan stood for. Working hard and achieving. No matter how grueling the obstacle may be. If the heavens hold you down, you gotta go Atlas on 'em"

She laughed. It was the most painful, piercing laugh. It burned. I really felt what I said and she mocked it. I felt trivial. She realized what she had done to my spirit a few moments later. Perhaps it was the watering of my eyes and the stillness of my body that gave it away. But she realized the pain and tried to make amends.

She got quiet and said, "Frank, I'm really sorry. I know this is important to you. I didn't mean to hurt you."

I tried to respond as if she hurt me but I was too embarrassed to pretend. My emotions could fill the entire empty gym. So I vented:

" Why the hell do you think I can't do this? What makes you think that I can't develop the skill, ever?"

She humbled her self and said, " I don't know. You're right. I have no clue. You could become the next Michael Jordan. But let me ask you something."

She walked a little closer and put her hand on my shoulder and smiled. I wanted to punch her. I really did not feel like being touched. She continued. "When do you think its a good time to give up a dream?"

I wanted to laugh. It was an absurd question. I thought she was really going to ask me something that would really open my eyes or change my way of thinking. I quickly, without a single thought, chuckled and responded.

"Never." I stared smuggly with an impeccable ego, swelling, swelling and swelling some more at the same speed as my ear to ear grin.

"Frank," she said politely and without any condescension, "Jordan knew when to quit."

I was immediately afraid of what she would say next. I knew exactly where she was going with her argument. Before she even began to explain herself, my ego had packed up it's things and returned home in my shrinking head, like a family picknic, spoiled by stormy weather. Oh did it storm.

She reminded me of Jordan's one year baseball career. I didn't even listen to her words because I just knew. The worst part of knowing that you're wrong is when you realize it too quickly and then experience everything you just heard in your head, out loud by a friend. I started listening again after she told me Jordan's stats.

"Frank," she said calmly and sympathetically, trying to protect my ego, which worked, "You can become the next Jordan but how much time do you have? Time is so important, Frank. I am afraid you're wasting it. We're in college now. You didn't even make the team in high school, or you're freshmen and sophomore years here at the university. You're a junior now! Just give up. You are so talented at so many other things. You're a master chef, you write tear jerking poetry, and you are technologically inclined. Yet, you have NBA dreams. There are people in the world that can only play basketball and rely on that to in life. You are really not good at it but have other talents. The last thing you should do is ignore your other talents and waste your time. Its the most important thing you have."

After that day, and a few more days of an awkward air between Michelle and I, things went back to normal. I was too proud to quit immediately so I played it off over time. I didn't bring up tryouts this semester because I didn't go. I had less basketball conversations and made more Computer Science references. No to mention I started having secret meetings with my advisers, who were helping make some last minute career paths changes. Then, eventually basketball had fallen off the face of my world.

My whole life I was told to never give up. But I guess I misinterpreted the meaning.

Giving up goals is a part of life. People change, so do dreams.

But giving up hope, not believing you can achieve anything, is what people should avoid.

You can beat the odds, but you can't beat Time.