Personal Statement
My feet are on the verge of blistering from the burning sand beneath me. The muscles in my legs are weak and worn out. Sweat continuously drips from my forehead. My face, a bright red, has been scorched by the sun which endlessly heats every part of my aching body. Barely standing, I get into my ready position, three feet away from my partner who I know is enduring the same physical and mental agony.
Through the net, which appears to have gotten higher, I look across to the other side of the court and focus my attention on the opponent. She stands 6’3” and appears to be twice my size. I anxiously wait for her to serve, fully aware that we’re down by one and it’s game point. I hear the impact of her hand on the ball. She serves straight and hard towards me. In a second, I panic and my anxiety gets the best of me. The ball bounces off my arm, hurdling far away from the court, towards the glistening blue ocean. The rally is over. The harsh reality sinks in. I lost the game, and I have never felt worse.
We had spent the whole day battling with other teams and pushing each other through games we never expected to win. Our bodies were so fatigued from the sun wearing us down. We felt a constant burn in our muscles as we hustled and fought for each point. Through all that work, we earned our place in the final round, and in a mere second, it was over.
Still thinking about what just happened, I hear my coach calling out to us. It’s time for our post-game debrief to discuss what went wrong and what we could have done better. I just want to run into the cool, soothing ocean. Walking towards her, I think of our defeat. Why didn’t I angle my arms better, stay calm, and not let intimidation get to me? I’m so disappointed and I know my coach feels the same way. I prepare myself for the harsh lecture that I so deserve to receive.
I approach her, ready to apologize, ready to reply to each of her comments and demands with a strong but respectful “Yes, Coach!” What she told me, I will never forget.
“Lindsey,” she said firmly, “that was the biggest heart I’ve ever seen you play with. Even though you were down and lost points in the beginning, you pushed yourself and got back up every single time. There’s no shame in losing that game. There would have been shame if you gave up, but you never did.”
I learned a very valuable lesson that day that not only applied to my beach volleyball career, but to life, in general.
We lost the game, but it wasn’t the end of the world. There would be bigger matches to come - matches that we would win because we persevered. I use this lesson in all aspects of my life - in school, at home, and on the court. Getting knocked down doesn’t matter, as long as you get back up and fight on. That’s what counts.