Out of Failure & Defeat comes Triumph

Despite just beginning my fall pre-season, I already love the grind.  This first week in Florida has been a whirlwind of activity–with constant on-court training, yoga, meditation, and gym workouts keeping me busy the majority of the day.  Though it has taken some getting used to, the Florida heat and inescapable humidity are crucial in preparing me for the intense Vietnam climate I will be facing at the end of October. Even though I have my anxieties about leaving friends and family, I find reassurance in the knowledge that I am pursuing my passion.  Stepping into a complete unknown is a scary feeling, but my passion and love for tennis continues to guide me.

I constantly think about all of my amazing friends who have great jobs all over the country. I know that one day I will hopefully be lucky enough to get a great job, but in the interim I view this next year as a period of self-discovery, international travel, exploration, and opening myself up to welcoming the unknown.

I want to share a quote from a friend and former professional tennis player who reminded me recently “The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do.”

This quote resonates with me, as I strongly believe that no one beside yourself should define your limits.  While I can admit that I have failed numerous times throughout my life, I have not let these events act as barriers for personal improvement.  Instead, I have always strived to use them as opportunities to learn and grow. 

A story comes to mind dating back to my freshman fall semester as Claremont McKenna College (CMC) back in 2013. I was lucky enough to get accepted to CMC, which was my first choice school for a multitude of reasons such as an incredible tennis program, strong academics, and beautiful campus. I knew going into my Freshman year that I was not the top recruit from my class, but nonetheless I thought I would just be able to cruise onto the team. Oh boy was I wrong! I looked around at some upperclassman on my team who somehow were able to go out and party then still perform at an immensely high level. My naive Freshman self thought I could be just like them. I figured I could do it all: academics, party, sports, and run a business. After a very disappointing fall tennis season in which I won a total of zero challenge matches and had many dismal performances, my coach called me into his office the last week of fall semester and proceeded to cut me before the spring season started.

I NEVER had been cut from anything tennis related in my life. I will never forget trying to hold back tears as I walked out of his office knowing I would not be joining some of my teammates, who had become my best friends, that coming spring. My immediate response was a mix of anger, confusion, and disappointment. I remember thinking about all the programs that recruited me heavily and saying to myself “I should just transfer somewhere else that wants me.”

I proceeded to call my dad a few minutes after leaving the tennis center and just broke down crying. I could not keep it together and was an absolute mess on the verge of transferring. After he calmed me down, he asked me one key question: “Alex can you look yourself in the mirror and say you gave 100% effort to your tennis and fully applied yourself this fall?”

Pausing for a second to look back on my experience with tennis that fall, I answered “No.”  My dad then gave me advice I will never forget: “Don’t change your mind on something until you’ve given it all you’ve got.”  He then said something that was even harder to hear, “Your coach did you a favor by cutting you–I would have done the same thing.  If this is what you really want, you have to prove yourself to the coach and make the necessary sacrifices.” I simply responded, “Dad, you’re right.”

Shortly after this conversation, I fell into a bit of a depressed state taking almost a month off tennis with zero desire to pick up a racket. Because tennis has been such a large part of my life, I felt as if a key part of my identity had been stripped away from me.  I truly felt lost and confused.  One weekend, my brother came down to visit.  Upon seeing me, he immediately realized something was not quite right and asked if I wanted to play tennis.  Even though I was reluctant, we went down to the tennis courts.  After a few minutes, he turned to me and asked, “Alex, what happened to the hungry and fiery tennis player I used to know you as!”  After that hit, I realized how much I had missed tennis and, more importantly, how large a part of my life it was.

Throughout the rest of my Freshman spring semester, I scheduled hits every day of the week with anyone willing to play with me as my former teammates were all busy with team practices. Nothing felt more embarrassing or awkward than walking by them down to the lower courts day after day as they practiced up above me. I did not let ego or judgment get in the way and put one foot in front of another.

Striving to get better each day, I found motivation through my desire to prove myself to my former teammates and coaches.  However, I found the strongest motivator to be my desire to prove to myself that I have what it takes to be the best possible tennis player I could be.

I continued my training by signing up for tournaments all over southern California.  Whether it was borrowing a friend’s car, renting a Zip Car, or even taking an Uber, I would find a way to compete in a tournament almost every weekend.  While many of my friends were either partying or playing matches for the CMS team, I was alone at tournament after tournament. That entire spring I had this fire burning within me as I constantly thought about never wanting to get cut again from a team in my life, but more importantly wanting to make the team my Sophomore year. 

I slowly started having more and more success and actually begun winning matches and making some deep runs in a few tournaments that spring, which caught the attention of my coaches. I continued to stay in my lane riding solo and then took that summer to train intensely. 

At the end of my sophomore fall semester, my nine months of hard-work and determination paid off.  I made the CMS team and was finally reunited with my teammates and coaches.  Unable to contain my emotions and excitement, I actually teared up.  Yet I knew that just because I had made the team did not mean that my work was over.  With the goal of making the starting lineup, I continued to work hard and push myself, mentally and physically.  Even though I was not able to make the starting lineup every match, I was honored to have earned both the Most Improved Player Award that fall and a spot on the NCAA Regional 9-player team.

Ever since that one hit with my brother early Freshman spring, I have set out to try and be the hardest working tennis player I can be. I will end with one last quote that I have come to realize “you are your only limit”.