After finishing the last game of my senior football season, I returned to Virginia Tech. Our team had just finished playing a University of Miami team captained by Jim Kelly in the 1981 Peach Bowl, one of the four bowl games played on New Year’s Day. It was a sold-out crowd with a national television audience in the millions. It was the perfect way to wind up my college football career.
I had been a key player on that team, and I was feeling pretty good about myself as I went into the athletic dormitory that day. All this quickly changed when I opened the door to my room and found two freshmen walk-ons occupying the space. All I could manage to say was, “Where’s my stuff?” The frightened players pointed me to a janitor’s closet in the hallway. I opened the door to find all of my worldly possessions thrown in a pile.
Talk about going from the penthouse to the outhouse – my eligibility for the team had expired after my last game, and now I was out on the street. I had to store my possessions – and myself – in the back of a friend’s car for two weeks while I found a place to live. My former teammates had a ball with it, dubbing me “Jed Clampett” after the character from the Beverly Hillbillies.
Pat Riley, in his book The Winner Within, calls these moments in life “thunderbolts.” You feel like you are on top of the world, and then a thunderbolt jolts you flat onto your back.
Life has taught me that these thunderbolts are inevitable, and will usually strike when you least expect them. It’s how we react to the thunderbolts that will determine our paths in life.
Have a great weekend,
Ro