My cousin was 1 year younger than me. We grew up like brothers. We both played all sports and we were both good at all the sports. But we were both great at tennis. My cousin won the GA state singles championship as a senior in highschool.
Anyway when my parents realized that I was good enough to be coached take a shot at the pros, they hired a pro who was good at teaching but was an alcoholic. I took lessons from him and I was 12 the first time I beat him. He never beat me again. This was before I grew to 6-2 200 pounds. He told me that if I asserted myself that I would be guaranteed to have a life as at least a professional doubles player, making mid 6 figures and seeing the world, making a living playing tennis. He took me aside and made me understand that I did not want to waste this ability, that a 9-5 job or a life that he leads was pure hell.
When I turned 15 I discovered alcohol, drugs, and girls. My cousin was 14 and on his way to be one of the top 20 players in America. He also would end up growing to be 6-1 190 pounds, ideal tennis size. We both all but quit playing and went down the drugs path. He overdosed and died about 5 years ago at 26 years old.
I think back about the lives we could have led, if nothing else playing together, best friends, as a doubles team and living a dream life. Tennis players live a dream life.
I think about the day my coach told me that all the time, here I sit 32 years old, never done nothing with my life and have nothing but a lifetime full of regrets. I would give anything, just anything to go back to that day and take him seriously.
I think about stuff like this daily. But then I think about people who are paralyzed and horrible things like that and I am grateful. Thankful I am alive and have a chance to live out the 2nd part of my life.