I remember clearly the last time I cried. I was 12 years old, in the seventh grade, and I had 41 for the junior high school basketball team. I walked into the 42 ; there was a piece of paper on the wall.
It was a cut list. The boys whose names were on the list were 43 to keep on coming to 44 . The boys whose names were not on the list had been 45 ; their presence was no longer 46 .
I had not known the cut was coming that day. I stood and 47 at the list. The list had not been made with a great deal of 48 : the names of the very 49 players were at the top, and the other members of the team were listed in what appeared to be a descending (下降) order of basketball skills. I kept looking at the 50 of the list, 51 that my name would appear if I looked hard enough.
I 52 myself together as I walked out, but when I got home I began to 53 . For the first time in my life, I had been told 54 that I wasn’t good enough. Sports meant 55 to athletic people at that age; if you were on the team, it put you in the desirable group. If you were not, you 56 as well not be alive.
All these years later, I remember it 57 I were still standing right there in the gym. I don’t know how the 58 works in matters like this; I don’t know what went on in my head following that day. But I know that my 59 has been so strong ever since then; I know that for all of my life since that day, I have done more work than I had to be doing, and 60 more hours than I had to be spending. I don’t know if all of that came from a determination never to allow myself to be cut again --- but I know it’s there. And clearly it’s there in a lot of other successful people too.
