Clavicles May Break, But the Soul Never Dies by Kevin

Clavicles May Break, But the Soul Never Dies by Kevin - November 2013 Scholarship Essay

When I was a kid, I always hoped that I would never break a bone. I always wanted to be able to proudly declare that I had never broken a bone in my life. But all of that changed one day, which provided me with the most valuable lesson I learned in high school.

Everything started in junior year. The first week of school, I had high hopes of dominating in football—interceptions, touchdowns, and wins. I had been preparing very diligently starting in January. But one day my over-zealousness got the better of me. We went outside to play Ultimate Frisbee during weights class instead of lifting. We used a football, so I wanted to practice my catching abilities. I was diving left and right for balls, making circus catch after circus catch. Then it happened: I dove for a ball, landed funny on my arm, heard a snap, and felt the pain. I walked to the sideline in obvious pain but trying to play it off. Well, my act worked; the gym teacher didn’t notice until I told him I needed to go to the clinic. People told me it looked broken, but I thought there was no way it was broken; it did not hurt enough.

It turned out that I broke my collarbone. Done for the season before I played a game. I was more than disappointed; I was downright devastated—for about a day. My first thought as I walked out of the hospital was, “I can and will come back from this.” I focused on next year right away. I still went to practice everyday, watching, observing, learning. The four weeks in the sling were the hardest; I was itching to do anything football-related. I wanted to come back from this.
Finally I could take the sling off. That was the best feeling in the world. Even though I had nothing to train for, I wanted to do everything I could to be the best. With time, I was able to do more. From drills and running to more elaborate workouts, then at last, after the season, I could lift again; I did it all eagerly and with focus for this year. And because of all of that extra work, I have come back this season infinitely better than I was, and much more equipped for what may lie ahead.

People told me during the entire experience that if it had been them who had broken one of their collarbones, they would not have gone to practice or worked out—let alone cared. I always told them that the passion in my soul cannot die; I could not just walk away. But I learned some things along the way. I learned that pain is only as bad as you make it. I learned that hard work really does pay off in the end. I learned that I can do anything I set my mind to. But most importantly, I learned that my soul cannot be hurt by mere physical or emotional pain.