Success Comes in Cans

I am always doing things I can't do, that's how I get to do them. - Pablo Picasso

I had split sets with my opponent during the finals of a California Juniors tennis tournament. A smoggy Los Angeles day, typical of the 1960's, the temperature crept into the 80's. We had a fifteen minute break before the final set that would determine the tournament winner.

Playing in heat always became my challenge but I stayed with a player above me in overall skills.  Head achy, face splotchy, I felt each breath shorten and send daggers in my chest. I could taste the dense air.

My father took me inside to air conditioning and placed a cooling cloth on my forehead. 

"I can't breathe," I sputtered, " I can't do this."

"Drink more water," he urged.  "You know can't isn't in the dictionary."

"Words. Words. Words. Give me a break . . ."  I pushed my chair away from him. Stomping to the window, I could feel anger invade my brain.  What good would this torture accomplish?  Another hour for what?

"You've come a long way today.  Just outlast her and don't think of the result," his words fluttered over as my ears closed.

Attitude meant everything to my father.  Where was his doting sympathy? Why didn't he understand that I should walk away and default? His lack of acceptance of my "state" flooded me with an intensity I'll never forget.  

Grrrrr. OK. If you don't think you can make it, fake it seemed to run through my frazzle of a brain.

Back on the court, I kept going, one hit after another. Time wore on and I could feel my opponent's fatigue.  It energized me as I kept up with the second top seeded player in my age group. 

When my final shot ticked just outside the baseline to end the game, my opponent and I stood and stared at each other for a moment, drenched in sweat and gratitude for the conclusion.  When we approached the net, she shook my hand and said something to the tune of how my confidence had nearly unhinged her. 

I didn't win the match but awarded myself a W over my self-doubts.  That gift of a day's experience has accompanied me into other areas of life.  It continues to befriend me in life's wins and losses.

Of course I looked up "can't" in the dictionary.  Yes, my father was correct back then; it did not exist.  Years later I discovered a small can with the label, "Success Comes in Cans"  to relaunch memories if I feel the "can'ts" coming on.  

Creative Write:  Recall a time of self-doubt.  What did you do to get beyond the can'ts?  Write about your can of success!