I remember clearly the last time I cried. I was twelve years old, in the seventh grade, and I had tried out for the junior high school basketball team. I walked into the gym. There was a piece of paper on the wall.
It was a cut list. The boys whose names were on the list were welcome to keep on practicing. The boys whose names were not on the list had been cut. Their presence was no longer desired.
I had not known the cut was coming that day. I stood and stared at the list. The list had not been made with a great deal of consideration. The names of the best players were at the top, and the other members of the team were listed in what appeared to be a descending (下降的) order of basketball skills. I kept looking at the bottom of the list, hoping that my name would appear if I looked hard enough.
I held myself together as I walked out, bat when I got home I began to cry. For the first time in my life, I had been told officially that I wasn't good enough. Sports meant everything to boys of that age. If you were on the team, it put you in the desirable group. If you were not, you might as well not be alive.
All these years later, I remember it as if 1 were still standing right there in the gym. I don't know how the mind works in matters like this. I don't know what went on in my head following that day of cut. But I know that my determination has been so strong ever since then. I have known that for all my life since that day. I have done more work than I had to be doing and pat in 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—never to allow someone to tell me that I'm not good enough again—but I know it is there. And clearly it's there in a lot of other successful men too.
