When I was about 12 I had some pretty optimistic goals. Specifically, a couple of them were “Be Buff!” and “Play in the NBA.” If you know me, you know I didn’t achieve the latter (and no comment about the former). But I loved basketball, so when I started high school I tried out for the freshman basketball team. And I made the team! (they didn’t cut anyone). I was even good enough to have a front row seat on the bench at every single game, all season long.
Maybe it was because my Reebok Pump shoes didn’t perform as advertised. Or maybe it was because I was about as good at jumping as I was at sprinting. Or maybe it was because I didn’t grow into my current towering height of six-foot-negative-two-inches until my senior year. But for whatever reason, I stank.
So I never made it to the NBA – but that’s ok. Looking back, I can see that my goals changed, and I ended up achieving much more important goals – I’m a husband and a father, and nothing could bring me more happiness than that. So if one of my boys ever comes to me and says he wants to play in the NBA, I’ll sit him down and tell him that I’ll support him in whatever goals he wants, but he might consider having some goals that are a little less superficial – like “Being Buff!”