You Can Have My Job
You can have my job. But the truth is you don’t really want it that bad. It sure looks nice. It sure sounds nice. But you want the shortcut. You want me to give it to you.
You can have it, but you’re going to have to take it. I’m not just going to give it to you. From what I can tell, most people are too worried about things that don’t really matter, and the rest aren’t really willing to do what it takes. I don’t have much to worry about.
Before, I was always hoping someone would hire me. I applied for so many basketball jobs and got so very few of them. Every basketball job I ever got, I never applied for it. I use the word “job” loosely because most people wouldn’t work the jobs that I’ve worked. I never saw it as a sacrifice. I always saw it as the opportunity to do what I love, no matter the cost. It’s not right or wrong, it’s just the truth. The problem with all of these situations (whether I got the job or not) is that success or failure to get the job or in the job was dependent on so many other factors. I don’t fit in that world. When things go wrong, I want to be able to fix them. Most people want to be hired because it’s safer. They can always point the finger at someone else. Maybe it is someone else’s fault when things go wrong. Maybe it’s not. In this job, I bet on myself. When it goes wrong, it’s on me. But I can figure it out because I’m the reason it failed.
Most of you want someone else to bet on you. I wanted that too, but not anymore. You can have that life. I mess up every day. I know I do. I’m ok with that because, at the end of the day, I’ll figure it out.
If no one hires me, it means all my choices are my own. It means there’s only one person I can blame when things don’t go right. When it all falls apart, it’s all on me. When you’ve worked like I’ve worked, sacrificed as I’ve sacrificed, failed as I’ve failed, you’ll have my job. Until you’ve experienced winning the way I’ve experienced winning, you really have no idea what it’s about and you just want my job. What I could have done is irrelevant. What I should have done is a waste of energy. What I would have done makes me someone I’m not. I am who I am. I have done what I’ve done, good or bad, right or wrong.
Tomorrow could be a disaster. A cardboard box is certainly a possibility. Here’s the thing, when you’ve worked, sacrificed, and failed as I have, a cardboard box isn’t that scary, because when you win as I’ve won, it’s worth every risk. Even if I lose, I’ll figure out a way to win again.