(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)
While screaming vulgarities at a college football game on TV from a box seat on my couch, the sudden notion of how young the players were hit me. I then realized that I may have to accept that my window of opportunity was shut and it would be wise to retire from pursuing my own professional sports career. I am no longer a spring chicken and it takes many more fingers to count back to the year I graduated from college as opposed to the number I tend to believe.
It’s clear, now that I reside in my upper lower thirties that I am probably a tiny tiny bit past my prime. I know that as of yet I haven’t revealed any potential whatsoever in professional sports, but c'mon, lots of times while eating reduced fat potato chips, I thought there is no reason why that can’t be me. I remember many times being stretched out on the living room sofa swishing balled up napkins into the kitchen garbage hoop (pail) or how I am always dodging and spinning by motionless defenders (commuters or shoppers) as I walk up an escalator.
Wait a second! I am in magnificent shape and have the reflexes of a cat. At that precise moment it seemed asinine as to why I didn’t come to this obvious conclusion years earlier.
Next, after convincing myself I am still youthful with my physical prime ahead of me, I began to negotiate rapid ways to advance to elite professional status. With some slight fudging of the numbers, I was able to determine several routes as long as I concentrate and start training immediately following this freshly popped beer. I want to be a sports superstar but not an environmentally unfriendly one with wasteful tendencies.
One road originates with me trying out for a neighborhood team and climbing up the ranks to the big leagues. Another option is enrolling at a local community college for a second major in communications or astrophysics and using intramural sports as a stepping stone. I assume either avenue would quickly lead to me dominating because of my unique combination of skill, hustle and heart. Talent scouts would then start flocking to view my matches and within months, I would be on the verge of signing a multimillion dollar contract.
A few seconds later cold hard reality appeared in the form of a pushup. As I dropped to do one, my body informed me that it was not in cooperation of this plan. There was no way in hell the above sequence of events was occurring and coincidence was not the reason my place is on the bleachers instead of playing on the field. My motivation deteriorated and my roller coaster ride of becoming a professional athlete had concluded. I strolled back to the fridge for another beer because my previous plan consisted of chugging the last one in order to start training.
Unfortunately, in due time I’d end up revisiting my athletic urge by watching something like Olympic bobsledding or World’s Greatest Shark Hunters. Severe doubt would then overwhelm my previous assessment and I would reflect “Why was I such an idiot last season?” I then persuade myself all over again to become a world class athlete, but to make up for lost time, switch to an unpopular sport with fewer competitors.
Eventually, lack of exercise and irrational blame of poor genetics inherited from my parents triumph. Thus the cycle circles again. I quit my shortened badminton career, store newly purchased birdies in the garage and have familiar feeling of disappointment.
With that being said, I am finally laying my reoccurring dream to rest and am announcing my official retirement from professional sports. I’ll weep today, but tomorrow I’ll turn over a brand new leaf and spend time pursuing more plausible goals. No more silly distractions about being the next homerun king, Vienza trophy winner or curling champion. I will shift my attention to writing this literary masterpiece, starring in a blockbuster film as a rock guitar legend and as the final act in my elder age, becoming the first unanimously elected US president.
On the side, I may dabble in adult film making as well and take some astronaut training courses but that’s a little much for my pallet right now. I am not ruling out performing in an adult film on the moon, but I am not going to put emphasis on that feat now. Perhaps I’ll test several actresses’ credibility on a huge air mattress in my spare time but that of course will not be my main focus.
Anyway, by announcing that I withdraw from the world of sports, I’m able to narrow down my to-do list and make it much more feasible to accomplish. If I have an unmanageable amount tasks lined up, I usually skip them all and take a nap. It’s a quite similar situation at my job when my boss wants a special project finished, the compliance officer demands a report to be more within “regulation standards” and the secretary needs the use of my bulging muscles to move heavy file boxes. I’ll think to myself, you know what, there is no way I can accomplish all of that in the requested allotment of time so it’s totally unfair for me to pick one and play favorites. The only logical and unbiased thing to do is, to do none of it.
Okay, I am ready to announce to the world that I am finally retiring from professional athletics. To generate enough publicity for an actual press conference I may have to expand on the truth, be on every street corner handing out fliers and chose a location near a crowded intersection, but I will do it. It is worth the effort so I can make everything official to my mind, friends and scouting agents. It would eliminate all of my annoying flip flopping. I have already rehearsed an opening statement and it would most likely sound like this….
“I want to first thank you all for setting aside precious time from your busy schedules and joining me today. I have gathered you all here to announce that I am gracefully stepping down from every single competitive professional sport.” Then after a brief pause at the podium to compose myself and wipe a tear away with a handkerchief, “This has been an extremely difficult decision for me to make and I have thought it over countless times in my head. With the support of my loving family and friends who are here with me, I believe that the correct choice has been made. I will now direct my full attention to the crowd to answer a select few intimate questions in the limited time remaining.”
Then I would field the typical press conference questions such as… Who are you? How did you know the press would be stuck in traffic here? Can you explain again who you are? Can you please promise to never make a comeback? Have you ever compared your physical build to that of an athlete? Are those hired actors over there portraying your family cause these obviously have superior genes?
I am confident that with some quick thinking and a little guidance from my agent (am in negotiations with a pretend one) I’ll gently steer the conversation towards how I am in the middle of transitioning to a career in writing as well as many other non-athletic agendas. Of course I don’t want people fearing that my next move is disappearing from the public spotlight in order to spend more time with my family. My folks already see me enough and aren’t craving any bonus occasions.
I want everyone assured that this is far from the last of Pete Lopez. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply because I keep retiring from dream occupations I never had a chance of fulfilling or because I have a fairly generic name. It takes a big man to finally admit when it’s time to turn away from something that he loves. It’s never classy to linger around after your time us up. The best thing for me to do is keep my dignity and walk away before I am beaten. There are so many other things left for me to conquer.
It’s clear, now that I reside in my upper lower thirties that I am probably a tiny tiny bit past my prime. I know that as of yet I haven’t revealed any potential whatsoever in professional sports, but c'mon, lots of times while eating reduced fat potato chips, I thought there is no reason why that can’t be me. I remember many times being stretched out on the living room sofa swishing balled up napkins into the kitchen garbage hoop (pail) or how I am always dodging and spinning by motionless defenders (commuters or shoppers) as I walk up an escalator.
Wait a second! I am in magnificent shape and have the reflexes of a cat. At that precise moment it seemed asinine as to why I didn’t come to this obvious conclusion years earlier.
Next, after convincing myself I am still youthful with my physical prime ahead of me, I began to negotiate rapid ways to advance to elite professional status. With some slight fudging of the numbers, I was able to determine several routes as long as I concentrate and start training immediately following this freshly popped beer. I want to be a sports superstar but not an environmentally unfriendly one with wasteful tendencies.
One road originates with me trying out for a neighborhood team and climbing up the ranks to the big leagues. Another option is enrolling at a local community college for a second major in communications or astrophysics and using intramural sports as a stepping stone. I assume either avenue would quickly lead to me dominating because of my unique combination of skill, hustle and heart. Talent scouts would then start flocking to view my matches and within months, I would be on the verge of signing a multimillion dollar contract.
A few seconds later cold hard reality appeared in the form of a pushup. As I dropped to do one, my body informed me that it was not in cooperation of this plan. There was no way in hell the above sequence of events was occurring and coincidence was not the reason my place is on the bleachers instead of playing on the field. My motivation deteriorated and my roller coaster ride of becoming a professional athlete had concluded. I strolled back to the fridge for another beer because my previous plan consisted of chugging the last one in order to start training.
Unfortunately, in due time I’d end up revisiting my athletic urge by watching something like Olympic bobsledding or World’s Greatest Shark Hunters. Severe doubt would then overwhelm my previous assessment and I would reflect “Why was I such an idiot last season?” I then persuade myself all over again to become a world class athlete, but to make up for lost time, switch to an unpopular sport with fewer competitors.
Eventually, lack of exercise and irrational blame of poor genetics inherited from my parents triumph. Thus the cycle circles again. I quit my shortened badminton career, store newly purchased birdies in the garage and have familiar feeling of disappointment.
With that being said, I am finally laying my reoccurring dream to rest and am announcing my official retirement from professional sports. I’ll weep today, but tomorrow I’ll turn over a brand new leaf and spend time pursuing more plausible goals. No more silly distractions about being the next homerun king, Vienza trophy winner or curling champion. I will shift my attention to writing this literary masterpiece, starring in a blockbuster film as a rock guitar legend and as the final act in my elder age, becoming the first unanimously elected US president.
On the side, I may dabble in adult film making as well and take some astronaut training courses but that’s a little much for my pallet right now. I am not ruling out performing in an adult film on the moon, but I am not going to put emphasis on that feat now. Perhaps I’ll test several actresses’ credibility on a huge air mattress in my spare time but that of course will not be my main focus.
Anyway, by announcing that I withdraw from the world of sports, I’m able to narrow down my to-do list and make it much more feasible to accomplish. If I have an unmanageable amount tasks lined up, I usually skip them all and take a nap. It’s a quite similar situation at my job when my boss wants a special project finished, the compliance officer demands a report to be more within “regulation standards” and the secretary needs the use of my bulging muscles to move heavy file boxes. I’ll think to myself, you know what, there is no way I can accomplish all of that in the requested allotment of time so it’s totally unfair for me to pick one and play favorites. The only logical and unbiased thing to do is, to do none of it.
Okay, I am ready to announce to the world that I am finally retiring from professional athletics. To generate enough publicity for an actual press conference I may have to expand on the truth, be on every street corner handing out fliers and chose a location near a crowded intersection, but I will do it. It is worth the effort so I can make everything official to my mind, friends and scouting agents. It would eliminate all of my annoying flip flopping. I have already rehearsed an opening statement and it would most likely sound like this….
“I want to first thank you all for setting aside precious time from your busy schedules and joining me today. I have gathered you all here to announce that I am gracefully stepping down from every single competitive professional sport.” Then after a brief pause at the podium to compose myself and wipe a tear away with a handkerchief, “This has been an extremely difficult decision for me to make and I have thought it over countless times in my head. With the support of my loving family and friends who are here with me, I believe that the correct choice has been made. I will now direct my full attention to the crowd to answer a select few intimate questions in the limited time remaining.”
Then I would field the typical press conference questions such as… Who are you? How did you know the press would be stuck in traffic here? Can you explain again who you are? Can you please promise to never make a comeback? Have you ever compared your physical build to that of an athlete? Are those hired actors over there portraying your family cause these obviously have superior genes?
I am confident that with some quick thinking and a little guidance from my agent (am in negotiations with a pretend one) I’ll gently steer the conversation towards how I am in the middle of transitioning to a career in writing as well as many other non-athletic agendas. Of course I don’t want people fearing that my next move is disappearing from the public spotlight in order to spend more time with my family. My folks already see me enough and aren’t craving any bonus occasions.
I want everyone assured that this is far from the last of Pete Lopez. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply because I keep retiring from dream occupations I never had a chance of fulfilling or because I have a fairly generic name. It takes a big man to finally admit when it’s time to turn away from something that he loves. It’s never classy to linger around after your time us up. The best thing for me to do is keep my dignity and walk away before I am beaten. There are so many other things left for me to conquer.
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