Ever since I can remember, I've always been pretty much the same. What matters to me has never really wavered. It's family first, friends second and then sports, sports and more sports. My personality has also remained constant. And why would I change who I am? Being a (self-proclaimed) social butterfly, rom-com lover and hopeless romantic has always been fun.
I mention these consistencies because recently I began imagining life-changing events and decisions. If I've always been the same, what were the moments that really defined me?
The answers came to me in a very spiritual, Thoreauvian kind of way. As I was sitting on a lounge chair with no cell phone service, looking out into the wilderness, I came to the conclusion that two events my father's passing when I was 13 and my college football recruitment have shaped me in a big way.
I'm not going to talk about number one too much today. My dad was the absolute king. I miss him and my beliefs, daily endeavors and personality are all direct reflections on the type of guy he was.
I do, however, want to take a dive into the story of how I ended up at Dartmouth, which was a terribly painful process. Before I became a washed-up cornerback for the Big Green, I actually was good at football.
In my senior year I was named to the all-CIF team as a sure-handed wide receiver. It's good to be confident, but it's not good to be cocky. And I took my prowess on the field for granted.
I thought that schools would come running after me. They didn't, but I didn't care because I thought I was a holding a royal flush in the form of the University of Pennsylvania, so I went all in. I went to their camp and killed it. The Penn coaches came to my house for breakfast, and liked my mom's cooking so much that they took the leftovers home. After receiving the invitation for an official visit, I wrongly assumed that I was going to close the deal.
They took another wide receiver instead, and the coaches decided to tell me while I was visiting Penn.
I really wanted to be a Quaker. My grandpa was a Wharton man. My high school, Harvard-Westlake, sends kids to Penn by the dozen. I like cities. And they have good food trucks. Basically everything I wanted. Needless to say, I was pretty shaken up when I heard the bad news.
I'm pretty sure Dan Patrick was talking about me when he famously said, "You can't stop him, you can only hope to contain him." I was playing college football somewhere, and that was final. When Penn rejected me, I had an offer from Lafayette College and an official visit to Dartmouth scheduled.
I didn't know anything about Dartmouth other than some weird bonfire tradition which was not viewed in high regard by my brother who had visited campus on an official tennis visit years earlier and that was all I knew about Hanover. My impression was more positive. The campus was beautiful and I found the town charming. So after taking a tour and meeting the coaches, I told myself going to Dartmouth wouldn't be that bad. And I thought I had the offer in the bag. The team was 0-10 the year before how could they not want me?
Once again, I was wrong and received no offer. I immediately called the coaches at Lafayette and committed.
But my Ivy League dreams were far from over. The night before I had to sign a letter of intent to play at Lafayette, Coach Teevens called me and extended the offer. And you guys know the rest of the story.
The reason I was thinking about this is because I'm heading to Penn for their version of Green Key, called "Spring Fling," this weekend. I'm excited to see what Penn has to offer. And more excited to tell them thank you. Thank you for not offering me a place on the football team. Thank you for letting me land at the coolest school in the country. A place where if I did change, it's only been for the better.
