When The Best Coaches Hit The Benches

I’ve never been good in any form of sports. I was the weird kid who played alone, imagining all sorts of things. One of the earliest memories I have of my childhood was playing with this mound of sand in front of our then apartment. I was alone. I was happy being alone with my thoughts.

Perhaps one of the oddities of being a kid like me was that all my thoughts were in English. It was so natural to me. I was hooked on Sesame Street. Maybe that was why no one would play with me. Maybe I gave them a look that says, how come you seem to have thoughts so different from mine? At that age I knew I was different and I wasn’t meant to conform.

I wouldn’t consider myself an introvert. Yes I do like to work independently and yes I do get issues when I work with a group (who, often than not, I end up owning). I’m not the type who would eventually author a self-help book.

I always thought that I don’t really need anyone to validate me. Never expected anyone to give me a hand when I obviously needed one. I was happy being ignored. I was happy being who I am. Happy watching people watch in (what I think is) amazement at how I live my life and how it seems so easy for me to dispense advice on what to do for every situation. I always thought I was a natural leader. You know, the one people run to. The one who will point the way. To some extent, I think I played that role quite well. People see me as an opinion leader, someone whose words matter. 

Funny how things change. The guy who didn’t need validation feels like giving in to seemingly mundane challenges, pointless heartaches and vague feelings of sadness. I don’t know. It just creeps in. It’s not like a big yellow bus.

I’m happy I made some people happy. That’s one thing I think I do well. I always know what to say, what to do so that I get the reaction I wanted. 

Now in times like this, when the bringer of fire feels extinguished, who to go to? It’s not easy feeling alone in a roomful of people. It’s not easy feeling deprived when so much has been given already. It’s not easy feeling like you’ve been reduced to something you know you’re not – a pathetic, needy guy. 

I’m not baring my soul, because I think there is no soul here to begin with.

I’m not emo. I’m just sad. Generally sad. Sad in general over general things. Sad over silly things. Maybe it’s because of every bad thing that happened this week. Maybe it’s because of I’m just crazy. 

I guess this is what happens when you didn’t get a simple public “thank you” from one person who’s not even supposed to have a hold on you. Surprise, coach. Bet you didn’t expect that.

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