I’ll be leaving in a few hours to go to Atlanta, Georgia. No, it’s not a big case or a snazzy conference. It’s the United States Fencing Association’s Summer Nationals Championship, where my son, an epee fencer, will be competing. It offers not only the opportunity to participate in a great sport, but a number of critical life lessons that will stay with him as he moves on to adulthood.
I’ve thought many times about the lessons he’s gained from fencing, and how they will distinguish him from many of his peers. This seems like a good time to share them with you.
1. Some win. Many lose.
Not everyone gets a trophy at the National Championship. It’s quite an honor to make the top 32 in the nation, and it’s extraordinarily difficult. In fact, it can be crushing to go down in defeat. But that’s how life works. One has to take defeat with the same grace as one takes victory.
2. Sportsmanship.
Fencing remains one of the few “gentlemen’s” sports. The fencers salute each other, the director and the audience before each bout. Should they reach a tie with one touch to go, they will salute each other again to honor the effort of their opponent, as the next touch will end the bout. Afterward, no matter who wins, they will shake hands. They will fence each other with the utmost intensity during the bout, focused solely on winning. There is no end-zone dance, no lashing out in anger, no hatred. There are two people who honor each other’s effort. After the handshake, there is often a hug between two people who have given their all.
3. Handling pressure.
These are the national championships. It doesn’t get any bigger, and for fencers who have fought just to be allowed the honor of qualifying for these games, the pressure to prevail is enormous. It requires great maturity to overcome the pressure, to calm oneself and focus at the task at hand, no matter how important it is. There will be plenty of time afterward to consider what was at stake, but when a fencer steps onto the strip, there is nothing to think about beyond the bout in front of him.
4. Perseverance.
The competition begins with pool bouts, where a group of fencers are formed and each must fence the others. Someone will lose the first pool bout. Someone will lose the first two pool bouts. It’s easy to give up, to believe that you’ve dug yourself into a hole from which you can’t escape. Persevering despite adversity won’t guarantee a win. Giving up will guarantee a loss.
5. Hard work.
None of the fencers who qualify for the national championships got there because of connections, good looks or whining. Every one of them worked long and hard to earn the right to compete. Many who worked hard did not make the cut, but everyone who does had to prove themselves on the piste. There is no other way to get there.
6. Sacrifice.
There are days when sitting in front of the television, playing video games, sleeping late, feel pretty darn good. But it takes a commitment to excellence that compels a fencer to push forward, to get off the couch and onto the strip. Not just when he feels like it, but when he knows he must maintain a practice and competition regimen if he wants to be capable of being competitive. No one forces him to get off the couch. It has to be his choice to sacrifice fun and comfort for something bigger. He knows that without it, he will not be worthy of fencing in the nationals. He is willing to make that sacrifice for the opportunity to achieve.
7. Personal pride.
In life, we can choose to try to be the best at something or blend into the crowd. This isn’t to say that we will achieve supremacy, but that we strive to do so. It’s invariably a matter of personal pride, an intrinsic decision that we will not be satisfied with ourselves for being one of the many. The desire to be the best at something pushes us to try harder, work harder, care more, focus more, push beyond what we think are our limits and break through the brick wall that separates the best from the others. No, it may not be achieved, but the personal pride needed to push a fencer to keep trying, to keep fighting, is what allows him to strive to become the best he can be. Never settle for less.
_________________________
Over the next week, I will be waking up early and fixing or fine tuning weapons. I will make sure uniforms are clean and safe. I will talk about strategy, both good and bad, to the extent he wants to hear it from me. I will do what I can to bring a fencer ready to win to the competition. Whether there will be any time to post at SJ is unknown at the moment. My son will be my priority and posting here will be a very distant second. His job is to fence his best. My job is to be the best father to him I can be.
I hope he does well. More than that, I hope he has fun and is proud of his effort. I am proud beyond words of my son.
Discover more from Simple Justice
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Welcome to Atlanta, Scott. I’m a criminal defense attorney here and a recent transplant from New York. I wish your son best of luck in the fencing competition. If you guys have some downtime, I would suggest visiting Manual’s Tavern on N. Highland Avenue, a true neighborhood bar in a time when such places are becoming increasingly scarce. Also, check out the Oakland Cemetery in Grant Park. You may also notice that contrary to the rosy reports of Atlanta as the next jewel of the South, the reality is quite the opposite: a lot of the city, predominantly the black community, remains mired in poverty and despair. Not unlike other big city’s, I suppose. In any event, enjoy your stay and have a pleasant time in Atlanta.
Good luck to the young fencer! Every kid should have a Dad like you!
Good luck not only to your son but to his parents, who must confront their own parental anxiety watching the offspring compete.
It’s really hard for me to read this sort of stuff from you without choking up. In a good way.
Best of luck to both of you.
Scott–I have met your son and we have talked of his fencing. You are both fortunate to have one another.Good luck to him and to your entire family, not only in fencing but in all of life.
Thanks BG. My son speaks of the first time he met you all the time. Not too many guys roar up the driveway on their hog.
Especially not blind guys!
Since you’re in downtown Atlanta, if you see her at the hotel (she still works at the fitness club), tell Nadine I am sorry that the check is late this month.