I come from dreams, drive, and diligence—

discouragement, disappointment, and defeat.

I come from 800 mile car rides to steamy southern Georgia—

traffic and headaches.

I come from passion, perseverance, and concentration—

letdown and regret stemming from recurring failure.

I come from bouncing balls against the freezing basement wall

tranquil and sedative.

I come from cool late-night bike rides around downtown Hartland

quiet and relaxing.

I come from early-morning feasts followed by prayer

peaceful and calming.               

I come from tidy cupboards filled with clean plates and bowls—

carefully washed and polished.

I come from dark wood trim along curved staircases—

fancy and stylish.

I come from shiny white tile lining the kitchen floor—

mopped and cleaned daily.

I come from hopes of being the greatest,

ignoring signs that say otherwise.

I come from the doubt and skepticism that a small-town Midwestern athlete receives,

using the doubts as motivation.

I come from being the underdog,

fighting against the odds and overcoming adversity.

I come from dreams, drive, and diligence—

discouragement, disappointment, and defeat.