Gratitude

I showed up in Jackson, Mississippi and signed a contract, the terms of which included pay equivalent to a first-year teacher’s salary, provided I made and remained on the team.  Though I was happy with the prospect of getting paid to do what I still loved to do, play football, other players had envisioned much larger pay checks.

Training camp was held at Camp Shelby, an armed forces joint training center outside of Hattiesburg, Mississippi. We slept in a “squad bay” (a whole team’s worth of cots in one big room) and although there were group showers and restrooms, our sleeping quarters doubled as our locker room. We used the base parade field as our football field and ate at the base galley, where the food was not great. Even if fans wanted to come watch practice, they would have had to get past the armed guards at the front gate. 

Because many of the athletes had played for successful FBS programs (most in the SEC), and some had even played a few years in the NFL where they had experienced an altogether different camp atmosphere, they were accustomed to immaculate facilities and generous training meals. Admittedly, I was surprised by the conditions, but my teammates were appalled and many complained to the team administration. I quietly reminded myself that I was happy to have this opportunity and demonstrated my appreciation through my effort on the practice field. 

In hindsight, having a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to play football gave me a huge psychological advantage. I expended my thoughts and energy toward improving and contributing to the team’s effort, whereas others were distracted by their egos and sense of entitlement, which ultimately, helped me work my way up the depth chart to become the starting tight end for the Mississippi Pride. 

I was naïve enough to think that the shortcuts being taken in the preseason were a money saving technique to ensure the owners could cover player salaries, but we all soon realized how tight the margins were. After the first home game we were brought in the following day and told that because ticket sales hadn’t been large enough to pay our salaries, our contracts were void. Furthermore, since they were not guaranteed, players who opposed the new terms would simply be released. Instead of stewing over the fact that the contract was not going to be honored and my pay would be a fraction of what we had initially agreed upon, I was grateful for having no dependents or debt as well as for sharing a house and a car with a roommate, both of which were paid for by the team. The money that I was paid covered more than my living expenses (in fact, I had saved several checks and sent them home to a local bank where weeks later I found they had all bounced!). While other guys struggled immensely with these shifts in compensation, I was in a position where I could continue to enjoy developing my gifts and talents in pursuit of a passion.  

We ended 4-4 in our shortened season but I felt fortunate to have had the opportunity to improve both physically and mentally by playing against bigger, stronger, and faster players than I had in college, most of whom came from SEC programs and had also contributed to NFL franchises. 

Can we stop complaining, blaming, and criticizing?  What are we grateful for? We can’t be bitter and grateful at the same time. – Spiral up