Failure is The Stepping Stone to Success

  Panting…” breath in, breath out…” my head nagged at me, trying to calm myself.  the roaring sound of others surrounded me but I just had one goal in my brain. My hands were whipping on the hem of my shirt, my eyes setting on its goal. I had waited my whole life for this moment. I could only see the spark in my eyes of my younger self, staring at me with full admiration. At this moment, images of the past flashed through my head, I took a trip down memory lane.

  Four-year-old me started loving the idea of sports when my father brought me to one of his football practices. Although I never liked football, but the excitement on my father’s face when he flashed across the field was a sight I never want to forget. I was not the best in sports though. My life was controlled by my mother, to her, girls should be dancing in eye-catching leotards with big bows attached on their braided hairs. My beautifully flexed feet with long-stretched arms brings happiness into my mother’s life, but that was not who I am. Why I still do what I hated? This is because my mother was paralyzed at the age of twenty-five. She had just given birth to her first born the year before and she was a professional dancer. She was known to everyone from all walks of life and her comeback was supposed to be the talk of the year. That was exactly what happened, but, for the wrong reason.

  Just as my mother was doing her infamous Ariel step-back flip in her acrobatic routine, her foot slipped and she fell, it hit her right in the middle of her brain. She was rushed to the nearest hospital but was struck with the news that crushed all her hopes and dreams. She was paralyzed since then. With that she had been living her dream off of my life. I was forced into dance class when I just learned how to walk.  I did not know what was happening but the smile played on my mother’s face kept me going. Competitions, recitals, talent shows, you name it, I had been in them. I never liked this lifestyle and I was determined to change that in the year 2010.

  As I arrived at school, I was welcomed by the gossipy girls who I called my friends. They launched into torrential chatter and giggles while the basketball team made their way into the school. The majestic clock tower sounded, interrupting the students in mid-sentence. It was the starting of a new school year, new clubs, new students. I had always looked up to the brave and bold basketball team, they held records under their names and most of them were on the national team. During the registration for clubs, I clipped my way towards them. All of them were prating away with their holidays while I sneaked in my name into the list.

  My first basketball practice did not go as well as I thought it would be. I dithered onto the court with my physical education wear and stood alone at a corner. I did not know anyone and them gawking at me with their judging eyes were not helping at all. It was all okay at first but when it came to playing against one another, I was scared to death. Body contact had never bothered me but bumping into each other or playing rough was not what I was used to. I was called out in a heartbeat, being that I would not try to do any of the steps I had learned that day. The end of the training ended soon when the bell blared. I felt an instant relieve as I gathered my bag and dawdled my way out. I did not look where was I heading but a strong set of arms pushed me against the wall. My head hit the brick wall with a loud thump and I slowly made eye-contact with the person in-front of me.

  The captain of the team, Yee, had me pinned against the wall while her minions drugged through my bag. They pulled out my leotard, tap shoes, pointe shoes and my dress for the dance practice later. They threw it to the mud puddle beside them and stomped with their feet, I trashed and fought but Yee was too strong. Not only that, they had also thrown remarks at my face, “why are you here?” “go back to your pretty little studio, you don’t belong here!” “you’re not one of us! You don’t fit in with us!”, these were the things they shouted at my face. I did not know what I was feeling but my face burned with red and my fist clenched. When they had let go, I dropped to my knees and glared at the sky. What had I done to deserve this? From that day on, I vowed to prove them wrong.

  Ever since that faithful evening, I had a goal set into my mind. At this point, I told my mother about what I had joined, she was not the happiest camper but as long as I keep up the good work in my dancing, she did not care what I did outside of my studying time. I had to always try to walk with a steady gait into practice but I always ended up footslogging my way out. Extra practices on Saturdays and Sundays helped me. I poured my heart, blood, sweat and tears into it, all in the heart to prove that we can be what we want. I ran more laps, I did more rounds than any of my teammates did, I stayed back and shot hoops every day, I padded into the house every day after practice, in hopes that my mother does not see me like this, she would be disappointed.

  The day of proving myself came without warning. It was just like any other day where I did more training after school hours. My beloved coach came to me, with his hands touched my exposed shoulder, I was startled. He silently handed me an envelope and here I am from there. The newly built indoor basketball court stood like a proud father in the middle of the bustling streets of Manhattan. Puffing out his chest by throwing his doors wide opened. Here I am, in another foreign country, ‘ Malaysia ‘ wrote proudly on the back of my jersey.

  Time came back slowly and I was here again. With us being one point away from winning, I shot a three-pointer and in the hoop it went with a ‘swish’ sound. We had won champion that night and I proudly accepted my medal as the most potential player. “Failure is the stepping stone to success”, I stick to that till this very day, I never gave up.