There was a documentary on last night about this guy. Oscar Pistorius, as some of you know, is a crazy fast runner from South Africa. The only twist is that he has no legs. If you've ever seen this guy run it's insane. What this kid has had to overcome just to be able to walk, never mind become one of the faster runners on the planet, just blows me away. It makes me think twice about bitching when I have to walk the dogs. Focus: What's your most inspirational sports story?
There are so many that I turn to for inspiration when I'm feeling dreary or like I have it bad and life has got me down. I'll just touch on a few. Michael Vick. This is quite the uplifting story. Just when things looked really down and out for Mike, he was indicted, looking at prison time, and perhaps losing his career, you figured, no way he'll ever come back. It's like an afterschool special. After declaring bankruptcy, getting released under house arrest, and hiring a PR firm, he lands a job with the Eagles for a paltry $1.2 million. Still, he pursued his dream. He managed to actually make it on the field for a total of about 35 seconds this season and contribute mightily to the Eagles. So much so, they unanimously awarded him the Ed Block award for 'courage.' But not to be outdone, Mike humbly suggested that what he had been through, 95% of America hadn't been through. The amount of humility in this statement is inspirational. Probably 99.9% of Americans haven't been to jail for beating, electrocuting and drowning dogs for their entertainment. But did Mike let that keep him down? Not at all. He fought through adversity and looks to be back on the brink of a lucrative NFL career. Alex Rodriguez. Just when I start to think, 'you know, I probably shouldn't lie to a Judge or opposing counsel because it could cost me my case' I think of ARod, and he guides me to the light. This poor guy was one of the most highly touted prospects in the history of baseball. Do you have any idea what kind of pressure that is? All the expectations, all the multimillion dollar deals. The amount of pressure he was under was crushing. Yet, through it all he managed to be less than mediocre when it counted: the playoffs. But he rose above. He admitted cheating through the use of PEDs. But he came clean, banged Madonna and some stripper, got divorced and showed us all that sometimes, you just have to muscle through and keep your eyes on the prize if you want to succeed. Never let little things like the rules and honor get in the way, the promised land goes to those who are willing to lie, steal and cheat their way to it. Very uplifting. Shawn Merriman. After a tough injury, he fights his way back to an altercation with Tia Tequila. He clearly knew what we didn't, Tia must be stopped before she kills. Ooops. Too late. But Shawn's another guy that exemplifies honor and integrity over adversity. After some pesky test showed that he - whoops - took some supplements that he wasn't supposed to, he still managed to go to the pro-bowl. To quote his teammate, Ladanian Tomlinson: "If you ain't cheatin', you ain't trying.' Oh, that was about Bill Belichick. Tiger Woods. Lately, he's been my idol, my guiding light, if you will. Whenever I think 'wow, that's a nice ass on that chick,' and the chick is not my wife, I think 'Would Tiger let this get in his way?' Fuck no. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get the picture of my wife wielding a nine iron in her hands trying to wrap it around my head. I just don't have the courage that Tiger does I guess. Or the foresight to get my wife to divorce me by having naughty text messages on my phone. Yes, as a lawyer, I only need look to my favorite, inspirational sports' heroes to see that doing things on the up and up is no recipe for success. Guys in my league just want it more badly than I do. And here I am, stuck, working my ass off, playing by the rules, and barely making ends meet. If only I were more like these guys, I could have it all.
Derek Redmond at the 1992 Olympics. He was one of the favorites for the 400m gold medal until he tore a hamstring on the back straightaway. Watch this or any of the related videos for the rest.
Focus: That's easy. It's Pete Reiser, the ORIGINAL Pistol Pete who played for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1940's. Let me tell you a few things about ol' Pistol Pete, the most heartful psychopath ever to play the game: - In the days when outfield walls were made of solid concrete, Reiser ran full speed into it ELEVEN TIMES. He once fractured his skull doing it, and still managed to throw a guy out (Willie Mays said he had nothing on Reiser's arm). He was once paralyzed from running head-first into a wall while making a catch. He hit the wall so hard in the World Series that a priest gave him Last Rites on the field. He finished the game and won World Series MVP. He batted .380 that year. -Took time off from the Dodgers to serve two tours of Duty in World War II. When he was injured during the war and could no longer use his right to throw, he learned to throw with his left arm. -After the war in 1946 he played with a broken ankle for weeks. During this painful bout, he stole ten bases and hit an in the park homerun. He also stole home SEVEN TIMES that season. Did I mention this guy was a fucking alternate catcher, too? Pete Reiser, you are my all-time sports hero, and a baseball player of all things. Suck on that, Matt Giger you big fucking pussy.
This kid grew up in my neighborhood. I was friends with his older brother. <a class="postlink" href="http://www.couragecanada.ca/about.htm" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;">http://www.couragecanada.ca/about.htm</a> One day... he just started to go blind. Recently, after 111 days, 5000 km, he crossed the finish line after rollerblading from Toronto to Vancouver. "On behalf of all Canadians living with or without disability, Mark’s “Quest to the West” was to prove that although he is blind, he can still skate."
Everyone featured in Murderball. These guys have not only persevered through terrible injury, they're the type that will tell you to go fuck yourself if you take pity on them.* These are guys who do the haka in wheelchairs, how cool is that? *As noted in the video, that doesn't apply to hot girls.
This is the one thing that will make me tear up any time I watch it. I used to be a distance runner and wish I could have seen this before I raced.
Michael Oher, the offensive tackle better known as the main character in The Blind Side. I don't care that his life story got turned into a sappy Hollywood flick that focuses more on Sandra Bullock than on him. The stuff he had to overcome is pretty overwhelming. It's too much to quote here but if you're interested, read his Wikipedia or this excerpt from Michael Lewis' book. Basically, because he had such a terrible childhood Oher had the body of an NFL lineman but the social and intellectual development of a 2nd grader. In order to get into college, he had to graduate high school, pass the SATs, and completely reinvent himself as a person in the span of about 2 years. Now he's a starter for the Ravens.
hi everyone, I like that documentary movie. The film i"m most inspired is Slum dog.Which has won many Oscars.Specially music given by A.R. rahaman. _________ Midnight Hour on MySpace Music –Free Streaming MP3s, Pictures & Music Videos
Dcc asked me about this after a rep comment, so I figured I'd chime in. [Note: I am not writing this post from a self-serving standpoint; I know many of you on here are parents, so the perspective I have on this topic might be of interest – we kids are resilient little fuckers, I promise you:] Two and a half years ago. I had just turned 19, and there I was on a hospital bed discussing my funeral plans, will, and Power of Attorney with my mother. I had less than a day before I underwent a surgery. A bad surgery. Brain surgery. A tumor the size of a grape was two millimeters from my brain stem, and it was surrounded by a cyst that was occupying a quarter of my cranial cavity. My cerebellum was compressed, my brain was actively herniating, and I was so hydrocephalic that it was literally in danger of being impaled on the top of my spine. I was told before the surgery that I would for certain lose both significant memory and the ability to walk (actually was scheduled for 2-4 weeks in a rehab hospital re-learning it). I also risked losing all kinds of motor skills, most if not all of my senses, and the ability to type/write prose/stuff of that nature. Death was something that, as several doctors told me, should have already happened well before I even came into the hospital; obviously, it had to be anticipated that I could die on the table. Well, like I said above, we kids sometimes don’t get enough credit. We’re actually really resilient, and surprisingly stubborn. I used to be a cross-country runner. I say used to, because my senior year in high school (so about two years before the tumor), when I was out on a training run, I fractured my back. I didn’t want to walk, and there was no one to call for help, so I ran the mile and a half back to campus. My times were decent enough to compete for a D3 college, so as you can expect I took some pride in it. Also, it was fun. I loved running, and when I broke my back that little activity went out the window. When the neurologist said I’d have to re-learn how to walk, I got pissed. So pissed that a day after the surgery, still on morphine and having experienced no physical activity greater than opening my mouth to be fed, I decided to give him the metaphorical finger (didn’t have the strength to do it for real) and try to walk. I pushed myself off the bed, my legs rejected my body weight, and I collapsed on the ground. Three days later I walked up a flight of stairs and made them release me to home. I temporarily lost, though eventually re-learned, both handwriting and math. I type different, and my writing ability was actually improved after a day or two of practice (I used to do sports writing so I had somewhat of a basis). I also returned to the job I love (daycare) a month and a half after the surgery, though I technically remained in a "state of critical condition" for another month and a half past that. The walking was killer. I had to re-learn it all, and once I got home was when the real self-guided therapy began. It took me a week before I could make it around the hospital. My mother made me prove I could walk a half-mile before she let me go back to work. Five months after a brain surgery that made me re-teach myself how to take a step, I ran 3.1 miles in a charity 5k (the famous “Race for the Cure”). I am not an overly religious person, but when I crossed the finish line I knew I had someone to thank. It was the easiest, most excruciatingly painful, twenty-five minutes of my life. Like I said, we kids are resilient little fuckers. I promise you.