kicking for points with no one around

I spent a good 10 years of my life playing the sport of rugby, chasing an odd shaped ball around a finely manicured lawn wearing short shorts, a collared shirt, socks pulled smartly up to my knees. I loved to play that sport, and I still love to watch the game. I played fly half for most of my playing days, and one of the responsibilities that often falls to the #10 position is kicking.

The house I grew up in was really close to my team's home field. On days when I didn't have practice or a game, I would often ride my bike to the park with 2 or 3 balls in my backpack. And then I would kick. Sometimes for a couple of hours. Alone. Place the ball in the tee. Line up. 3 steps back. One step to the left. Breath deep. Kick. Multiplied 2 or 3 times. Then run to retrieve the balls. Repeat. For a couple of hours...and I never became a great points kicker. I was good at kicking for touch. In fact, I was good at most facets of the game. But the part of the game that I practiced the most, kicking for points, was always the weakest part of my game. It wasn't even that I was just OK. I just wasn't that good.

It is said that practice makes perfect. Another bullshit saying in an attempt to get kids to practice piano even though they would rather be playing the drums. Well, practice doesn't always make perfect. I know this for sure, because there are some things in life that I have practiced a lot and have only become slightly competent in. But as the Rugby World Cup has been starting up the past couple of days I have found myself thinking more about those late afternoons in the park than the tries I scored. I have found myself thinking about lacing up my rugby boots on the baseball bleachers. Doing a couple of warm-up laps while tossing a ball in the air. The stillness of setting up for a kick. The long shadows of the cedar trees. The slow jog to pick up the balls settled in the grass. The being alone with this awareness, in my teenage mind, that my practice wasn't really making me that much better at what I was practicing. While not a lot came of that time spent in the park with regard to my rugby skills, I now think that they were some of my most important times as a teenager. I realize now, that there in the park - alone, kicking wide or short more than through the uprights - I learned to be alone with my limitations, to admit that there were some things that I just wasn't going to be good at...and this is OK.

Another thing that is said - you can't be good at everything. I think this one is true. But there may still be some good in practicing those things anyways that we aren't ever going to be all that good at.