The Knoblauchs

by Scott Spinola

This essay originated as part of the personal statement I submitted with my law school applications in 2004.

I don't know how it happened. One day I stepped onto the field and it came over me. I had The Knoblauchs. Chuck Knoblauch was a Gold Glove second baseman for the New York Yankees during their World Series run of the Nineties. One year, inexplicably, his throws to first base started bouncing and sailing wide of their mark. The coaches and trainers could find no physical reason for this: no sprains, no strains, no tears, no fractures. He was simply missing the throws.

Clearly, I am no Gold Glove athlete, and a city co-ed softball game is somewhat less impressive than the World Series. Still, my case of the Knoblauchs was troublesome and embarrassing. I always thought of myself as a decent athlete who could become good enough at any sport to enjoy it. Now, I was about to lose my starting position and was already embarrassing myself in front of my friends and co-workers. I struggled for weeks watching my throws sail high and wide of first base. Runs scored and games were lost because of my errors. I was not enjoying my case of The Knoblauchs.

One night after a game, I decided to grab the team's bag of balls and hit the practice field. Each night I set up a target at first base, stood at third, and threw until the bag was empty, watching them one-by-one sail high and wide. I repeated this ignoble exercise bag after bag, night after night, week after week seeing little improvement. I tried singing songs while I threw. I tried tapping my glove before I threw. I tried chanting mantras. I checked web sites for tips. I even tried closing my eyes as I threw, a la Michael Jordan on the free throw line. I was quite sure my ability to pull this off would fall somewhat short of his. One night, several months into my regimen and two bags into the night, I started taking a step and dragging my foot as I threw, forcing me to slow down and concentrate. The balls began to find their target. When I stopped rushing and concentrated on the task, my limited abilities achieved their potential.

For me this episode was not about softball, but about facing down failure to create success. In the past I avoided this type of challenge. If it was not significant in the scope of my life, it was not important. What was missing in this attitude was the cumulative effect of avoiding many insignificant challenges. This present insignificant moment led me to a fuller understanding of what it takes to rise above mediocrity. If it took me months to simply figure out how to throw a softball and hit the mark, it would take far more effort than I was currently expending to succeed at the much greater challenge of creating a better life.

I know there will be great challenges before me in my life and career, but I know I cannot have the life I seek without first challenging myself. There are easier paths I can take to improve my life. I can move to the warm climate I desire and take a higher paying job in Technical Support or Systems Analysis for which I am already qualified. That is the easy path but one that will leave me unfulfilled. What I seek is not mere economic gain or lifestyle improvement, but the personal satisfaction of spending my remaining years in a career doing what I love.