The State of Whoops

You either think it or you don't -- the sentiment that "if it's meant to be, it'll happen." I'm a believer, but not because it's easy to be one. In fact, 2009 was a year that tested my belief in that theory probably more than any year before it.

"A man's doubts and fears are his worst enemies." Or, you could say, a man must continue on with his life and what he's doing. I find it interesting that this quote comes from William Wrigley Jr., a name made famous by chewing gum. When you chew gum, it's usually the one constant in what you're doing. And it doesn't really matter what emotions you're feeling -- you can chew gum when you're happy, sad, angry, or whatever. But no matter what's going on around you, you know how to chew it.

Almost exactly one year ago, I sat in the freezing cold bedroom of my apartment wondering what the year had in store. I was starting my path towards something new. Job applications were going left and right. My research into education programs was just beginning and I was prepared to start everything up again.

Instead, I spent a 365 days building up and tearing down as another job application was denied, either for inexperience or for lack of degree or for lack of employment available. Sometimes it was worse, building up for a job for which I applied, then never hearing any response, as if being thrown out of a plane with no parachute, knowing it was a lost cause at the end, but not knowing when the end would be. In the end, as I looked back at 2009, it was a lot failure, plain and simple. Or as I've recently been prone to describe my life, "It's in a state of 'whoops.'"

"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." And if it's not meant to be, it won't. So in theory I should be happy to have found so many opportunities that were not meant to happen. In theory I should be glad to know that there are other options, other people, other things that are perfect for Kevin Hunt.

But then there's the resounding theme heard shortly after my wrestling career ended: "If he just had one more year." I won just one match at the District Tournament, but that one win secured me a winning season record at 18-17. I met the goal set out by my coaches and me at the beginning of the year, but there was a certain flavor of disappointment lingering. It was described in the season-ending banquet as, "If he had just one more year."

Head Coach Matt Coleman said those words with the best of intentions. They spoke to my leadership and my desire to work hard every single day. What he probably didn't intend them to do was to be a constant reminder that I spent a year playing basketball that really had no point. They weren't intended to be a reminder of how I missed the first year because I didn't know any better.

They are, however, one of the things I remember most about high school. I want to be clear -- this isn't a regret. For all we know, if I come back for another year of wrestling, I get thrown onto my neck and hurt my back to the point of no repair. Even so, I know that the probability was better that I would have only gotten better with the additional year.

So what am I missing?? Is the fact that I'm in a position that is only made tolerable by the people I work with and live with keeping me from getting that first year in something that holds much more promise?? Is there someone I'm not getting to know because, quite simply, I don't know her yet??

"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." Here's a toast to the hope that it happens early in 2010 -- before the only realization is that it's too late.