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"That child simply has no coordination. She will never be good at sports."

Standing on the stairs, I overheard my own grandmother. She was talking about me! At the time, I was a kindergartner. Of course, I believed her.

It is astonishing how influential adult voices can be. Whether Grandma spoke the truth, or whether she simply spoke it INTO truth, her prophecy proved itself in my life.

Throughout elementary school and junior high, I was the backstop-hugger, as teams were selected. Gym teachers would pick captains, and they would call out the names of the kids they wanted on their teams. The players would line up. One by one, those around me would be chosen.

Finally, two of us would be left. The two captains would look at each other and say, "Which one are you gonna take?"

I swung bats at thin air more times than I wish to remember. I probably have the world's strikeout record. I ducked flies and refused to steal bases (if I happened to draw a walk).

I dreaded gym class. I shunned sports. I poured myself into books.

Finally, the tide shifted. At forty, I mustered up the courage to compete in a horse show. As I was cleaning my saddle and tack after the last class, the judge walked back to the stable aisle to find me. She presented me personally with the biggest, most colorful GRAND CHAMPION rosette ribbon I had ever seen! My horse and I had cleaned up. We had won all our classes. I took home all the blues and the big one too!

It was the first sports award I ever got. I wish Grandma could see it. Maybe she was wrong about me.

Learn more about this author, Linda Ann Nickerson.
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