My son was an outstanding football player who played first-string positions in offense, defense and special teams during two of his High School prep football seasons. He played so often that he rarely got a break on the sidelines to catch a breath of fresh air. The joke around our house posed in question form was, “Man, are they ever going to allow you a breather between plays?”
His genesis in football, however, was dismal at best and I wondered if he would ever play the game well, until one day he had a metamorphosis of his own. Prior to his high school years he played in the Nevada Youth Football League. He had never played the game before but wanted to passionately play. He had one small problem; he was timid when it came to tackling others, which is a major part of playing the game. Whenever he would tackle a player he would grab on and wait for some of his teammates to join in on the tackle. It was obvious he was fearful of hurting someone or being hurt himself. This was a personal constraint line he imposed on himself, perhaps for his lack of experience playing in an actual game. In my best estimation, the line of resistance in his life was fear due to a lack of knowledge and experience.
One day there was an option play that took the running back around the side and down the sidelines. My son was playing the defensive end position and followed the play well. He ran toward the sidelines and gained so much momentum running that he just happened to meet the running back on the sideline at the right angle, at the right time with the right amount of speed and force. He had no other option but to plow him over by his shear momentum. It was a great site for any father to witness, as both of them went crashing down, kicking up dirt and grass as they tumbled upon the ground. As soon as he got off the ground I knew something had happened to him on the inside; there was a monumental change in his stride as he strutted back to the huddle. I discerned his fear had lifted as he had gained a new level of confidence as a gridiron man. He had crossed over the line of demarcation; from operating in fear to playing the game with confidence. When he got back into the huddle, his team members celebrated with him as they smacked his helmet with their hands, a sign of acceptance into an elite fraternity of gridiron men. I also noticed, in the plays that followed, he was not intimidated anymore. For him tackling was not a bad thing after all. He had tasted the experience of a tackle and liked it; therefore, crossing his personal line of demarcation, thus, distinguishing himself from his fear of tackling others by himself. My son had broken through fear, and went on to have many more successful prep football seasons as an all around, first string player.
How have you broken through the line of fear in your life?