Empathy

I was reminded a couple days ago why I dislike my empathetic nature. Normally, being empathetic is a good thing. You are able to relate to others on a very personal level. You clearly are able to see from someone else's point of view. When you work with kids (especially in a school setting), it is easy to see how many need to learn this trait. There are others that naturally, intuitively feel empathy towards others. I consider myself in the latter of these two. For as long as I can remember I have been sensitive to the needs of those around me. I would kill me to see people hurting when I was a kid. This along has brought me my fair share of discomfort over my life. I am going to touch on a different aspect of empathy which I was only reminded of a coupld days ago.

I received a phone call from a friend a couple days ago, inquiring whether or not I would be interested in playing tennis. I have not played tennis for nearly two years, so I jumped at the opportunity to get out and hit the fuzzy ball around. I have learned over the years that I am better than most people who would like to play me in tennis. Please do not misunderstand, this is not hubris, it is just fact. This does not matter one iota. Mac has been a very casual tennis player, and only picks up a racket on rare occasions, but he is still able to get games off me. I know there are times to compete and times to have fun, the problem is differentiating between the two.

My senior year of high school was my banner year as far as tennis is concerned. I played my best and my record reflected such. I finished my senior year with an 18-9 record. There are a lot of small teams in mid-Ohio, farm communities where kids do more working than focusing on sports. I was very fortunate to have parents that wanted me to get better and helped me realize it. But there were several teams that, to be honest, were not very good. This did not matter. I played my entire senior year without "bageling" (6-0, 6-0) anyone. I was so concerned with the other person's feelings, that I would inevitably ease up and allow them to steal a game. It was even worse if I thought the other person was hurt.

The story which I remember most vividly involves a rival I had from a neighboring school. Kris Ross went to Ontario, and through a mutual acquaintance, Kris and I became "friends". Kris believed himself to be the better tennis player which was fine (in retrospect, he may have been), but I was able to best him. I was fine with the competition against him, but he had significantly better scores against mutual opponents. Kris and I both played first singles for our respective teams, and we played against each other's competition. So, Kris began to tell me a story of how he was able to beat the number one player from Crestline (another high school in the area) in 13 minutes. He was able to play the entire match in 13 minutes. In his mind, he was astounded with how completely he destroyed his opponent. I, on the other hand, was wondering what it would be like to be on the other end of a shellacking that bad. True to form, when I played said Crestline player, I won 6-1, 6-1.

I am very thankful I am an empathetic person, it does take a bit of the killer instinct out of sports though.