Best Kept Secrets

“Are you kidding me? He’s a walk-on. There is no reason that he should keep scoring on you like that?”

“She’s stolen the ball from you three times today. You do realize that she isn’t even a scholarship athlete, right?”

“How is it even possible that a walk-on…a WALK-ON…finishes every running drill first? Maybe I should put him on scholarship because he clearly wants it more.”

“You can give him his gear last. He’s a walk-on. He knows the pecking order” (insert coach’s laugh here). FYI – It wasn’t funny.

“Why do you care what she says? Only one of you is on scholarship.”

“Shut up. You don’t really even count.”

“Again. YOU don’t make any decisions here. (Insert scholarship athlete’s name), what do you think?”

Can you imagine someone talking to you that way as an 18 to 22-year-old adult? Can you imagine hearing a grown person talk to one of your teammates that way? In the world of collegiate athletics, it happens more than you think. In our daily interactions with others, we have to remain aware that words can have a transformative effect on the human psyche. Don’t fret though. Everything that’s said to us on the field of competition, in the locker room, or in passing isn’t all bad.

Consider the more positive affirmations provided by coaches, teammates, and peers:

“I don’t know why you do it, but I am surely glad that you do.”

“Thank you for being here. Your presence makes us better.”

“His work ethic is undeniable. Pay attention and learn from him.”

“She’s a leader now and she will be an even more powerful leader in the future.”

“She reaffirms my faith in the pure desire that one can have about being great in something and then teaching others how to do the same.”

“Man, I have to tell you that I have learned so much from you on and off the court. I don’t have a genetic brother, but you are as close to a brother as I’ve ever had.”

“Listen to me. I know that sometimes you doubt yourself because you aren’t playing a lot. Stop it. You are great. You make everyone better. Know and believe that.”

How great is it to have such positive energy pushed into a college kid? Imagine hearing a coach, teammate, administrator, professor, or peer talking to one of your teammates that way. In the world of collegiate athletics, it happens quite often. In virtually every interpersonal interaction, the words we choose to deliver can have a transformative effect on the receiver.

Throughout this book, I am going to let you in on our secret. Who is our, you ask? Walk-ons, that’s who. We are a select group of humans who have achieved the improbable. We are the hidden figures of collegiate athletics. We are ghosts. We are the unsung heroes that make our chosen sport better. We are the life assassins who will persist until our missions are complete. We are the counselors who help our teammates through tough times. We are the pseudo-coaches who understand the mannerisms of everyone around us and can offer insight into the varied motivations of our peers. We are the allies of the marginalized and sometimes forgotten.

We are crowd favorites. We are the ones who fall in love with the process. We are the ones who do it for a cause and not the applause (well, we love the applause just as much as anyone else). We are the leaders of men and women during college and after college. We are the palm trees that aren’t easily broken. We are some of the strongest links in many unbreakable chains. We are gifts. We aren’t scared even when we are afraid. We strive to make others better. We learn to view practices as games. We smile even when we are troubled because we know that it is our choice to pivot or persevere. We live, love, and laugh. We are collegiate athletics’ best kept secrets and the world’s most formidable opponents.

Best Kept Secrets, at the macro level, is for people who have felt or feel marginalized and/or ostracized because they aren’t the superstar in their respective space. At the micro and more personal level, Best Kept Secrets is a book by a walk-on, for walk-ons, about walk-ons, and the power that we possess to move from feelings of invisibility to life champions. When I say walk-on, I am talking about any non-scholarship athlete from any sport who was on the team for at least one year and didn’t quit because it was too hard or not worth it. I also include in this tribe of leaders those who tried to walk-on for multiple years, but were never selected. Your desire, resilience, and pursuit of greatness during those college years have undoubtedly proven to be of value in your life post college.

From what I understand, some people now prefer the term non-scholarship athletes because they don’t want to hurt our feelings. For many years after college, I avoided the term walk-on like I was trying to avoid a life terminating event. The word made me sad. It made me angry. It made me feel inferior. For more than a decade, I tried to maneuver almost every conversation that did not occur in a weight room or on a basketball court away from sports. I didn’t engage in many conversations about sports because I didn’t want people to Google me only to realize that I played fewer minutes in four years than many of my teammates played in a few games.

I practiced for thousands of hours to perform at the Division I level in front of fans for only about an hour. Every time an individual would learn that I was a member of the University of Notre Dame’s men’s basketball team, I would engage in some level of self-deprecating humor or qualify my engagement. I would say something like…