No deception here. I am new to
squash. A longtime tennis fan, my squash experience is limited to
reading the Daily Squash Report and to standing in the greatest free
“seats” in all of sport---behind the front wall at the Tournament of
Champions in Grand Central Station. I spent several hours there
this past month waiting to see Nicol David from right behind the
glass. Seeing the best of squash, or any sport, work at
their craft from just a feet away is a rare treat.
My behind the wall vantage point left
me fascinated not only by the skill of these professionals, but also by
their motivation. What drives them to compete at such a
high level, embracing the inherent work that is required to reach that
level, while they fight for prize money that is a small fraction of the
money available in the marquee sports? Clearly it is not the
money. It is not the fame as few achieve the notoriety that David
has reached. Surely each has their own motivation, their own will
to succeed. And it is in that motivation, that will, that the
best stories in sport often lie. ________
This past November, on a cold night
in East Lansing, Michigan, such a story unfolded in a women’s
collegiate basketball game. The seeming innocuous
occurrence of a player checking in to a game would not normally be an
occasion for focus and fanfare, but on this particular occasion the
event was celebrated in the arena, outside the arena, and in social
media. Jay Bilas, ESPN analyst and men’s basketball
celebrity, reached into the women’s game and marked the occasion as it
happened to his 640,000 twitter followers:
“Michigan State's Madison Williams playing tonight for the first time since 2011. @madiwill40 Toughness and perseverance!”
Williams was a highly recruited
player in high school. A physically imposing 6’7” McDonald’s
All-American, it was widely expected that she would make a huge impact
for Suzy Merchant’s Spartans when she arrived on campus in
2010. But before she ever set foot onto the court in a game
for the Spartans, tragedy struck.
During an intra-squad scrimmage,
just before the start of her first season, Williams tore the ACL in her
right knee—a common, but devastating injury. Her freshman year
was a washout. The prescription for recovery was one seen too
often with knee injuries:
Surgery. A year of rehab. Intense personal commitment.
For one with so much talent and
physical gifts, it was most likely easy for her to dedicate herself to
the effort that would be required to get back on the
court. And get back on the court she did the
following year.
For three games.
In the third game of 2012 season,
lightning struck again. It just struck the other
knee. Madison Williams went down with a torn ACL in her
left knee. Her second season was now a washout.
Nurtured along by her teammates, a
caring coach, a loving family, and in no small part by her strong
faith, Williams began the long journey back for a second
time. Same prescription:
Surgery. A year of rehab. Intense personal commitment.
Even her most dedicated friends and
fans surely had to wonder if Madi would return to the court once the
painful recovery process was over. But, this is a story of
uncommon courage and commitment. Like her twitter handle,
@MadiWill40, those around her had to know that those words would be
prophetic and that Madi Will and Madi would.
The Spartans and Williams approached
the 2012 season with great anticipation. After all, both
knees were done. No more knees, right? Yet, again, in
what surely must have been a true test of her faith, lighting struck
once again. Before the 2012 season could even begin,
Williams suffered a third ligament injury---another partial tear in her
left ACL. By now, you know what came next:
Surgery. A year of rehab. Intense Personal commitment. No, Uncommon commitment.
How easy would it have been to walk
away? What could drive a young player to the type of
commitment required to get back on the court after her third knee
injury? It is certainly not the prospect of riches in the
professional women’s league. The maximum salary in the WNBA is
$101,500. Her education was far more critical to her
success in life than basketball would be. Yet somehow, Madi found
the will within to fight through one more year of pain to play the game
that she loves so much.
On November 23, 2013, culminating
three years of work and three knee surgeries, Madison Williams checked
into a game for Michigan State. This seemingly small event
inspired people far beyond the Spartan fan base. She demonstrated
what could be accomplished through faith, commitment and effort—through
pure will.
Uncommon Will.
Williams still has a long way to
go. Her coach is carefully managing her court time as she
works her way back into playing shape. Three years is a
long time to be off the court. There are flashes of brilliance
that demonstrate what can be as Williams works her way through this
year and points toward what will be her final year of
eligibility. In the process, Williams has provided a
personal human parable that transcends sports, age, and
gender.
Life
after basketball for Williams will be interesting to watch. She
has set her personal bar quite high indeed. I expect her
accomplishments in life to be significant. You see, she has an
uncommon will. She has Madi Will.
Madison Williams waits to check into her first game in over two years.
David Smith
is a Long Island-exiled Medical Device executive of questionable humor
and talent, whose unrestrained passion for Chardonnay and San Francisco
is only surpassed by his love of the Michigan State Spartans.
What's On My Mind is a column by rotating authors. Contact DailySquashReport@gmail.com
