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Tom Brady was drafted in the 6th round of the 2000 NFL draft. If you don’t understand the draft or football, you only need to know these two things: 1) Tom Brady is arguably the best quarterback in the NFL ((I actually think Peyton Manning is the best, but the two are nearly interchangeable for the title.)) 2) There are 7 rounds to the NFL draft, 32 slots in each round, and finding a talent — a legendary talent, nonetheless — in the 6th round is a steal (a very good selection considering the slot the player was drafted, and the player’s talent) and VERY hard. Like many drafts, the NFL draft can be a crapshoot, but the Patriots did right in 2000.

Peter King, a writer for Sports Illustrated, published in his Monday Morning Quarterback column that Tom Brady had only one gripe about his career thus far: he was drafted in the 6th round. ((I wish I could find the column, but it escapes me.)) If you still don’t understand football or the draft, you only need to know this: being drafted in the 6th round means that 32 teams passed on choosing you to play for their team at least 5 times. According to Peter King’s expose, this was Tom Brady’s only gripe.

Hearing Mr. Brady say that this was his only gripe had to mean something, and, of course, it does. One of the greatest quarterbacks to have ever played the game was drafted in the 6th round. In more accessible, albeit trite, terms, Tom Brady overcame the odds. He is inspiring.

What does this mean for me and you? Sure, Tom Brady, an athlete with exceptional gifts and talents, overcame the odds and made a career for himself in the NFL, but what about us? We aren’t Tom Brady, but that hardly means we can’t do as he did. This is an extreme example, but if you’re set up 90 metres behind in the 100 metre dash, will you give up? If you give up, you lose. If you still race as if you were in parity with the other racers, you will probably still lose, but you’ll have exhibited an exceptional spirit and attitude. That spirit and attitude is inspirational; it is vital in overcoming any odd. That spirit and attitude is habitual of the excellent, and practiced by the world changers. That spirit is Spirit, and that attitude is Attitude. Tom Brady has that spirit and attitude. Do you?

Tom Brady after winning one of his Superbowls

Note: Peyton Manning, Tom Brady’s “nemesis”, was drafted in the 1st round, the second slot. I like Peyton better than Tom, but I should also mention that I like Peyton’s brother, Eli, even more than Peyton.

The top image is a capture of Tom during the scouting combine when NFL scouts run the draft prospects through drills to get a better feel for their attributes; the photo is almost humiliating, almost like a shame on top of the shame of being drafted in the 6th. The bottom image is a capture of  Tom overcoming his draft slot, and winning, as of writing, 1 of his 3 Superbowls wins.

My first semester of university education at Marquette University ended around 8:30 AM on December’s second Thursday, the 11th, in the year 2008. In pursuit of a career in medicine, I know it is of crucial importance that I maintain exceptional grades. Beginning college, I set out the goal of obtaining a 4.0 GPA. Just one semester into my higher education, that goal has been botched.

But I’m not losing sight of it. I’m going to continue to work as if I can obtain a 4.0; that’s how I can extract the best from me. That’s what starting quarterbacks in the NFL do. Donovan McNabb, after being benched during a game in favor of a 2nd year player, said this about his status for starting the next week: “I definitely hope so. But that’s not up to me. I will prepare as if I am going to be the starter and do what I can to help the team.” Donovan, even though his initial goal to start was tarnished, didn’t let some blemishes set him back. He kept preparing and working as if his goal was still achievable. That’s how you maintain excellence. That’s how you extract perfection.

I haven’t been perfect — in any sense, even a modified sense! — this semester. It’s quite humbling to be receiving a B in chemistry, and coming to terms with exams that average around 80 percent. ((I felt I was so prepared for chemistry too! A year of AP Chemistry along with a year or organic and a year of general chemistry, I thought that would have been sufficient to prepare me for the chemistry I faced in college. I think a part of my shortcoming was my conceitedness; I saw preparing for chemistry as something “extra” I could do. What a shame.)) For the most part, though, I think I did fine my first semester in college. Although not exclusively academically speaking, the past months have been an exceedingly positive experience.

For a first semester, a basis if you will, I think my jettison towards medical school has an adequate foundation. With the grades I’ve received, my just-recent self analysis, and a better understanding on how I learn and study, I think I can increase my efficiency next semester ten-fold.

One of the best teachers I’ve ever had was in 7th grade science class. His name was Mr. Charpentier, and even at the ripe age of whatever age a 7th grader is, I could comprehend the wisdom that spewed from his mouth. He was a very inspirational man, and emitted radiance in his work. Teachers are so important in our society. Having experienced Mr. Charpentier only adds to the hope that I have in all teachers and their molding of our youth.

There is one quote that Mr. Charpentier shared with us that was exceptionally encouraging. I believe it is somewhat along the lines of a cliche, but still possesses timeless truth.

Good, better, best.

Never, never rest.

Until your good is better, and your better is your best.

Mmm. Talk about fuel for your soul.

Lately I’ve been posting items that don’t necessarily relate to me personally. I’ve been exposing my thoughts, but not me. I don’t mean that doing so is necessarily bad, but it will become bland very quickly if I don’t break the trend. Without further adieu, let me sit at the front of the bus. ((This is a reference to the extraordinary Rosa Parks who broke the trend when she could have continued to break herself.))

Actually, one adieu: I tend to think that these “personal” posts are boring: They’re all about me, and what has happened to me. If you don’t know me, or vaguely know me, then these posts are a drag — like my Nature of Mathematics class. I would say I wasted three credit hours during my first college semester, but I don’t think you should ever think that you have wasted your life. You know, I think I’m developing a fatalist view of life.

I tend to think things happen for a reason. When it comes to love, I lobby for the idea that there is only one person in the world for you: That’s 1 out of 6 billion people. I think it’s fate when people fall into a legitimate love. I suppose you can find a genuine love with more than one person, though. If you think of love as having prerequisites for each “type” of person, then certainly someone could find that “type” of person that would suit the “type” of love they harmonize with.

I tend to think that you can’t really screw up in life unless you simply do not try. As long as you keep rowing the boat, you will get somewhere. It may not be where you want to be, but you will always still have the option to change course. ((If you’re interested, at this point I began to think about how effective my analogy/metaphor is. Is life really open like a body of water? Or is it more like a road where it is more direct — one way, or a two way street? Hmm.)) Therefore it is my conviction that what happens in life happens for a reason; it’s fate. It happened to you and now you take some of the authorship of your life by reacting and managing the situation.

This really didn’t become a “personal” post. I can’t break the trend. How about this?: I might go see a rap battle at the beginning of October. It should be interesting, but I haven’t still decided whether I will go. Rap can be so influential and charismatic; it’s almost heartbreaking to see how much of it is dominated by hate, and lust for the physical and material. There is beautiful rap out there.

Before midnight I went down to visit Trevor’s room. Trevor is my best friend from middle school. Gradually we’ve grown apart, but we’ve managed to stay in touch and we’ve ended up at the same university. ((In fact, I hated him one year. It was terrible.)) It was real nice seeing him again, and just spending one-on-one time. He’s a brilliant man and a hard worker. He deserves whatever he is working for, and I think that is a career in medicine: He can do it. He inspires me.

Big Brothers Big Sisters starts this week! This is too exciting. I wonder what my Little is like. I’m so excited to still be working with kids. I’m glad I discovered that I liked working with them. It’s not the same as having my own kids, but I think one day I would love to have some. Like six. Two boys and four girls. And I have some of the names picked out.

I bought Gladiator and Hotel Rwanda when I took RJ and Z back home with me. It was a real privilege to show them around my turf. Both of those movies are good. In fact, I watched a good amount of Gladiator this past evening with some friends. I also made taco dip, and it was a decent for my first attempt; I had to call Rachel first to hammer out the details because her mom makes taco dip very well.

Z bought a penguin for Samantha this past afternoon for her birthday. It was a great find — by me, of course. I’ve eyes for spotting out penguins. I almost wish I hadn’t found the penguin because I really want it. Man. Why do I like penguins? How odd. I guess they are cute. I mean, look at them: They waddle.

The Giants are on bye this week. I’m 2-1 in fantasy football, and I think I will be 3-1 by Tuesday. I’m not sure if my league is that active though. The leader in our league is still starting Jeremy Shockey. ((Shockey is out for a couple of weeks with another inhibiting injury.))

That’s all. Love to you.

Love the success of being the top score. You’re a gladiator my friend, and every time you enter that lecture hall, you be prepared to get blood on your hands and know how to take a few blows. With your pen as your weapon, never give up. College is all a game in the end. It does not test your knowledge, but your ability to adapt to a system. Kiss ass, but never show brown on your nose. But most importantly, help your fellow student every chance you get, for teaching someone the material means you have mastered it. Good luck.

Man. Have you ever heard college described in a more inspiring manner? That’s exactly how I felt during the summer term before my freshman year in college — like a gladiator. Perhaps this is the more nerdy side of me, but I don’t think so. This is the adult in me finally grasping what I dreamt as a child. This is where I turn my goals into achievements. This is where perfection is no longer a standard, but my norm. I don’t have a potential; I am unlimitedly capable.

We’re all meant for great things. We only differ in when we discover what we will become great at — our life purpose. Starting at Marquette University, I think I’ve merely begun to tap into my greatness. Winston Churchill: History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.

I am so ready for college (five days left!). College is a power source. Haven’t you heard? Knowledge is power.

Logically, I should have started with the actual class, Introduction to Theology, but I consider Fortunate too important to put second. To resolve any confusion, Fortunate is the name of the seminar leader. He is African, or at least I think he is.

The first day we had seminar was interesting. I vividly remember Fortunate introducing himself to us, and, to me, he seemed to paint himself like a divine being. ((Interesting and coincidental because in theology we engage in discourse of a divine being.)) He said, and I paraphrase, that he is all ethnicities, knows all languages, is all of the world’s religions, and is both man and woman. It was freaky, but he said it in such a collective and assertive manner that one felt that if you challenged his claims, he would whip out a manifesto to prove you wrong.

Regardless, I thought he was a very inspiring man. He is an inspiring man. From one question, he could diverge and turn it into a lecture. His knowledge of theology, especially the patriarchs, is so deep. In reflection, I think he seemed more intelligent than he actually is. I don’t mean that he isn’t genius, but I’d like to see him lecture physics or chemistry before I declare him my personal Einstein (or da Vinci for those who do not really think Einstein was brilliant).

Fortunate liked his chalk and his acronyms. He would list off subjects and topics and abbreviate them with a capital letter. And then he would circle the letter to emphasize the point. Then he would box off different subject areas and continue his lecture. It really didn’t make sense, but it did hammer ideas into my head — somehow. You wouldn’t think that his teaching style would work, but if you were paying attention it did something for you.

He started to teach us Greek, but stopped after our class failed at memorizing it. The transliteration from Greek to English was easily learned, but I never received the memo that we had to memorize the Greek script too. Nonetheless, this very brief introduction to Greek sparked my interest for it; instead of German, I’m looking to learn Greek — and maybe Latin.

No matter what, he was always wearing a hat. At first I thought it was because he had a medical problem, and so I was a little scared to ask him if he would take his hat off. He is probably bald.

If it weren’t for the seminar, I don’t think I would have done as well in Theology as I did. The seminar served as reinforcement for what I learned in class that day. I’m hoping that is what the discussion components of any class will serve as too.

In testimony to Fortunate’s teaching style, I never understood how he planned for what he was going to go over in class. Everyday it seemed he started off impromptu. Perhaps he had a plan, but I would believe the fact that he just winged it. He seems the type of guy who could wing a presentation and still look brilliant.

Disparate notes: Fortunate liked his Burger King fries. The Black Eyed Peas, according to Fortunate, are the best band ever. He thoroughly enjoys checkers. He worked at the library (doing his work, not working for the library) for 18 hours straight once.