Daniel’s Response

Listen to this life-changing speech!

Transcript:

Let me tell you about this wild story I had in Korea. It was supposed to be just another Ice hockey exchange experience — you know, fly in, play some games, fly out. Pretty chill. But man did it turn into something crazy and way cooler.

Now picture this: We’re a bunch of guys from Singapore, where Ice hockey is as common as penguins on the beach. We get to Seoul and we’re up against teams that live and breathe hockey. Our game plan? Pretty straightforward: try not to lose and avoid embarrassing ourselves.

I was appointed team captain, but let’s be honest, as you can probably already tell, motivational speeches aren’t really my cup of tea. I was more the “listen to the coach and do what he says” kind of person. But here I was, in charge of taking care of a team with a mix of veterans of the game and some who were pretty new. 

Our first day in Seoul felt a bit tense. We were all feeling this collective pressure and cloud of doubt that was looming above us, hoping that we wouldn’t get steamrolled. And to kick things off to a good start, I thought it would be good to do a workout together. Most of the veterans who knew me joined in, but the rest decided to take their minds off what was on the horizon and went to tour the city. To be frank, I was a bit disappointed, but that didn’t stop me from trying harder.  I had to continue on.  In the Art of Self Improvement, “perseverance denotes our ability to continue with a task even in the face of obstacles or setbacks.”

I got back to my hotel room after that decent workout and began to wonder what it meant to be a leader. I started scrolling through YouTube, looking for locker room speeches, and fixing up game strategies for my team.  Losing track of time after pouring through clip after clip, I plunked down on my bed to rest my eyes and dozed off.

But when I woke up, that’s when I experienced a real game-changer. I received a text telling me to meet the team at this restaurant for a Korean barbeque with one of the opponent teams. I was fashionably late, thanks to my unplanned nap, but as I walked into the scene of my team having the time of their lives, it filled me with joy. They had reserved a seat for me at the table with the other captain and assistant captain, and man were these guys amazing — super friendly and gracious. They grilled beef slice after beef slice for me and my teammates until we were the most well-fed hockey team on the planet or at least I was the most well-fed 16-year-old hockey captain that ever was.   In between slices of beef, we bonded over exchanges about girls, dating, and relationships.  Beef and girls - nothing better than that combination to bridge the cultural gap between Korean hockey and Singapore hockey.

So when we met them on the ice the next morning we thought nothing like a friendly continuation of that bond from the feast the night before.  Little did we know.  We were in for the ride of our lives.  From the moment the whistle went off until the buzzer sounded to end the game, we were mesmerized by the scene before our eyes.  Sure the game started slow, they passed and passed and skated circles around us.  We thought it was just some ritual or their graciousness in letting us warm up.  But it wasn’t.  They calculated each play.  They just didn’t want to tip us off.  So they took only a few shots against us and only scored their first goal moments before the end of the 1st period.  By the time I realized that it was their strategy all along - to lead us to think it was just a friendly exchange on ice - it was too late.  They had already taken a 5-0 lead going into the final quarter.  Most of my team played like it was just a friendly exhibition - rather than a real game.  Most didn’t care we were down 5-0 because we thought it would be disrespectful to play too hard against the host of our dinner the night before.

But I caught on but my team didn’t believe me.  I tried to get them to play full speed - and to get physical like we normally do.  But my words fell on deaf ears.  My team couldn’t believe the nicest hosts in the world the night before would grill us like the beef slices the next morning.  It didn’t take long into the 3rd period when we were all believers.  They had scored 2 more within the first 2 minutes and they were no longer skating circles around us but skating straight into and through us right to our goalie.  And boy did our goalie feel it.  He fielded more shots in the first 2 minutes of Period 3 than the first 2 periods combined.  This must have been their game plan all along.  Set us up into thinking we were playing friendly and then ambush us at the door.  It worked beautifully.  We were wiped out 7-0.  They had us licked - simple as that.

That evening after a long cold shower - half in disbelief of what just happened and half boiling in revenge for being so naive and stupid to fall for the oldest trick in the book.  A part of me wanted to punch a hole in the shower wall.  The other part of me resisted the temptation and wanted to use the energy for change.  Anna Schaffner wrote: “The royal road to self-improvement is … a form of perseverance that, far from being put off by failure, accepts it as essential.”  So I called the team together for a second time for a second workout and this time everyone showed up.  As physically tired as we all were, we were more tired of being made a fool period after period.  We got pumped - pumped some iron and then determined to show our Korean hosts some Singapore hospitality.

And boy did we.  The next morning - we were on fire.  We had transformed in less than 24 hours from a “let’s be respectful to our hockey hosts” to a “let’s teach our hockey hosts some damn hockey”.  We let it rip.  Every ounce of energy we had and then some, we put it on the ice.  It was no friendly hockey exchange in that 2nd game.  It was open hunting season for us and this time our guns were loaded and we brought plenty of ammo. 

So you can guess how that game - for that matter - that trip ended.  We arrived in Seoul with our tails between our legs, winter struck by the warmth of our hockey hosts and their hospitality.  Only to be left out in the cold to thaw in miserable defeat.  So we found our fire, turned up the heat, and melted away our politeness, hesitation, and our hosts. By the end of the trip, we had these amazing moments to look back to. It wasn’t just about scores. It was about taking control.  It was about deciding if we were going to just accept defeat or do something.  We chose the latter.

Looking back on this journey, Frankl’s words echoed in my mind, “Between stimulus and response, there is space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.” The raw twist of defeat in the first game taught my team and me the importance of choosing our response, embracing our challenges, and finding growth in our decisions. This experience, though, emerging from a vastly different context than Frankl’s experience in “A Man’s Search for Meaning”, led us to discover our ability to face adversity head-on, accept it for what it is, adapt, and emerge even stronger. It became clear that the ultimate test of character isn’t in our successes but in our response to challenges. So as you continue to face your challenges beyond the ice rink, remember you can choose not to be defined by the circumstances you are in, but by your decision on how to respond to them. And that is the real game-changer.

The End and Thank you for listening.  Hope you enjoyed it!