Toughest Out In Sports

My big takeaway as a dad is that love is spelled T-I-M-E.

I had the joy of driving Molly to school—from pre-K through twelfth grade—each day, from our apartment on the Upper West Side to The Dalton School on the Upper East. The drive from our apartment on the Upper West Side to the Dalton School on the Upper East was maybe twelve to fifteen minutes, but day by day, over the course of thirteen years, our time together compounded, and Molly and I built a bond of communication and trust that you can’t duplicate with a two-week vacation once a year.

When Molly was a young girl, her favorite athlete, hands down, was Derek Jeter. He was only twenty-two when he led the Yankees to a World Series title in 1996, when Molly was an impressionable six years old. As the Yankees’ captain, Jeter was known as the toughest out in baseball. To inspire Molly, I gave her the nickname TOIS (pronounced “toys”), which stands for the Toughest Out In Sports. And it stuck. In her room, Molly kept a life-size cutout of Jeter that inspired her each day—from her pre-teen years in soccer through cross-country and lacrosse in high school.

In 2017, three years after Jeter ended his storied career, Molly felt stuck in her job on Wall Street. She’d been at Goldman Sachs for four years but felt unmotivated and in need of a big play. So, she decided to get her MBA. With her sights set on a top school, she knew the importance of scoring 700 or higher on the GMAT. She prepped diligently and arranged to take the test in Brooklyn. I agreed to meet her afterward to celebrate.  
 
When I arrived at the test site, Molly was inconsolable. During the break, she went to the bathroom and somehow misunderstood the restart time, forcing her to scramble back to her seat a few minutes late. In her flustered state, she berated herself and fell short of 700, ending up with a 690. Kind passers-by on Bridge Street asked us if she was okay and if we needed help. It was nearly an hour before Molly could walk. I calmly told her, “Your destiny is much bigger than the GMAT. You can either let it define you OR use it as a lesson to build on. C’mon, you’re the Toughest Out In Sports—you’re TOIS!”  

In our cab back into Manhattan, Molly rebounded. Later that night, I remembered a short verse quoted by business author Harvey Mackay and texted it to Molly:

”Life is too short to wake up with regrets.
So love the people who treat you right,
And forget about those who don’t.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy.
They just promised it would be worth it.”

Molly immediately texted back, “Dad, I love this. It’s perfect. Did you write it?” I told her I’d seen the words in a book by Mackey, but that I’ve often leaned on them during times of fear and doubt.

A few months later, Molly retook the GMAT and broke 700, which she parlayed into an acceptance at Stanford, her dream school. To this day, when she’s feeling down because of a setback at work, at home, or with friends, I’ll say, “Hey, TOIS, what’s up?”

What comes around goes around. When my granddaughter, Leni, received her first vaccination shot at three months, she winced a bit but hardly cried. Molly said, “No surprise. Leni’s tough. She’s TOIS II!”