The Real New Beginning
“New beginnings” sounds like a gentle idea. Doesn’t it? Like turning a page in a storybook. In the NFL, we deal with violent, sudden beginnings: the snap of the ball, the crack of the pads. The language of the game is all about the comeback, the two-minute drill, the second-half surge. But a real new beginning, the kind that demands every ounce of your soul, doesn’t start with a whistle. It begins in silence after everything you relied on has been taken away.
I played linebacker for the Miami Dolphins, Philadelphia Eagles, and New England Patriots in the 1970s. I wasn’t a superstar, but I was a captain. I showed up, hit hard, and my teammates knew they could count on me. My professional career ended suddenly when a doctor diagnosed me with a rare desmoid tumor in my shoulder. Three short years into a dream I had worked my entire life for, it was over.
The “new beginning” I was handed wasn’t a gift; it was a crisis. The team let me go. The future I had envisioned was shattered. I underwent a major amputation: my left arm, shoulder, and five ribs were removed to save my life. I was 29 years old. I hit rock bottom, facing a life that felt completely unrecognizable. I had always relied on my physical strength, my speed, and my ability to out-muscle the man across from me.
That resilience was gone. The system had failed me, and I felt utterly alone.
Then, one morning, as I struggled to do the simplest tasks, a deep realization hit me: the “comeback” wasn’t a physical act. It was an internal one. I had to build a new kind of resilience—self-reliance—a muscle I’d let atrophy while I was busy lifting weights.
We’re in 2026 now, decades after my amputation. For most people, New Year’s is about making resolutions. For me, every day is a resolution. The daily challenges I face serve as the training ground for my ongoing comeback.
Want to know how anyone can handle life’s daily challenges? You search for inspiration wherever you can find it and look for that grit in others. Take the Phillies’ catcher, J.T. Realmuto. That guy motivates me to push through my own daily pain and struggles. You see him get completely slammed in a collision at home plate, the kind of hit that makes you wince, and you think he’s finished for the season. But he gets up, shakes it off, and keeps playing. That’s real, unfiltered resilience. It reminds me that pain is only temporary, but grit lasts forever. If J.T. can take that physical beating and stay focused on the next pitch, I can manage the everyday frustrations of living one-handed. That is the mentality that guides me into 2026.
How You Can Tackle Your Daily Challenges
My Playbook for Resilience
It does not matter if your challenge is physical like mine, a financial struggle, or a relationship that is falling apart. The principles are universal. Here are the four tips for building resilience and tackling your daily life challenges:
1. Acknowledge the Fumble, Then Focus on the Next Play
I lost my limb. I acknowledge that reality every morning. But I don’t dwell on it. You might have made a mistake, failed an exam, or lost a job. That is the fumble. Dust yourself off immediately and focus on the “next play.” The present moment is the only one you control.
2. Develop Your “4 F’s” Reliance Strategy
I used to rely on a coach’s game plan. My new strategy is the “4 F’s”: Faith, Family, Friends, and Fortitude. Your team is your greatest asset. It is not a sign of weakness to ask for help, so lean on your people.
3. Seek Out the Daily Win
My goal for 2026 isn’t to climb Mount Everest. It’s to have a “daily win.” It might be a productive morning of work, a good conversation with my grandchildren, or simply managing a task that requires extra dexterity. The daily win builds momentum. It reminds you that you are capable. These small, consistent victories are how you win the season of life.
4. Find Purpose in Mentorship
My comeback wasn’t about fame. It was about finding value in the quiet work. I found my purpose in speaking to groups, sharing my story of resilience, and helping others find their “next play.” When you help someone else, you give your own suffering a purpose. You can do the same.
The journey from an NFL player to an amputee facing the unknown was like a crash landing. But the journey from that operating table to a life of purpose and inspiration? That’s the real story. The comebacks worth writing about aren’t about the final score on a board; they are about getting up one more time than when you fall. So, bring it on, 2026. Every sunrise is a new beginning. I’m ready for the daily challenge, and I know you are too. You have the grit. Use it.
