Diny Davis (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Neda Ziabakhsh, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
I can’t remember the first time I kicked a ball, but I do remember the feeling: the rush of the wind, the sudden burst of laughter, the sharp focus on a moving target. Sport has been woven into my life in ways I never expected—not just as competition, but as connection.
When I was a child, I wasn’t the fastest or the strongest. I didn’t dominate every game or break any records. In fact, I often felt like I was on the sidelines, watching others shine. But sport, I learned, is far more forgiving and inclusive than it might seem. It welcomes anyone who is willing to show up, to try, to stumble and to get back up again.
In high school, I joined a community volleyball team. At first, every missed serve felt like a personal failure — proof that I didn’t belong, that I wasn’t good enough. I remember the sting of embarrassment, the frustration that bubbled up after every mistake. But something changed after weeks of practice: my teammates cheered louder for my attempts than they did for perfect plays. Their support became a kind of fuel, and slowly, I realized that sport isn’t just about skill—it’s about spirit, about heart, about being part of something bigger than yourself.
Sport teaches patience. It tests courage. It humbles you when you think you’ve mastered it and surprises you when you least expect it. For some, it’s a path to glory; for many, it’s a way to stay healthy, build friendships, and simply feel alive in the moment.
One of the most beautiful things about sport is its ability to mirror life. There are highs and lows, victories and defeats, moments of brilliance and times of doubt. Not every game is fair, and not every season ends in victory. Injuries happen. Teams dissolve. Life shifts and priorities change, but the lessons remain.
I’ve learned to shake hands with opponents even when my heart aches from losing—to show respect for the effort rather than obsess over the outcome. I’ve listened closely to the quiet leadership of a teammate who rarely speaks, but whose presence inspires everyone. I’ve pushed through the final minutes of exhaustion when my body screamed “enough,” finding reserves of strength I didn’t know I had.
Sport teaches resilience. It’s about rising again after falling, about understanding that progress isn’t always linear. Sometimes growth happens in the small, unseen moments—a second saved on your lap time, a better pass, a steadier breath during a sprint. These moments build quietly, forming the foundations of confidence and self-belief.
Beyond the physical and emotional lessons, sport connects people across cultures, ages and backgrounds. I’ve witnessed strangers bond over a shared love of a game, cheering and supporting each other in ways words cannot describe. It’s a universal language of effort, joy and perseverance.
Sport evolves, just like art or music. New technologies measure our performance with incredible precision. New sports emerge, reflecting changes in societies and interests. Global events like the Olympics showcase talent from every corner of the world, reminding us of our shared humanity and the power of determination.
Yet the essence of sport remains untouched: a human body in motion, a community gathered to watch and a shared belief that effort matters.
In the end, sport is a reminder that we are more capable than we think. It’s not just about the scoreboard, medals or trophies—it’s about those in-between moments, when we push past limits we thought were fixed, when you surprise yourself with what you can do.
These lessons don’t stay on the court or field. They carry over into our daily lives, shaping how we face challenges, how we connect with others and how we grow as individuals. Sport teaches us that every step forward, no matter how small, is worth celebrating.
—
Leave your thoughts for Neda in the comments below. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news! Writer
