@superseats@forcemm@TheTicketTruth@ScottFriedman3@UnderFaceValue Randy, Noah Kahan does no transfer, no resale etc etc. Everything that’s in your dreams.
And he’s STILL charging $600 for bleeds.
Today’s onsale is STILL a massive disaster with brokers barely participating
You have no idea what you’re ushering in lol
@ericadamsfornyc Don't worry. All the sliwa voters know to vote Cuomo. It's vote for a chance or waste your vote (sliwa) even if you like sliwa more than cuomo
The best parenting lesson I ever received was from a single interaction with my dad when I was 12.
I had tried out for this baseball all star team. The results came out and the coaches called to say they were taking 16 players and I was the 17th on the list. I didn't make it.
I remember being devastated. It was my first real experience with a failure.
My dad walked into my room and sat down next to me.
He said:
"I know you're upset. I understand. It sucks. But here are the three things the coaches said you needed to work on. Let's go out every day this summer and work on them together."
We did. He took me out to the local field damn near every single day that summer. I came back the next year and was a completely different player. Years later, when I got a scholarship to play in college, I still thought back to that summer as the turning point.
It took me having my own son to realize the powerful parenting lesson in all of this.
My dad had two options in that moment:
1. Tell me the coaches were idiots. They were wrong. They had made a mistake. I was the best player.
2. Acknowledge my disappointment. Reframe it as a growth opportunity. Support me to go after it.
It would have been easier to choose Option 1. Honestly, I would have been happier to hear it in the moment. But it would have had a lasting negative impact on my life.
You see, there's a big difference between what I wanted and what I needed.
Option 2 was the latter. The tough pill. The right pill.
My dad subtly reframed that failure as an opportunity. Then he showed up to help me capitalize on it.
I'll never forget that.
And by the way, my dad still shows up for me in that same way. He sat in the front row of my book tour events, diligently taking notes to help me prepare and improve.
I guess some things never change.