Denzel Washington had a 1.8 GPA when his university asked him to leave. Years later he stood at a podium and told 5,000 Ivy League graduates: "If you don't fail, you're not even trying."
March 1975. He'd switched majors three times at Fordham: pre-med, pre-law, journalism. Cardiac morphogenesis was the course that broke him. He couldn't pronounce it. He couldn't pass it.
He was 20 years old, sitting in his mother's beauty shop in Mount Vernon, when an elderly woman under a hair dryer pointed at him and said he was going to travel the world and speak to millions of people.
He went back to Fordham and switched majors a fourth time. Theater.
Two years later he played Othello as a senior. Graduated 1977. American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco. Film debut 1981. Best Supporting Actor for Glory in 1989. Best Actor for Training Day in 2001. Tony in 2010. Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2025.
In 2011, Penn picked him as commencement speaker. The Oscars and the Tony made him eligible. His son Malcolm, a sophomore studying film, made him the actual pick. The university secretary called him their first choice, no debate.
The speech itself is about failure. He told the graduates he once had a 1.8 GPA. He failed an audition for a musical because he couldn't sing. He delivered it all in the cadence his father used in the pulpit. Reggie Jackson's 2,600 strikeouts. Edison's 1,000 failed experiments. The "fall forward" refrain ran the entire 22 minutes.
A single YouTube upload of the speech has crossed 35 million views. Every motivational compilation runs it. Every business school plays it.
The woman in the beauty shop said millions. She was off by two orders of magnitude.
When women’s sports received just 4% of media coverage, Haley Rosen built @justwsports to change that 🌟
Now the platform reaches 110M monthly as demand for women’s sports content continues to grow.
MORE: https://t.co/OzrXVvxz1F
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” — Maya Angelou
January asked us to begin again. What’s one thing you learned about yourself this month?
#JanuaryReflection#MayaAngelou#GentleGrowth#BeginAgain
Four Old Men. Two Wheelchairs. One Beach. Alan Alda’s 90th Birthday
January 28, 2026.
Alan Alda turned 90.
His family planned a safe celebration at home.
Cake. Balloons. Grandkids.
Alan said no.
“I don’t want a party,” he said.
His daughter frowned.
“Dad… you’re turning ninety. This is a big deal.”
“I know,” Alan said.
“But I don’t want to celebrate here.”
“Then where?”
Alan didn’t hesitate.
“I want to go to the beach.”
The room went still.
“The beach?”
“Dad, you’re in a wheelchair.”
“You can barely stand.”
Alan smiled.
That smile.
The Hawkeye Pierce smile — the one that always meant something stubborn was coming.
“So?”
By that afternoon, he had already decided who was coming.
“The four of us,” he said.
“The last four.”
Gary Burghoff.
Jamie Farr.
Mike Farrell.
And himself.
The final survivors of the 4077th.
“No cameras. No interviews. No speeches,” Alan said.
“Just us.”
The phone calls began.
Gary answered first.
“Happy birthday, old man! Ninety!”
“Thanks. I need you to drive.”
“Drive where?”
“To the beach.”
A pause.
“Alan… you’re in a wheelchair.”
“So are facts. They don’t stop me either.”
Gary laughed.
That Radar laugh Alan had known for over fifty years.
“Fine. But I’m not pushing you through sand.”
“I’ll crawl if I have to.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m Hawkeye. Same thing.”
Jamie Farr was next.
“The beach?” Jamie said.
“I’m ninety-one and in a wheelchair.”
“Then we’ll have two wheelchairs at the beach.”
“Like a parade?”
“Like a victory lap.”
Jamie laughed until his voice cracked.
“You haven’t changed since 1972.”
“And you’re still Klinger.”
“Fine. I’m in.”
Mike Farrell sighed the moment he answered.
“Let me guess,” he said.
“You want me to push your wheelchair.”
“Yes.”
“I’m eighty-six. I use a cane.”
“BJ Hunnicutt once saved a man with dental floss,” Alan said.
“You’ll manage.”
Long pause.
“…Fine.”
January 28. 6:00 a.m.
Gary arrived in a rented van.
Two wheelchair spaces.
He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.
At Alan’s house, his daughter hovered.
“Dad, are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
“What if something happens?”
“Something is always about to happen at ninety,” Alan said.
“Might as well happen at the beach.”
Jamie was waiting outside his house.
Wheelchair. Sunglasses.
Hawaiian shirt.
“You coordinated outfits?” Gary asked.
“It’s tradition,” Jamie said.
“The 4077th always matched.”
Mike showed up next.
Also in a Hawaiian shirt.
Four old men.
One van.
Heading west.
On the drive, memories filled the air.
Harry driving too fast.
Larry bringing his own wine.
Radar making everyone cry.
Klinger never sleeping.
When the MASH* theme song came on, no one spoke.
After it ended, Alan said quietly,
“That song used to annoy me.”
“Now?”
“Now it just reminds me how lucky we were.”
At Malibu, reality hit.
Wheelchairs don’t work on sand.
Jamie grumbled.
Mike rubbed his back.
Alan stared at the ocean.
Gary disappeared.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned with two lifeguards and two beach wheelchairs.
One lifeguard whispered,
“My grandmother watched MASH* every night.”
It took time.
Transfers were slow.
Hands trembled.
Bones protested.
But they made it.
To the water.
Alan closed his eyes.
The sound of waves.
Salt in the air.
Sun on his face.
“I forgot what this felt like,” he said.
They talked about the ones who weren’t there.
McLean.
Wayne.
Larry.
Harry.
Bill.
David.
Loretta.
Jamie finally broke the silence.
“Let’s race.”
Two wheelchairs.
Two pushers.
One rock.
They raced.
They tied.
People on the beach stared.
A teenager asked, “What are those old guys doing?”
His mother said, “Living.”
As the sun set, Alan spoke.
“This might be the last time.”
No one argued.
“That’s why it matters,” he said.
“Because we know.”
He made a wish.
“One more year.”
“One more adventure.”
“Korea. Together.”
They promised.
#MondayMotivation#Life is a one-time gift!
There are no repeats!
Let’s live our lives with meaning, purpose and intention by being truly present and by loving deeply! 🥰
#Gratitude#Love#Kindness
SOMEDAY YOU'LL MISS THE:
- camaraderie of your teammates
- coaches pushing you
- early morning training
- soreness after a tough workout
- challenge of facing a tough opponent
- road trips
- shape you're in right now
APPRECIATE THEM TODAY
before they're gone.
#CultureWins
Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to conduct a leadership training session with an executive team at Lululemon (a great organization comprised of competent, humble, and open-minded people).
One of the concepts we explored was Nassim Taleb’s idea of antifragility.
Accordingly to Taleb, there are three responses to adversity:
Fragile — Break under pressure.
Resilient — Bounce back to previous form.
Antifragile — Bounce back stronger than before.
Taleb’s insight is powerful:
Antifragile systems don’t just recover; they improve. They become sharper, smarter, and stronger due to stress.
It reminds me of the quote, “Wind can blow out a candle, but it fuels a fire.”
The goal isn’t to avoid failure. It’s to build an antifragile system—one that becomes stronger because of it.
Your system is perfectly designed to get the results you’re consistently getting.
A good question: “Why am I not getting the outcomes I’m working for?”
A better question: “What is it about my system, (specifically) that is producing these results?”
At the elite level, hard work is necessary but not sufficient. What separates the best isn’t the hours; it’s what they do inside those hours. It’s not just working hard. It’s working hard on the right things, in the right way, over and over again.
Sociologist Daniel Chambliss called this the "Mundanity of Excellence." After five years studying swimmers from learn-to-swim programs to the Olympic team, he found that champions don’t train more; they train differently. Their techniques are different. Their mindset is different. Their attention to detail is different.
For your team, the question isn’t “How do we do more?” It’s “How do we do it better?” The tone of your voice, the precision of a drill, the way you communicate with every player at practice — those small upgrades compound.
More isn’t better, better is better.
In 2000 when RJ was kicked out of preschool because he was “unteachable” and “antisocial” …It was one of the most painful days of my life as a mom.
I could never imagine that 25 years later,
he would be the subject of such a heartwarming inspirational pregame story🥹 💙🙏🏽⚾️
Coach extended ✍️
2025 @MLV__Official Coach of the Year Kayla Banwarth is here to stay and has signed a contract extension ‼️
#AtlantaVibe | #ThatsOurVibe
The Bird has landed in the A 🐦
Join us in welcoming Bird to the Vibe as our inaugural General Manager and Assistant Coach 👏
Bird led the Supernovas to the inaugural championship in '24 and regular season champions in '25!
#AtlantaVibe | #ThatsOurVibe