Today I wrote a letter to a Florida State football player named Brandon Jenkins, who was diagnosed with a season-ending left foot injury after the first game of this, his senior season. I mailed it to him this afternoon.
Dear Brandon,
My name is Logan Simpson. I will try to keep this letter brief, but ever since I heard that your injury was season-ending I have had an inexplicable urge to write to you. You and I are not so different. I have been where you are.
I am twenty-two years old, graduated last May from a small, Division I school in North Carolina called Gardner-Webb. For much of my life, my biggest goal was to swim in college, preferably at the Division I level. I signed a scholarship offer from Gardner-Webb and, having arrived at my goal, prepared to set to work on building a great athletic career, envisioning conference championships and maybe an eventual Olympic Trials qualification. After four weeks of team practice, I went to the doctor, complaining of pain in both my shoulders. Before I even swam one meet with my new team, I was told that I had torn the labrum in each of my shoulders and needed double shoulder surgery. My season was over and was instead spent working through a painful recovery process. It was the hardest year of my life, but I returned my sophomore year, ready to begin my four years in earnest after redshirting the previous one.
This time I made it to the first meet, then swam another, slowly inching my way back to the level I was before my injury. That November, we swam at a midseason invitational at Georgia Tech, competing against some the nation's elite teams (there was a team from Gainesville competing there, but I prefer not to mention obscenities here - besides I'm not even sure their university is actually accredited). I was finally reaching some of my old times in the pool, finally improving again. Then, in the middle of the 100-yard butterfly, I felt my left shoulder tear again. I finished the race, took off my goggles, threw them down at the pool deck as hard as I could, and went straight to a secluded corner of the venue where I could be alone to process what had just happened. And there in that corner, just between you and me Brandon, I cried. I was devastated. I knew after all the work I had put in from the age of seven, my career was about to end like this, on the brink of becoming good, an unremarkable career set against the backdrop of some of the nation's best teams competing at the pool that hosted the Atlanta Olympics. And I was right - it was the last race I would swim.
I tell you this story in the hopes that, in it, you might find solidarity, that someone else has felt some of the things you are feeling and can say, "me too." Last Saturday, I was watching the FSU/Wake Forest game on television, thoroughly enjoying the thrashing Wake was receiving, when the camera focused on you, watching the action from the sideline, the commentator saying something about your being an All-American candidate and how crushing a blow your loss was to the Seminoles' defense. He quickly moved on, discussing Bjoern and Tank and Mario, and how they would be asked to pick up the slack. To be sure, replacing you is a tall order - I greatly admire the way you play the game. I was taken aback at how quickly the commentator moved on to talking about the other defensive linemen. It seemed like there should have been a highlight reel showing some of your accomplishments, your greatest plays, the hard work you have put into rebuilding what has become once again one of the nation's elite defenses.
Partly, I think I wanted to tell you that you have not been forgotten. Though the team must move on and put new players on the field in your stead, you have not been replaced. We still remember the great things you have done over your first three years at Florida State and thank you for your hard work. When FSU takes the field against Clemson Saturday night, though everything inside of you surely longs to be on the field taking shots at Tajh Boyd and Andre Ellington, just know that there will be fans thinking of you, remembering what you've done for the program, and wishing you well in your recovery from injury.
As I mentioned earlier, the year I sat out was the hardest of my life. I withdrew from my teammates, jealous of their ability to swim healthily. I wanted people to feel as sorry for me as I did. I stopped taking care of myself. There is so much potential for a misfortune like this shape you for the worse if you let it. Because hardship such as this will shape you. I did not realize this and allowed my misfortune to shape me negatively for too long. All along, I asked "why?" but that was the wrong question. I still don't know why it happened. The correct question to ask was and is "what now?" How will I respond? How can I redeem this terrible situation?
I urge you to find strength from those around you, from this letter, to rally around your teammates, finding ways to impact your team. I did not realize what kinds of contributions I could have made outside of the pool, even as a lowly freshman. I want to encourage you to have faith that this injury, senseless though it seems, can be given purpose, can make sense if you cause it to. You can give it meaning and I encourage you to do so. As incredible a player and leader as you have been on the field, I have no doubt that you can thrive in this challenging situation. I have heard the voices of disappointment and hope that you can silence them and press on. I have felt the pain of injury rehabilitation and hope you will find strength to push through, to heal in preparation for what I firmly believe will be an exceptional and wildly successful football career for years to come.
For too long, I felt that I had let people down by getting hurt. My dad was the coach of my college swim team and, above all, I felt that I had disappointed him. I carried that with me for a long time before I realized that feeling was not coming from my father - it was coming from me. You have let nobody down. Your value is not determined by your ability to play football, but by your intrinsic value as a human being.
Thank you again for your hard work as a Florida State football player. I wish you well in your recovery from this injury.
All the best,
Logan Tyler Simpson
