Fall 10 Times. Rise 11.

Ryan sat alone on the school bench, staring at the soccer field where his teammates celebrated their latest win. He wasn't part of the game. He wasn’t even on the team anymore.

He had been cut—again.

It was the third time in a row he failed to make it past tryouts. Each time he had worked harder than before. Each time he believed, “This time I’ll make it.” And each time, the answer was still no.

He thought of quitting. Most people would. Why keep chasing something that clearly didn’t want you?

That night, Ryan told his mom he was done.

“I’m tired,” he said. “I keep trying, but I always fail. Maybe I’m just not meant for this.”

His mom didn’t argue. She simply asked, “What if every failure is not the end, but a step?”

“A step toward what?” Ryan asked.

“Toward your strength.”

Ryan didn’t reply. He didn’t understand it then. But something about those words stuck.

The next morning, instead of quitting, he made a new rule for himself:

"Fall 10 times. Rise 11."

He wrote it on a sticky note and stuck it to his mirror.

Ryan didn’t just want to play soccer anymore. He wanted to grow—stronger, smarter, better.

So he began training differently.

Not just harder—but smarter.

He studied videos of professional players.

He asked coaches questions.

He practiced footwork in the garage with cones made from water bottles.

He worked on his weaknesses: speed, stamina, and shooting precision.

Every single day.

And for the first time, something shifted.

He was no longer chasing a result—he was chasing growth.

Months passed.

The next school year came. Tryouts again.

The butterflies returned. So did the doubt. But something else came too—confidence.

Not because he thought he’d win, but because he knew he had already risen after every fall.

Tryouts were brutal. Only 15 spots. Over 60 boys competing.

Ryan gave everything.

He didn’t look at others. He focused on one thing only: his game. His journey.

When the list was posted, he didn’t rush. He walked. Calm, but trembling inside.

And then—he saw his name.

Ryan Carter – Midfield.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry.

He smiled.

Not because he made the team, but because he didn’t give up.

But that’s not where the story ends.

Making the team wasn’t the final victory. It was just the beginning.

Ryan wasn’t the best player. He didn’t score the most goals. But he became the one with the strongest mindset.

He encouraged others. He stayed after practice. He never blamed anyone—not even when they lost.

And by senior year?

He was team captain.

Not because he was the most talented.

But because he was the most resilient.

Years later, Ryan became a coach.

One day, a young boy came to him after being cut from the junior team.

Tears in his eyes, he asked, “Coach… should I give up?”

Ryan smiled.

He handed him a sticky note that read:

“Fall 10 times. Rise 11.”

And said, “That’s what I did. That’s what you’ll do.”

The Lesson:

You don’t need to win every time.

You don’t need to be perfect.

You just need to rise. One more time than you fall.

Life will knock you down.

People will doubt you.

You will fail, sometimes badly.

But that’s not the end of your story.

It’s the beginning.

🔑 Remember This:

Failure is not the opposite of success—it’s part of it.

Growth doesn’t come from easy wins, but from hard lessons.

Your story isn’t defined by how many times you fall, but by how many times you rise.

So if you’re tired, rest.

If you feel lost, pause.

But whatever you do—don’t give up.

Because the next time you rise might be the one that changes everything.

“Fall 10 times. Rise 11.”

Make that your story, too.