The Day I Wanted to Quit: A Lesson in Grit and Resilience

I’ve never wanted to quit so bad in my life!

I was 5 days into my first collegiate Fall Camp. For those unfamiliar, Fall Camp is intense football preparation in early August. It’s often the first time athletes compete after being recruited from High School

It’s the moment you realize the honeymoon is OVER.

Camp is everything, all at once. It’s baptism by fire. You’re thrown into drills, learning plays, running, lifting, watching film, and as a freshman, likely getting your ass handed to you.

Oh, and it’s likely 100 degrees in the August sun.

It’s pure hell.

That same year, MN Vikings lineman Korey Stringer died during Fall Camp from a heatstroke.

I came into Camp undersized. While I had raw talent, I had never played against guys as fast and strong as this.

My wide receiver coach, a short pit bull of a man with a curly mop-top nicknamed Coach Perm, screamed at me non-stop. “Mattison, you f-ing worthless idiot, can’t you do anything right?! How did you even get recruited?!”

The days were rough. The nights were worse.

After practice, I’d limp back to a 10x20 jail cell of a dorm room with no AC. To top it off, I had a 300 lb lineman for a roommate who snored like a freight train. It was misery.

I hit the wall on Day 5.

That morning, during 1-on-1 drills, future NFL cornerback Tony Beckham stepped up to guard me. 6-3, 200 lbs, 4.3 speed, and mean as hell.

As soon as he trotted out, my heart sank. “Anyone but him!” He immediately starts talking shit.

He walks up to play press man coverage. He’s standing two inches from my face. The quarterback says, “hut….” Tony immediately sticks me off the line. I’m going backward. He pulls my pads over my head and tosses me to the ground like a rag doll.

I had never felt so demoralized, humiliated, and punked in my life.

As I got up off the ground, I turned to walk away from the team. Pulling my pads back on, I had to hide the tears welling up. My whole perception of who I was, how talented I was, and whether or not I belonged there was obliterated in that moment. I wanted to walk off the field and turn in my pads right then and there. “F this,” I thought.

I called home that night and talked to my dad. I knew he wasn’t going to support me quitting. That’s just not something allowed in our family.

“You don't have to be the most talented to be the toughest.” I remember saying, “I hear you, I just don’t think I’ll play past this year. I don’t think it’s for me.”

My dad’s response: “Just grit your teeth and push through. Tough it out. You get to the end of the year, we can reevaluate then.”

So I stayed.

And each week, I got a little better. A little stronger. A little smarter.

And at the end of the year I won Offensive Redshirt Freshman of the Year.

Four years later, I was a senior captain.

And while there are a million lessons to be shared from my collegiate career, the primary one is that it's amazing what happens when you just keep showing up.

When you just don't quit.