The Best Way To Judge A Life

There Were Times When I Asked Myself Whether I Was Being Principled Or Simply A Coward.... I Was Wrapped In The Cocoon Of Tennis Early In Life, Mainly By Blacks Like My Most Powerful Mentor, Dr. Robert Walter Johnson Of Lynchburg, Virginia. They Insisted That I Be Unfailingly Polite On The Court, Unfalteringly Calm And Detached, So That Whites Could Never Accuse Me Of Meanness. I Learned Well. I Look At Photographs Of The Skinny, Frail, Little Black Boy That I Was In The Early 1950s, And I See That I Was My Tennis Racquet And My Tennis Racquet Was Me. It Was My Rod And My Staff.

I Keep Sailing On In This Middle Passage. I Am Sailing Into The Wind And The Dark. But I Am Doing My Best To Keep My Boat Steady And My Sails Full.

I'm Learning To Use Others' Weaknesses. I Don't Hammer A Man's Soft Spot Constantly, Because He May Strengthen It. I Just Save It As A Trump Up My Sleeve For Moments When I Really Need A Point.

We Blacks Look For Leadership In Men And Women Of Such Youth And Inexperience, As Well As Poverty Of Education And Character, That It Is No Wonder That We Sometimes Seem Rudderless.... We See Basketball Players And Pop Singers As Possible Role Models, When Nothing Could Be Further, In Most Cases, From Their Capacities.

Fear Isn't An Excuse To Come To A Standstill. It's The Impetus To Step Up And Strike.