Persona Blog

    There’s a general conviction out there in this world that hard work beats talent. I personally think that’s the biggest and most bold-faced lie that could ever be told to young children when you know that they'll never reach the top. It’s the cold, honest truth that talent wins over hard work every single time.

    A common fable told to appease the hopeful and encourage the youth is the tale of the tortoise and the hare. In this common fairy tale that I’m sure everyone has heard, the hare, genetically born with the tools to move at a faster rate and thus the “talent”, loses a race to a tortoise who crawls at the speed of a slug. The hare establishes a clear and massive lead early on and gets complacent, allowing the persevering tortoise to inch past the hare and past the finish line. This metaphor represents how a person with natural advantages and talent can get lazy and fall behind to a person who has the grit and determination to fight through their shortcomings. Although it’s a feel-good story and something that you can tell your children as you tuck them in for bed, it’s complete nonsense and fiction.

    Therefore, I have confidence that I am better at soccer than anyone in all of Mrs. Valentino’s classes. Why? Because I was born with the natural talent and genes that put me above the rest. I am superior to everyone when it comes to the ball game. No one can keep up with me. No matter how hard you train and practice, unless I get a severe injury or gain an extreme amount of weight that restricts from moving at my swiftest and my best, no one in her class will ever be better. It’s just the simple and honest truth.

    On the other hand, I know I’ll never be better at basketball than someone like LeBron James. He was born with all the talent when it comes to basketball. If I could just simply work my butt off and get better at basketball than LeBron, you can bet I would quit school in a heartbeat and start training right here and right now. I’d love to have a cool $1 billion in the bank and rack in an additional $47.61 million every year. However, I’m rooted in reality and I know for a fact that I probably won’t ever be as good as LeBron, no matter how hard I work. I’m sure I would break his ankles in soccer though.