Princeton University Athletics
Lucy Small: Keynote Address
March 31, 2000 | General
Senior Lucy Small, a two-time All-America lacrosse player, delivered the following speech at the Princeton Varsity Club Senior Athlete Banquet on May 27, 1999.
The last time this group was assembled was during Freshman Week almost four years ago. If I remember correctly, during one of the presentations we were told that by the end of our four years here, the number of student-athletes in our class would be cut by half. So, for those of us who made it this far, I believe congratulations are in order.
First, to the parents and coaches in the room: Throughout our time as athletes you have driven us to practice, supported our various endeavors, coordinated tailgates, guided us, picked us up when we were down, watched us proudly in victory, tamed egos and taught lessons. Without your unsung heroics we would not be here today. This accomplishment belongs to you as much as it does to us.
Second, for the student-athletes: Amidst rushing from class to practice, practice to class, grabbing dinner with friends, writing and binding a thesis, celebrating victories and learning from losses, we rarely stop and think how great an accomplishment graduating from Princeton as a student-athlete is. Yet, I also believe in tempering our congratulations because gaudy self-praise is not something I learned during my five seasons as a Princeton athlete. What I did learn, and what I believe to be the single characteristic unifying all of us here tonight, is the virtue of being a scrapper. However, it was not until this winter that I began to comprehend how the experience of being an athlete distinguishes all of us.
While at a job interview this winter, I was surprised with the following question: "What is the one word you would use to describe yourself?" Having never given thought to the topic and feeling the need to quickly answer the soul-searching question, I blurted out, "I am a scrapper." Clearly taken aback by my response and probably accustomed to more euphemistic answers, the interviewer asked me to explain myself, and I will do the same for you tonight.
What I told her was that in getting into Princeton and finding a certain level of success, I had never been the smartest student in the classroom or best athlete on the field, but I had always worked hard, challenged myself and fought any number of doubts about my abilities coming from others: That girls can't play sports, that I was not smart enough to get into Princeton, that students can't be athletes or conversely athletes can't be students, and that Princeton's student-athletes can't compete successfully at the national level. In fighting these criticisms I had developed the attitude of a scrapper, and I believe that this is something we all share in common. Despite its usual association, I do not believe that being a scrapper reflects one's abilities. Instead, it is an attitude that encompasses fight, determination, perseverance, hard work, desire and passion.
By virtue of our identity as student-athletes at Princeton, we have developed the characteristics of a scrapper. On a daily basis we defied the assumptions of those around us. We faced professors who believed that academics and athletics must be mutually exclusive endeavors. We shared classrooms with fellow students who questioned our academic abilities by virtue of our identity as athletes. We heard the reservations of doubters who believed that Princeton couldn't beat a scholarship school. And, we received the advice of doctors who believed it impossible to come back from a season-ending injury to dominate their opponent. In my four years here I have watched my friends and fellow athletes defy all these criticisms and emerge with an amazing degree of success, pride and sense of accomplishment. Within these circumstances and accomplishments we display the virtues of scrappers and join the ranks of Princeton's long tradition of successful student-athletes.
Throughout our four years many of us have had our hard work commended with both individual and team awards. But, for every Ivy League champion and All-America, there are those of us whose efforts have not received the positive reinforcement awarded the prolific goal scorers and record setters. For every athlete whose name has reached the headlines, there are a great many who work just as hard, sweat just as much and equally feel the pain of defeat and the pleasure of victory. Among these scrappers whom I proudly call my friends stands a teammate who suffered two years in the training room to finish her career on the field with her teammates, a walk-on swimmer who rarely missed the two-a-day practices required by her sport knowing that she would probably never swim in the team's championship meet and a distance runner whose body could no longer log the miles. It is by virtue of these scrappers that we push ourselves and realize how fortunate we are to have the opportunity to play.
It has been 17 years since I first put on cleats and played on a team, and a few weeks since I last wore the orange and black. Although we all have competed in our last games as Tigers, in many ways it is an identity we will never shed. The bruises have faded. The calluses are all but gone. The muscles are perhaps not as toned. And as my dad and I discussed a few weekends ago, there are no more games to play. As we begin to look beyond our lives as Princeton students and athletes, we do so with an excellent diploma in our hands and, more important, the virtues of a scrapper in our hearts.