The end of a career

Listening to Roger Federer talk about his farewell to the game of tennis has given me an interesting perspective on what it means to face the end of a career.

The closest thing I've had to an "end of a career" is when I stopped debating. Throughout high school, I spent most of my time on the debate team. Over four years, I think I probably debated 300+ rounds. At the end of my career, I was proud but also slightly annoyed. I felt I could have done better.

There was a sense that my accomplishments didn't match my ability and that I could have and maybe even deserved to win more. As a result, reflecting on my debate career has been somewhat of a sore spot.

My initial reaction to Federer's retirement was similar. Federer came in and dominated tennis like no one had ever done before. From 2004 to 2007, he was undeniably the best player on tour and on track to be the greatest player of all time. When his main rivals Nadal and Djokovic entered, it became a dominance shared by three players. When talking about tennis's greatest of all time, the "Big Three" collectively shared the title.

However, now, at the end of his career, he no longer holds many of the records he once did. Nadal has more slams, Djokovic has more weeks at number 1, and Federer trails both in H2H. My initial reaction as a diehard Federer fan was to feel a bit of disappointment. Someone who was so good for so long ends up leaving the sport as #2 or #3.

I couldn't help but think that he could have accomplished and maybe even deserved to win more.

But I think my initial reaction is immature and a poor way of processing accomplishments. It was this quote from Roger that changed my perspective:

When listening to these words, it's easy to bring up "counterexamples" like Wimbledon 2019. But, a more mature view—the view Roger is describing—is that the end of a career is a time for gratitude, to just be thankful for all you've experienced.

Even without the statistics and accolades, tennis gave Roger a tremendous slice of the human experience. A career's worth is not determined by how it stacks up against other greats. Nor is it determined by victories, slams, or titles. When you decide to move on from tennis into a new chapter of life, your career is about what you've experienced. What was it like to win your first slam, hit that tweener, or just feel the emotions of playing in front of a huge crowd.

You can decide to rank your career against others based purely on performance. Or you can decide to acknowledge your fortune to have experienced something that few (if any) people ever experience.

If I, a fan, wasn't going to be satisfied with a career of Federer's caliber, nothing would make me happy ever.

Disappointment and failure

Yes, be upset and angry during your career and use it as motivation. When you are competing, try and win. I don't know if I consider myself a competitive person, but I definitely hate losing. Back when I was debating, I distinctly remember a round I lost—the other team dismantled us; we were absolutely crushed in front of a crowd of people watching.

Afterward, I told myself I never wanted to feel that way again. I used it as motivation and spent the next two weeks ignoring all my other responsibilities in favor of researching and practicing for my next tournament.

I think experiences and feelings like that are important and valuable. They humble us and make us improve. But when it's over, and you're done competing, all you need to know is you enjoyed the day-to-day and made some good memories.

There's nothing left to do or prove at the end of your career. By deciding to end it, you're also deciding not to advance it. You can be content or bitter, but your career isn't changing.

The notion of feeling fortunate and grateful, even in the face of retirement or failure, is something I've noticed among successful people. Conan O'Brien's Tonight Show farewell comes to mind:

This was an important realization for me. I'm working on separating the past and the present. The present is about wanting to be better, and that feeling that you should be better is a valuable source of motivation. But the past is about the experiences you've had.