"I didn't lose a fight until I was eleven, but when I did, to a kid named Cecil Collins, it devastated me. I came home and told Mama I was quitting the sport. Big mistake.
"You go on back in that ring and beat that boy!" She said. This from a woman who didn't want me boxing to begin with.
"You don't quit until you do what you set out to do!" So I went back and fought Cecil again. And again I lost.
"Go back and fight him again!" Mama said.
I did, and this time I beat him. It felt wonderful, like I'd just climbed Mt. Everest or hit the winning home run in the World Series.
"Well there you go!" Mama said, beaming. "Now you can quit!"
I didn't quit - there were some things even my wise Mama didn't understand - but you get the point. If I hadn't gone back in there and tried again and again, I probably would have spent a large part of my life regretting it.
But Mama knew how I'd feel once I won, all proud and happy. Her attitude wasn't, 'See? I was right.'
It was, "Don't you feel good having finished what you started?" It was that feeling that shaped my later approach to life, not the fact that I'd done what Mama asked, and that's why the lesson was so valuable. It really came from me; Mama just pushed me to get there."