I grew up very much in a sporting background. I always wanted to

Bradley James once reflected: “I grew up very much in a sporting background. I always wanted to be an actor, but my escapism always came in sports.” These words are the confession of a soul divided yet strengthened by two worlds: the realm of play and the realm of performance, the field of contest and the stage of story. In them we hear the echo of the eternal human longing—for both discipline and imagination, for both the sweat of effort and the flight of dreams.

To be raised in a sporting background is to be nurtured in the language of endurance, teamwork, and victory earned by toil. The athlete learns to push the body, to discipline the mind, to accept both triumph and defeat with dignity. This was the ground upon which James’s early years were built. Yet even as his days were filled with the rhythm of sport, his heart whispered of another calling: to become an actor, to embody stories, to breathe life into characters. Here lies the duality of his life—strength drawn from sport, but purpose found in art.

The role of escapism is central to his words. For in the hours of play, one finds freedom from the weight of the ordinary. On the field, the burdens of youth—fears, doubts, insecurities—are left behind, replaced by the clear simplicity of competition. To chase a ball, to run until lungs burn, to strive for the goal—these become doorways into another world, much like stepping upon a stage transforms an actor into another self. In sports, Bradley James found the same liberation that art would later give him: the chance to transcend the limits of everyday life.

This truth has been echoed throughout history. Consider the life of Alexander the Great, who as a boy trained in both philosophy and the arts of war. His tutor, Aristotle, gave him the world of ideas, while his training on the battlefield gave him the world of action. Both shaped him. Or think of the poet-soldier Archilochus, who wielded both the spear and the lyre, using one to fight and the other to escape into expression. In the same way, James’s early sporting escapism became a foundation upon which his later artistry was built.

The wisdom of his words reminds us that the paths of body and spirit are not separate but entwined. Many who pursue greatness in one sphere find strength in the other. The actor who has known the discipline of the athlete carries into his craft resilience and focus. The athlete who loves storytelling finds courage in imagining himself a hero before ever stepping into the arena. Thus, Bradley James is not divided, but whole—his sports prepared him for his art, and his art gave meaning to the strength he once found in play.

The deeper lesson is this: do not dismiss your escapes. What you flee to in moments of longing may become the soil of your future strength. If you, like James, run to sports for freedom, it may give you the discipline to later pursue your true calling. If you flee to art, to music, or to dreams, it may reveal the path of your destiny. Escapism is not always weakness; it can be the soul’s way of practicing for its truest work.

Therefore, children of striving, take heed: embrace both the discipline of the body and the flights of the imagination. Let your sports teach you endurance, and let your escapism guide you toward the dream you secretly cherish. For Bradley James shows us that even if the heart longs for one calling, the escapes of youth may prepare the way. In the end, nothing is wasted. Every field played upon, every stage dreamed of, every act of endurance and every act of imagination—together they shape the hero you are meant to become.