I love various sports, including basketball, tennis and

Yani Tseng, one of the great champions of golf, once confessed, “I love various sports, including basketball, tennis and billiards.” At first, these words may seem simple, no more than a casual admission of her interests. Yet within them lies a deeper truth, one that speaks to the ancient wisdom of balance, versatility, and the joy of movement. For she does not limit herself to one path alone, nor bind her spirit to a single contest. Instead, she embraces the variety of sports, seeing in each a lesson, a discipline, and a joy that nourishes the whole person.

In the world of the ancients, the most celebrated were not those who excelled in only one thing, but those who sought harmony across many. The Greeks honored the pentathlete at Olympia, the one who could run, jump, wrestle, and throw. For they believed that true excellence was not narrow but broad, not confined but expansive. To love basketball, tennis, and billiards alongside golf is to recognize that strength of spirit comes from many directions, and that the human body and mind are enriched when tested in diverse ways.

Each of the sports Tseng mentions carries its own wisdom. Basketball teaches teamwork, rhythm, and endurance—it is the dance of many becoming one. Tennis sharpens agility, focus, and the art of the duel—two souls contending with nothing but their skill and will. Billiards trains the eye, the patience, and the subtle calculations of precision—it is the contest of mind and hand working as one. Together, these loves reveal the heart of a champion who sees not just games, but disciplines of life, each shaping her in a different way.

History offers us examples of this truth. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who was not only a painter, but an engineer, a musician, a thinker, and an anatomist. His genius did not come from focusing on one art alone, but from letting the many arts inform each other. The patience of the scientist enriched the vision of the painter; the music of his instruments gave rhythm to his inventions. In the same way, Tseng’s appreciation for varied sports reveals a spirit unwilling to be confined, a spirit that seeks fullness of growth through diversity of practice.

The emotional power of her words lies in their humility. A woman who stood at the top of the golfing world did not claim golf as her only source of joy. Instead, she celebrated the love of many sports, reminding us that even champions are students, and even specialists benefit from variety. It is a call to widen our view, to remember that greatness does not mean isolation, but openness—that the soul must not be trapped in one narrow pursuit, but allowed to breathe in the many wonders of life.

For the seeker of wisdom, the lesson is clear: embrace the many paths of growth. Do not fear to step beyond your specialty, nor to try what lies outside your comfort. Each sport, each discipline, each new attempt carries within it a lesson that strengthens the whole. In diversity, you will find balance; in variety, you will find resilience; in many loves, you will find renewal. To love only one thing may make you strong in one way, but to love many makes you whole.

What then must we do? Seek variety in your days. Play the games that test your body in new ways, that sharpen your mind in fresh directions, that remind your spirit of joy. If you are skilled in one art, step into another, and let it teach you something new. Do not measure your life only by achievement, but by the breadth of experience. In this way, every game becomes not just play, but a lesson, not just contest, but growth.

Thus Yani Tseng’s words echo with timeless wisdom: to love many sports is to love life in its fullness. Each game is a teacher, each contest a mirror, each pursuit a path to wholeness. Follow this teaching, and you will not only master one discipline, but become a being of balance, joy, and strength, ready for whatever field life places before you.