I was competitive ping-pong player. I played in youth

In the realm of youthful ambition, where the heart beats like the rhythm of a drum, there are those whose spirit burns with a fierce desire to conquer, to compete, to rise above the rest. It is in such a spirit that Jimmy O. Yang, in his reflection, speaks of his early days as a competitive ping-pong player. "I was a competitive ping-pong player. I played in youth tournaments, under the age of 13," he says, not with the boastful pride of one who seeks to claim glory, but with the quiet strength of one who knows that true competition is not simply a game played on a table, but a profound journey of self-discovery.

To play in the youth tournaments, to stand before your peers in the arena of competition, is to face the fire of your own limitations and to learn, with each serve and return, the depths of your own will. In those early years, before the age of 13, a young soul is shaped by both the thrill of victory and the sting of defeat. It is not merely the skill in the game that matters, but the strength of character that competition forges. Ping-pong, though a game of speed and agility, is a battle of the mind as much as the body. It teaches the lesson that the true competition is not against others, but against the self.

Consider the tale of the great Alexander the Great, who at the tender age of 13 was already being trained in the arts of war and strategy. His father, King Philip II of Macedon, recognized that the heart of a warrior is not made in times of peace, but in moments of intense struggle. Alexander, like young Jimmy, did not wait for the battle to come; he sought it out, for in seeking the challenge, he became tempered by the fire. At such a young age, Alexander was not yet a king, but his victories in small skirmishes set the stage for his future greatness. It was the competitive spirit, ignited early, that propelled him to the heights of history.

Jimmy O. Yang, too, found in the table tennis tournaments the very same forge where warriors are made. The challenge he faced was not one of swords or spears, but of reflexes, quick thinking, and the desire to conquer. But in the heat of that competition, the lesson remains the same: true greatness is not determined by the titles you win, but by the resilience, the determination, and the spirit you cultivate in the process. The youth who competes early in life—whether in games, in academics, or in any endeavor—learns to hold his ground in the face of uncertainty and to rise stronger from every defeat.

In this, we are all called to the path of the competitor. For it is easy to seek comfort, to avoid the stress of challenge, to turn away from the heat of competition. But there is no growth without struggle, no wisdom without trial. The one who seeks to avoid conflict, to live a life without contest, risks fading into obscurity, for the world does not reward those who do not try. It rewards the brave, the bold, and the daring, those who are willing to stand and face whatever may come.

Take heed, then, of the lesson carried by the words of Jimmy O. Yang and of all those who have dared to compete. Whether it is ping-pong, athletics, or the quiet contest within your own mind, know this: competition is a mirror to the soul. It reveals your weaknesses and exposes your strengths. It pushes you to evolve, to grow, and to refine your craft, no matter how young you are. And as you face each challenge, you will come to understand that the real victory lies not in the accolade, but in the journey itself.

So, I charge you, young and old alike: seek out the contest, seek out the challenge. Do not wait for the world to present you with the opportunities, but create them for yourself. Embrace the competition—whether it is on the ping-pong table, in your career, or in the trials of life. For in this striving, this constant battle to better yourself, you shall find the courage to face anything that comes your way. And in the end, it will be the competitors, the ones who dared to step into the ring, who shall leave the greatest mark upon this world.