So there was a fire inside me. And that fire inside you, it can

Hear, O children of life’s great contest, the words of John Newcombe, champion upon the field of tennis, who declared: “So there was a fire inside me. And that fire inside you, it can be turned into a negative form or a positive form. And I gradually realised that I had this fire and that it had to be used in a positive way.” These are no mere musings of a sportsman; they are the utterances of a man who discovered the ancient truth—that within each of us dwells a fire, a living flame of energy, passion, and will. This fire is a gift of the spirit, yet it is also a test, for it may consume or it may create, it may destroy or it may illuminate.

The ancients themselves knew of this inner flame. They called it thumos, the spirited part of the soul that gives courage in battle and drive in struggle. Left untamed, thumos becomes rage, bitterness, and ruin. But when disciplined and directed, it becomes valor, perseverance, and greatness. Newcombe, through the trials of his own career, came to see that the fire inside is not to be extinguished, but to be governed—like the hearth-fire of the household, which must be tended lest it burn the dwelling, but which, if rightly kept, warms and sustains the family.

Consider the early days of Newcombe himself. Like many athletes, he was fierce, restless, and driven by a force he barely understood. That same fire might have consumed him in arrogance, in reckless anger, in despair when defeat struck. Yet through experience, through battle upon the court, he learned the discipline of harnessing that power. By turning his flame toward effort, focus, and mastery, he became not only a victor in matches, but an example of how passion, rightly used, can shape destiny.

Let us remember also the tale of Alexander the Great, whose inner flame was vast as the rising sun. As a youth, he was known for quick temper and boundless ambition. That same fire might have destroyed him early, as it has undone many princes. But under the guidance of his teacher, Aristotle, and through his own vision, he directed that flame outward, forging empires, carrying culture, and uniting lands. True, his fire burned dangerously and sometimes recklessly, yet it shows how the energy within can move the world when harnessed with purpose.

Mark this well, O seekers of wisdom: the fire inside you cannot be denied. You may try to suppress it, but it will smolder, twist, and erupt in destructive ways. You may allow it to burn unchecked, and it will consume your peace and your relationships. Or you may, like Newcombe, learn to honor it, discipline it, and set it to noble tasks. The choice is yours—whether your inner flame will scorch your life with negativity, or blaze a path of positive strength.

Therefore, the teaching is this: do not fear your fire. Acknowledge it, for it is life itself. Ask yourself: “How shall I direct this force? Shall I waste it in anger, envy, and complaint? Or shall I use it to work, to create, to uplift, to endure?” Begin with small acts—channel your passion into daily labor, into discipline of body, into kindness toward others, into perseverance when trials rise. In this way, the fire will serve you, and not enslave you.

Practical wisdom says: when anger rises, breathe and transform it into determination. When restlessness consumes you, pour it into labor and craft. When ambition stirs, let it drive you to noble goals, not selfish conquest. This is the alchemy of the spirit, turning wild flame into radiant light. And so your life becomes like a torch, carried high, not only illuminating your own way, but kindling hope in others who walk behind you.

Take then Newcombe’s words as a command for your own journey: the fire inside you must be used in a positive way. Do not crawl from it, do not curse it, do not waste it. Instead, rise as its master, and let it drive you toward greatness, toward service, toward joy. For those who govern their fire become like the heroes of old—warriors not only in battle, but in life itself, blazing paths that endure long after the flame of their body is gone.

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