When I was 11 my school held a sports day near Crystal Palace.

Chris Eubank Sr., the proud and eccentric champion of the boxing ring, once recalled a boyhood moment that carried with it the weight of destiny: “When I was 11 my school held a sports day near Crystal Palace. We were told we were going to play a rugby match. The ball was eventually passed to me and I was obviously expected to run with it. I took one look at all these players charging towards me, placed the ball on the ground and walked off the pitch.” At first, these words may sound humorous, even cowardly. Yet, like much in Eubank’s life, they reveal the wisdom of a man who refused to be bound by the expectations of the crowd.

For what was this act of walking off the pitch but the earliest sign of a spirit unwilling to be pushed into battles not his own? The other boys saw the rugby match as glory, a test of strength and courage. But to Eubank, it was chaos, a fight he had no desire to wage. His refusal was not weakness but clarity. In placing the ball on the ground, he declared: “This is not my path.” And in walking away, he took his first step toward the path that would lead him to boxing greatness, where the battle would be one-on-one, man against man, not mob against boy.

The ancients knew this kind of wisdom. Consider Socrates, who, when faced with the demands of the Athenian assembly to abandon philosophy, refused and chose death over conformity. Or Alexander, who rejected the safe life of Macedonian nobility to seek conquest in Asia. Both men understood what Eubank understood that day: that true greatness lies not in doing what is expected, but in discerning what is yours to do. The boy who walked off the rugby pitch was the man who would later stride into the boxing ring, not because others demanded it, but because his heart called him there.

This story is also a parable of courage—not the courage of charging forward blindly, but the courage to walk away when the path is wrong. How often do men and women march into battles not meant for them, simply because the world expects it? How often do they waste their strength, their years, their spirit in games that do not belong to them? Eubank teaches us that sometimes the bravest act is not to fight, but to refuse—to wait, to preserve oneself, until the true calling appears.

And indeed, his true calling did appear. From those early days of doubt and defiance, he rose to become one of Britain’s most celebrated boxers, a man of flamboyance, grit, and indomitable will. He chose his arena, and in that arena, he fought with all his strength. Had he forced himself to play rugby, he may have been crushed, forgotten, or broken. But in walking away, he preserved his destiny for the ring.

The lesson for us is profound: do not confuse conformity with courage. Do not let the roar of the crowd decide your battles. Like Eubank, learn to discern which fields are yours to fight upon. If the task before you feels alien to your spirit, lay it down. Walk away without shame, for life is not about winning every contest—it is about choosing the contests that truly belong to you.

Therefore, let his words echo in your heart: it is no disgrace to walk off the pitch if the game is not your own. Save your strength for the battles you were born to fight, for in those battles your greatness will be revealed. The true hero is not the one who fights every war, but the one who fights the right one with all his heart.

And so, the boy who walked away from rugby became the man who walked into boxing history. His story is our teaching: discern, choose, and follow the path that belongs to you—and there, and only there, will you discover your destiny.