You can easily get depressed. Usually, if you play sports, you

In the words of Naomi Osaka, “You can easily get depressed. Usually, if you play sports, you think that one match or one game is very important, and when you lose it, you think your whole world is over.” These are not words of arrogance, but of raw honesty. Osaka speaks as one who has felt the crushing weight of expectation, the invisible chains of perfection, and the despair that follows defeat. Her statement is not about sports alone—it is about the human tendency to magnify failure until it eclipses the light of all other things.

The meaning of this saying rests upon the nature of perspective. The athlete, standing upon the stage, feels as though every contest is the measure of their worth. One loss appears as total ruin, one stumble as the end of a dream. Yet this is the illusion of the moment. The heart convinces itself that the battle before it is all of life, when in truth life is vast and filled with many contests. Osaka’s wisdom reminds us that despair often comes not from defeat itself, but from the belief that defeat is final.

The ancients understood this sorrow. The great Achilles, when his beloved Patroclus fell, withdrew from the war, consumed by grief, believing all was lost. For a time, his whole world was indeed over. Yet when he rose again, he discovered that purpose remained, even amidst pain. So too do athletes and ordinary souls alike find that the end of one game is not the end of existence, but only one passage in the long journey. To see beyond the moment of loss is the mark of wisdom and resilience.

History gives us many examples. Consider Michael Jordan, who was famously cut from his high school basketball team. In that moment, he too must have felt the sting of despair, as though his world had ended. Yet rather than surrender, he turned his disappointment into determination, and from that soil grew one of the greatest careers the world has ever known. Osaka’s words remind us of this same truth: that the pain of one defeat is not the end, but the beginning of renewal, if only we rise again.

The emotional depth of Osaka’s words also lies in her courage to admit depression. For too long, the world demanded from its athletes—and indeed from all people—a mask of strength that concealed suffering. But true strength is found in honesty, in speaking aloud the struggles that all endure. By confessing that the weight of a single match can feel like the end of the world, Osaka gives voice to countless others who have felt the same despair in their own lives. In this way, her words are both personal and universal.

The teaching here is clear: do not measure your worth by a single loss. Do not let one stumble erase the path of your journey. A contest, however great, is but a fragment of life. To dwell too long upon failure is to shrink the soul; to rise again is to enlarge it. Just as dawn follows even the darkest night, so too new opportunities follow every defeat. The wise do not deny sorrow, but they refuse to let it define their whole existence.

So, O listener, let this be your path: when you fall, mourn if you must, but rise again with courage. When you lose, remember that the world is not over, but still before you. Whether in sports, in work, in love, or in life itself, do not let a single failure become your whole identity. Learn, endure, and prepare for the battles yet to come. For true greatness is not in never being broken, but in rising every time the world tries to break you.

And thus the lesson is eternal: defeat is temporary, but resilience is everlasting. Let Naomi Osaka’s words remind you that the end of one chapter is not the end of the story, and that every soul, like every athlete, is called not only to win, but to endure, to rise, and to continue the game of life with unyielding spirit.