We were all convinced that Irene was going to end up on Broadway.
The students knew it. The teachers knew it. The parents knew it.
And sitting in the high school auditorium as a talentless spectator of that year’s Spring play, I knew it too.
I’m not sure if they were doing “Pippin” or “Grease” or maybe it was “Brigadoon” but one thing was for certain, Irene was a star and she was going places.
She could sing like Streisand. She could act like Meryl. She was able to emote at a level that was head and shoulders above all the other juniors and seniors.
She was, for certain, going to be the second coming of Bette Midler or, at the very least, would supplant Molly Ringwald as John Hughes’ muse in his next movie.
Debbie Gibson became a teen superstar from a neighboring high school and “all” she could do was sing. What Irene had was much, much more special.
Before you start racking your brain trying to think which famous “Irene” came out of Wantagh High School (was it Irene Cara or…..you probably can’t even name another famous Irene, I know I can’t) I’m going to relieve you of the suspense. Our Irene never made it big.
Talent is a funny thing. There is really only one way to assess how special it is. And that is in comparison to other talent.
We only know who the best football team is because they play other teams. We only know who the strongest squatter is by holding competitions (or, in our case, writing it on our wall). We only know who the top pop singers are by looking at the charts or the streaming services.
It was easy for anyone with eyes or ears to realize that Irene was the most talented performer among the five hundred or so kids at my school. But the world is filled with a lot of talent. And a lot more than 500 people.
And this leads me - thankfully quickly this week as my last few blogs have been painfully long (I apologize) - to my two pearls of wisdom.
The first is that there is always someone (and usually loads of people) who is faster, stronger, smarter, richer and more talented and successful than you. Sure, you may be able to out deadlift everyone in your gym by 50 kgs. But that just means you are likely in the wrong gym (more on that in a second).
This is something that the old-timers like me have already realized, but having this perspective should lead you to approach every training session (and any other activity, really) with an air of humility.
Listen, I love shit talking in the gym as much as the next guy but unless you are playing it for laughs you are letting your ego get in the way of the actual joy of training. Plus you just come off like an inexperienced jackass. Cause if you knew better you’d know there’s always someone stronger, handsomer, more talented and who writes better blogs than you.
Which leads me seamlessly to my second point. You need to surround yourself with winners. Those who are ahead of you (either slightly or by some measure) and have achieved what you’ve only dreamed about achieving.
Because those people will provide the inspiration, belief and blueprint of what is possible. It’s why incubators and training camps and think tanks work so well. It’s very hard to be successful in a vacuum. If you have no one pushing you and showing you what is possible you will never believe you can do it or even strive towards it.
You want to be in an environment where what you thought was barely doable is commonplace. Wanna squat 150 kilos? Train around others who are routinely squatting 200. Want to grow your business from 3 million per year to 5 million? Hang around with guys who run 10 million dollar businesses.
Don’t paint in your bedroom, go to art school.
Don’t throw fast balls against the school yard wall, get in a game.
Surrounding yourself with other achievers who are ahead of you will give you a reality check as to where you actually are and give you a target of what you can hope to one day be. And as long as these people are supportive of your goals, it’s the greatest community you can be a part of.
As far as I know, Irene is doing just fine. According to Facebook she has three kids and works in a financial management office two towns over from where we grew up.
Even though we went to a small school, she and I weren’t really close - she being a musical theater prodigy and me being basketball jock/art nerd we ran in different circles. But I’d love to ask her how she felt about being “the next Bette” all those years ago.
Was it exciting? Was she feeling pressure? Is she disappointed that it didn’t really work out?
Was she happy being the big fish for a while?
Or was she talented enough to know that there is just so much talent out there.