I never wanted to be famous. I only wanted to be great.
Fond memories coupled with a balmy 75-degree temperature bathed Pierce in a warm glow of happiness. San Diego truly was magnificent in mid-October. Summer had gracefully stepped aside, allowing fall her moment to shine as tourists faded back to their hometowns, leaving the resort relatively vacant.
Cool ocean waters had greatly benefited Pierce’s knee injury and forehead laceration. Sure, the forehead stung like crazy when he first dove into the frigid October surf, but there was nothing like a good salt bath to cleanse and heal. In the two days Pierce had spent at the beach, most of the scab dissolved as a fresh layer of skin emerged on the forehead, carefully shaded by a baseball cap purchased from the resort gift store. The swelling in his knee reduced dramatically, allowing him to surrender the splint. Jon’s cane, however, came in very handy for evening walks along the beach.
Pierce strolled on the beach one evening as waves crashed into the shore, massaging his feet with white, foamy strokes before retreating in the moonlight. As he reflected on his serendipitous meetings with Jon and Bobby, he felt incredibly lucky. The two men had imparted important life lessons, each uniquely different, yet possessing strong nuances of leadership—great leadership. Both had been team players and attributed their success to it. Neither operated from the ego, or “I.” ...