I lost out on winning $1,200 on an NCAA Football parlay ticket with one second left on the clock. Nine games, $5 bet, eight wins. With one second remaining, the San Diego Aztecs scored a touchdown to change the final score — blowing my spread by five points. I was grabbing my shoes to head to the casino to collect. It was done. It was in the bag. And then it wasn't.
This once again proves the principle that it's never over until it's over. Unfortunately, in our careers, we count ourselves out, or others count us out, long before they should.
We assume the decision has already been made, the window has already closed, the momentum is already gone, and the story is already written, even when there is still time on the clock and variables we cannot see yet. We talk ourselves into certainty because uncertainty feels uncomfortable, and it is easier to accept a quiet loss than to stay mentally engaged in a game that feels like it is slipping away.
What that parlay reminded me of, in the most annoying way possible, is that outcomes can change in an instant — both for better and for worse. One second was enough to erase a win I thought was guaranteed, which means one conversation, one decision, one risk, or one unexpected break is also enough to change a career that feels stuck or stalled.
Most people don't fail because they lack talent or effort. They fail because they mentally cash out too early. They stop applying, stop raising their hand, stop pushing, stop believing things can still move in their favor — all while the game is technically still being played. They protect themselves from disappointment by lowering expectations, but in doing so, they also quietly remove themselves from contention.
It is never over until it is actually over, and pretending otherwise only guarantees the result you say you are trying to avoid. You do not get to control how things end, but you do get to decide whether you stay in it until the clock hits zero. And sometimes, staying in it is the only edge you actually have.