Brown: So you think you’re hot stuff

Long before I discovered things like beer or the fact that I had an affliction known as acute… Long before I discovered things like beer or the fact that I had an affliction known as acute procrastination, I used to compete in organized sports. And among the many lessons garnered from winning and losing, my mom imparted a tidbit that still resonates with me: Never believe your own press.

In the olden days I was a rather cocky schmuck, and I had no reservations letting anyone know it. Needless to say, being somewhat misguided in my perceptions, I had a knack for not taking in as much good advice as I should have.

Life and athletic activities continued on in the same pattern, with what sometimes seemed like my mom nagging at me. Not much really sank in until after I had made it to the middle school state wrestling tournament my eighth grade year.

I went into the tournament with a top seed, and the people who are apparently skilled in guessing such things projected that I would  place fifth in the state in my weight class. But, the supposedly predetermined outcome didn’t materialize. My weekend became something of a personal version of the Pitt-Utah football game.

After getting knocked out of the tournament early in the second day, I watched the rest of it from the bleachers.

The experience stung for a while, but I eventually figured out what had happened: I hadn’t listened to any of Mom’s ever-offered words of wisdom that weekend, nor had I taken a single piece of advice from my coach. Not a one of ’em.

My coach told me not to look at polls or online forums for what people might be saying about me. But like those scenes in movies when one character tells another not to look down and the latter inevitably does, I did.

I got caught up in the hype of my own success — without a doubt, a good way to lose one’s composure.

In a more recent example, after spending this past summer bugging all of the right people, I found myself in a position to accept a fairly prestigious internship. I was both humbled and excited, not only because I could learn more about the profession I want to go into at a high-profile place, but also because I wouldn’t have to spend my upcoming winter washing cars outside like I did last year.

My roommate offered to sit down with me to go over the company’s products and services so I could make a good impression. He sounded more excited about the opportunity than I was — and I was pretty excited.

But since my middle school realizations, I’d learned to keep my business to myself.

I’m not usually one to quote the Bible, but I really can’t put my thoughts to paper any better than by borrowing 1 Samuel 2:3: “Talk no more so exceeding proudly; let not arrogancy come out of your mouth.”

Luckily for anyone not well-versed in scripture out there, the much more palatable and contemporary Jay-Z has a similar phrase for such a situation: “Made men don’t make statements.”

I’d trust what he has to say. He is “Hova,” after all.

Unless you’re in a job interview or other similar situation, there are very few reasons to boast obnoxiously. And there are even fewer reasons to get caught up in any unnecessary, unwarranted hype.

Having written for the school newspaper for a while now, I’ve said things that have been received with outpourings of both praise and outrage.

With the exceptions of extending thanks to people who have supported me and the time when I jokingly asked out a girl who wanted me fired for some comments I made in a column, I’ve figured keeping my own counsel is the way to go.

I’ve modeled my approach off a guy who went much farther in the sport of wrestling than I ever did — a guy that beat the snot out of me twice in high school — Eastern Michigan University’s Mike Miller.

When I recall the details from tournaments we were both at, I remember that he would pace around hours before his matches, never taking off his headphones. At first, I thought he was one of the most antisocial people I’ve ever met.

For a while, I thought he might have been like Warren, the brother with disabilities from “There’s Something About Mary.” But it turned out neither was the case. He just tuned everyone out and went about winning.

Judging by the fact that he came in second place at the 2009 NCAA Division I finals to another guy that beat the snot out of me back in high school, I’d say his strategy worked.

Modesty was never one of my stronger suits, but through people like Miller, I learned that success need not be flashy or highly publicized. Rather, personal victories are often the most satisfying.

Don’t worry, Jacob will be back with a polarizing political column next week. E-mail him in the meantime at jeb110@pitt.edu or check out his blog at thingsthatrhymewithcars.wordpress.com.