Last Saturday may have been one of the best days of my life. The only two that better it at… Last Saturday may have been one of the best days of my life. The only two that better it at this point are my birth and the first time I realized that pizza tastes even better cold at breakfast. After those two occasions comes April 8, 2006.

I, Sam Ginsburg, scored the winning run in a highly competitive softball game. Even better, the game was in extra innings and my score capped off a monumental comeback. We had been down four runs in the game and ended up winning dramatically, 10-8. This was the first time in my entire life that I played a critical role in any kind of athletic victory.

Sure, it was slow-pitch softball, and all I did was hit a single before the guy batting right after me hit a home run, and my two errors in right field were the main reasons why the team blew our large lead in the first place, but all of that is unimportant. We won the game, and it’s my story, so I’ll tell it however I want.

This was a very special occasion for me. See, I have never been much of an athlete. I was a benchwarmer in Little League and the last one picked in every gym class I’ve ever attended. I did do some damage as the chubby kid on the Jewish Community Center Junior Wrestling Team until they decided to put me against older kids my own size, a move that knocked me into an early retirement. Other than that, playing sports has never proved to be a major calling in my life.

But this legendary achievement has made me wonder — what if I’ve had “it” all along? What if I gave up on sports too early in life? Was I too quick to swear off my chances of being a professional athlete? I mean, is there really that much of a difference between me and guys like LeBron James or Reggie Bush? Maybe with a little more patience I could have been wearing Olympic medals, winning NCAA tournaments and, most importantly, watching myself dunk on SportsCenter. That would be awesome.

Then, after taking some ibuprofen, I started thinking even harder. What if I had never given up on anything as a kid? I could have become an Eagle Scout with more merit patches than space on my uniform. I could have been the best guitarist since Jimi Hendrix, playing my own original songs in front of a sold-out Gillette Stadium. I could have flown to Mars in my homemade rocket ship. I could have been the hot dog eating champion and embarrassed all my opponents down at Coney Island. I could have actually learned how to ride a bike.

At this point in my life, I’ll never know whether or not I could have been the next great athlete. It’s too late to start training now. I already realize that exercise stinks and that greasy food tastes really, really good. The only way this dream was ever going to come true was if I had pushed through all the adversity and never quit playing sports. Instead, I was easily discouraged and now get winded walking upstairs to the kitchen.

What if other people quit their specialties before anything had panned out? What if Bill Gates didn’t really see much of a future in selling computers? Or, Michelangelo could have given up on art and become a house painter. Paul McCartney could have decided to pursue a career in jingle-writing. Martin Luther King Jr. could have become an insurance salesman, after deciding that civil rights “just weren’t his thing.”

It’s really easy to quit on your goals. It’s also pretty simple to start up new ones, especially when, in the back of your head, you know that they are only going to last a few months. The hard part is to stick with something, even through the tough times, like when you keep falling off the bike, or when the coach refuses to put you in the game. By the way, it’s even tougher when the coach is your dad.

My advice is to try to stay with your activities, especially the ones you like. You never know — you may be the next Morgan Freeman, Ben Roethlisberger or Eminem. Sure, it’s just as likely that you’ll be more like Rob Schneider, Ryan Leaf or Vanilla Ice, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.

So, from now on, I’m quitting quitting. Follow me and stop giving up on doing the things you love to do — unless you love to do bad things, like jumping off of tall buildings or smoking. In that case, quit right away.