I saw this quote the other day and thought it needed a little explanation to fully appreciate its meaning:

 

“Greatness never feels like greatness while it's under construction. It feels like

you are making mistakes and failing. That you get resistance at every turn.”

 

Think of a diamond. A diamond is composed of the single element, carbon. But for the diamond to form, carbon must be put under extreme pressure and temperature deep within the Earth's mantle. So, pressure, or resistance, creates a diamond. Think of a plane. To take off, the plane has to speed forward. But as the plane's speed increases, the air resistance increases. Until suddenly, the plane lifts into the air. It needed the increased air resistance to achieve the goal. The same principle applies to anyone trying to achieve greatness in any area of life, whether it's becoming an elite baseball player, mastering a musical instrument, or excelling in academics. The journey toward excellence is paved with moments that don't feel excellent at all. Instead, they feel frustrating, discouraging, and sometimes impossible. This is because true greatness isn't built during the moments of easy success, but rather during the countless hours of struggle, failure, and pushing through resistance.

 

Consider a young baseball player who dreams of making it to the major leagues. When he first steps onto a Little League field, everything feels awkward and difficult. The bat feels too heavy in his hands, the ball moves too fast, and he strikes out more often than he gets a hit. His first attempts at fielding ground balls result in the ball rolling between his legs or bouncing off his glove. Each practice feels like a series of small failures, and every game highlights how much he still needs to learn. This doesn't feel like the beginning of greatness – it feels like proof that maybe he's not cut out for baseball at all. But what this young player doesn't realize is that each strikeout is teaching his brain to better track the ball's movement. Every missed catch is training his reflexes to react faster. Each frustrating practice is building memory that will eventually make difficult plays look effortless. The resistance he feels,  the weight of the bat, the speed of the pitch, the pressure of competition, isn't working against him. It's actually the very force that's creating his future skills.

 

As he continues playing through middle school and high school, the resistance doesn't disappear; it just changes form. Now the pitchers throw harder and with more movement. The competition gets fiercer as only the best players make the team. The practices become more demanding, requiring him to show up before school for batting practice and stay late for conditioning. Coaches expect more from him, and the margin for error gets smaller. Some of his friends quit because the sport is no longer fun and easy like it was when they were eight years old. This is where many potential champions get weeded out. They mistake the increased difficulty for a sign that they've reached their limit or that they're not talented enough to continue. They don't understand that this resistance is actually the pressure needed to transform them from good players into great ones. Just like carbon needs extreme pressure to become a diamond, athletes need the increasing demands of higher-level competition to develop the mental toughness, physical skills, and strategic thinking that separate elite performers from average ones.

 

The player who perseveres through this stage discovers something remarkable. Those impossible fastballs that used to blow by him start looking slower. The complex defensive plays that once seemed overwhelming become routine. The mental pressure that used to cause him to freeze up in clutch situations begins to sharpen his focus instead. He's not just getting better at baseball. He's developing the kind of resilience and determination that will serve him in every area of life.

 

But even at this level, greatness still doesn't feel like greatness. Now he's facing college scouts, trying to earn a scholarship to continue playing at the next level. The competition is more intense than ever. Every at-bat feels crucial, every error feels magnified, and the pressure to perform consistently is enormous. He might go through slumps where nothing seems to work, where his timing is off, and where he questions whether all the sacrifice has been worth it. During these difficult periods, it's tempting to think that something has gone wrong, that he's moving backward instead of forward. But these struggles are actually evidence that he's continuing to grow. Just like a plane needs increasing air resistance to generate enough lift for takeoff, athletes need escalating challenges to develop the capabilities required for elite performance. The slumps, the failures, and the moments of doubt aren't obstacles to greatness. They're the raw materials from which greatness is built.

Professional baseball players understand this principle intimately. Even the greatest hitters in the game strikeout, make bad throws, boot routine ground balls, etc. But what makes them different is that they understand that failure isn’t the opposite of success, it’s the pathway to success.

 

Modern players like Mike Trout or Mookie Betts didn't become superstars by avoiding difficult situations. They became great by consistently putting themselves in challenging circumstances where failure was a real possibility. They chose to face the best pitchers, compete in the biggest games, and take on leadership roles even when it meant more pressure and responsibility. Each level of increased resistance developed new aspects of their game and character.

 

Perhaps no modern player exemplifies this principle better than Jose Altuve. When Altuve first tried out for professional baseball, he didn't even get drafted. He walked on to a Houston Astros tryout, but he didn't even get a chance to try out that day. The staff looked at him and immediately dismissed him. He didn't have the physique they thought an MLB player should have. At 5 feet 6 inches and 160 pounds, he was considered too small to compete at the professional level. So they told him to leave. But he came back the next day. This time they said "sure" and gave him a chance. And he showed them what determination looks like. He received a contract for $15,000, which was far below what most prospects receive.

 

But Altuve's journey was just beginning. He spent five full seasons in the minor leagues, working his way through rookie ball, Low-A, High-A, and Double-A, eventually skipping Triple-A before being called up to the major leagues by the Houston Astros. That's resistance in its purest form. For five years, he faced people who doubted his size, his ability, and his potential. Every level presented new challenges and new voices telling him he didn't belong. But each season of struggle was forging him into something greater than anyone initially imagined.

 

During those minor league years, Altuve wasn't just learning to hit better pitching or field more difficult plays. He was developing the mental fortitude that would eventually make him one of the most clutch performers in baseball. The resistance he faced because of his size taught him to outwork everyone else. The skepticism he encountered motivated him to prove doubters wrong through performance rather than physical presence. The long journey through the minor leagues built the patience and persistence that would serve him when he faced adversity in the major leagues.

 

The construction of greatness follows this same pattern in every field. A pianist doesn't become a virtuoso by playing simple songs perfectly. They develop mastery by attempting pieces that are just beyond their current ability, struggling through difficult passages, and making countless mistakes in practice. The resistance they feel when their fingers can't move fast enough or when complex rhythms seem impossible isn't a sign they should quit. It's the friction that's building their skill. Similarly, a student who wants to excel academically doesn't achieve greatness by taking easy classes and getting perfect grades on simple assignments. Real academic growth happens when they challenge themselves with advanced courses, wrestle with complex concepts that don't make sense at first, and push through the frustration of not understanding something immediately. The mental strain of grappling with difficult material is what builds the intellectual muscle needed for higher-level thinking.

 

The key insight is learning to recognize resistance as a sign of progress rather than a sign of failure. When a baseball player finds batting practice more challenging than it used to be, it might mean the coach is throwing harder pitches to prepare him for better competition. When fielding drills feel more demanding, it could be because he's working on more advanced techniques. The increased difficulty isn't evidence that he's getting worse, it's evidence that he's being prepared for something greater. This reframing of resistance is crucial because it changes how we respond to challenges. Instead of seeing obstacles as reasons to quit or signs that we're not talented enough, we can view them as necessary components of the growth process. A diamond doesn't complain about the pressure deep in the earth's mantle, it's transformed by it. A plane doesn't try to avoid air resistance; it uses that resistance to achieve flight.

 

The emotional experience of building greatness is often the opposite of what we expect. Instead of feeling confident and successful, we often feel uncertain and inadequate. Instead of feeling like we're naturally gifted, we feel like we're constantly struggling to keep up. This isn't a bug in the system, it's a feature. These feelings are indicators that we're pushing beyond our comfort zone and into the territory where real growth happens. Understanding this principle can provide tremendous encouragement during difficult periods. When a baseball player is in a hitting slump, instead of panicking or losing confidence, he can recognize that this challenge is developing his mental toughness and problem-solving abilities. When practice feels harder than ever, instead of dreading it, he can appreciate that he's being forged in the furnace of high expectations.

 

The most successful people in any field learn to embrace resistance rather than avoid it. They seek out challenges that push their limits because they understand that comfort is the enemy of growth. They know that the path to greatness isn't a smooth, easy road but rather a steep, rocky climb that builds strength with every step. In baseball, this might mean choosing to play in a more competitive league even if it means struggling initially. It might mean asking the coach for extra batting practice even when regular practice is already exhausting. It might mean volunteering to pitch in high-pressure situations even when there's a risk of failing in front of everyone.

 

The construction of greatness is ultimately about developing the ability to perform under pressure, to persist through setbacks, and to maintain excellence even when conditions are challenging. These qualities can't be developed in easy circumstances.  They require the resistance that comes from attempting something difficult and meaningful. Just as carbon becomes a diamond only under extreme pressure, and planes achieve flight only by pushing through air resistance, human potential is realized only when we're willing to embrace the challenges that feel overwhelming in the moment but forge us into something stronger, more capable, and more resilient than we ever imagined possible.

 

Greatness isn't a destination we arrive at. It's what we become through the process of refusing to quit when everything feels difficult.