I was in Austin this weekend for the Texas vs. Ohio State game, surrounded by a big group of Longhorn fans, and I witnessed something I don’t think I’ll forget anytime soon.

A comeback.

Not just any comeback. Texas was down 23-3 heading into the fourth quarter against the No. 1 team in the country. They had been dominated for most of the game, and honestly, it felt over. Then, somehow, Texas scored three touchdowns in the fourth quarter and won 24-23, with the winning touchdown coming with just 25 seconds left.

And I’ll admit it.

I had given up.

There were a few people around us who were still saying, “We can do this!” But most of us had mentally moved on. We were already talking about what went wrong, how disappointing it was and what we could learn from the loss.

Including me.

But the players hadn’t given up.

They were still playing.

Still running.

Still blocking.

Still throwing.

Still believing.

And suddenly, there was a touchdown.

Then another.

And then another.

The energy in that stadium changed completely.

It made me think about how often we do the exact opposite in our own lives.

How many times have I decided something wasn’t going to work out before I actually knew that?

How many times have I gone straight to the worst-case scenario?

How many times have I mentally accepted an ending when there was still a possibility of a different outcome?

We do this because our brains like certainty. We’d rather decide it’s over than sit in the uncomfortable space of I don’t know yet.

But what if “I don’t know yet” is actually where possibility lives?

Watching Texas reminded me that we don’t always get to know how the story ends while we’re still in the middle of it.

Arch Manning had a rough start. Texas had mistakes. They had every reason to feel defeated. And yet they kept going. Manning found his rhythm when it mattered most, and the entire team seemed to believe that one play could lead to another.

That’s resilience.

Not pretending things are going well when they’re not.

Not denying the scoreboard.

Not ignoring reality.

Resilience is seeing the scoreboard, knowing you’re down 20 points, and deciding you’re still going to play the next play.

I think there’s a lesson in that for all of us.

Maybe we don’t need to know that everything is going to work out.

Maybe we just need to stop deciding that it won’t.

Maybe instead of jumping to “This isn’t going to work,” we can ask, “What if it does?”

What if the conversation goes better than you expect?

What if the opportunity comes?

What if the relationship can be repaired?

What if the thing you’re worried about has a solution you haven’t seen yet?

What if there are still touchdowns to be scored?

Because life, like football, doesn’t always follow the script we write for it.

Sometimes you’re convinced it’s over…

and then everything changes in the fourth quarter.

So I’m taking this one with me:

Don’t leave the game before the clock runs out.

Keep showing up.

Keep taking the next step.

Keep believing there is another play.

Because it’s not over until it’s over.

And sometimes, the most incredible part of the story is what happens after you thought the story was already finished.

Hook Em!

XX,

MG