https://www.linkedin.com/today/post...eer-curveballs-no-longer-a-soldier?_mSplash=1
The trick is to pick up the spin. Some pitchers vary their delivery slightly, unintentionally signaling a curve. The 5-ounce leather covered baseball is traveling at 90 mph, but with experience, you stay in the batter’s box, confident you can predict the trajectory, and either hit or dodge the pitch.
But no matter how good you think you are – you often fail. Sometimes you swing and miss; sometimes the ball hits you in the head. Either way, it hurts.
In June 2010, after more than 38 years in uniform, in the midst of commanding a 46-nation coalition in a complex war in Afghanistan, my world changed suddenly – and profoundly. An article in Rolling Stone magazine depicting me, and people I admired, in a manner that felt as unfamiliar as it was unfair, ignited a firestorm.
I boarded a flight immediately, returning from Afghanistan to Washington, D.C. to address the issue with our Nation’s leadership. Less than 24 hours later I walked out of the Oval Office and in an instant, a profession that had been my life’s passion and focus came to an end. I would not return to Afghanistan; the mission would continue without me. I no longer commanded the forces I loved.
Even seemingly mundane details like where we lived and what I was called had shifted suddenly. The uniform I’d first donned as a 17-year old plebe at West Point, the uniform of my father, grandfather, and brothers, was no longer mine to wear.