If I had a million dollars, I would’ve produced a TV show called Do Over. The whole idea would be simple: sit down with people and ask them about the one moment in their life they’d love to go back and experience again—not to fix it, not to guarantee a better outcome, but just to step back into it one more time. A true do over.
The show would start by interviewing the person about why that moment mattered so much. Then we’d follow them as they prepared for it—getting in shape, relearning old skills, losing weight, getting a makeover…whatever it took to authentically place them back in that moment. After that, the producers would recreate the situation so they could actually live it again. Cameras rolling, we’d all watch it unfold—however it unfolded. And when it was over, we’d sit with them again and hear what changed, what surprised them, what stung, and what healed. They’d get to see the moment through a new lens, with the wisdom they’ve gained over time.
I think that would be a great show to watch.
So what would my do over be?
No question—I’d play one more quarter of high school football for my hometown Radford Bobcats.
Back then, I was #5, the quarterback. In a small town, that wasn’t just a position; it was an identity. I worked hard, but the truth is, I was average at best. I didn’t have the size, the speed, or the smarts. My passes weren’t all that accurate, and I wasn’t all that strong. When I look back on those games—now more than 50 years ago—I’m met with a familiar feeling of regret. I regret not knowing then what I know now. I regret not throwing catchable balls instead of trying to knock my receivers down with them. I regret not relaxing, not enjoying the game, not appreciating the guys around me. For decades, my memories were nothing but fumbles under center and incomplete passes.
Those were my memories…until recently.
I stumbled across a YouTube channel that had many of my old games from 1974, 1975, and 1976. I’ve spent hours watching them—good games and not‑so‑good ones. But the thing I’ve enjoyed most is seeing that young version of me play a whole lot better than I remembered. I did complete passes. I didn’t fumble as much as I thought. Sure, I drifted too deep in the backfield on sweep plays (just like Coach Lyndon always told me not to), but overall…I was better than the story I’d been telling myself for 50 years.
In a way, I got a small do over—at least in my own mind.
And it makes me wonder: what else in my life would look different if I could see it again? Old relationships I’ve beaten myself up over—would they look the same? Moments I’ve replayed through the years—would they feel different now? And the filters I’ve adopted, the ones I use to interpret the world based on how I think something went—how accurate are they, really?
I hope someone out there reads this someday and has the resources to create a show like Do Over. I think it could do the world a lot of good. It might teach us that our memories aren’t always the truth, and that we always have the chance to revisit moments with more grace, more understanding, and more kindness toward ourselves.
And if that day ever comes—if it’s not too late—sign me up as contestant number one.
I’d love one more quarter.
