My Friend, the Underdog.

I have a friend who is probably one of the rudest people I know. It is not a rude that is awkward or uncomfortable to be around but one that is completely open and honest with no punches pulled. What he says everyone else is thinking and knows to be true but they hold back the words because they wish not to offend anyone and risk their own likability. My friend, unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, does not care what people think or say about him so he says what he wants. What puzzles me about my friend is how people are attracted to him despite is strong flaw. His open floodgate of a mouth does not keep him from being a popular guy among any group of people. A normal person would believe that any other that has a “no punches pulled” vocabulary would be void of any friends, but not this guy.

I began to think deeper on the situation and finally came to a conclusion of why even I cannot pull myself from liking my unfiltered friend. There was a time in his young life where he was not the most popular, liked or fairly treated person. He had a difficult journey in his youth, having more than his fair share of family tragedies and unnecessary calamities. Yet somehow, some way, he survived and became a stronger person because of it. He adapted to a person who has a heart strong enough to endure the wiles of this life yet soft enough to come to the aid of people who are going through what he went through. He is a champion of sorts; one that started off as an underdog. We as people love Cinderella stories were the underdog thrives and comes to the top of the world after hard work and persistence.

My friend, the underdog, has been beat down, bruised, battered and shattered in too many ways. His trip to hell and back was not a choice of his, but simply in the cards that were dealt to him by life. Despite all the struggle, he continued pursuing his dream and finally reached the place where the grass on his side is greener. He can stand now, having been there and done that without complaining or hating what he went through, but with knowledge that he can use to be in somebody’s corner and help them where they fill like they have been abandon. No one knows more than an underdog, how hard the trials are, but no one knows victory more than the same underdog who triumphs. When I look at my friend, I don’t see the rude and sometimes abrasive nature of him, but I see a man who didn’t let himself be caught up in self-pity or his circle of failures and has grown to become a reliable, caring person; a man who has been through the ringer and won.