Don’t ask me to surrender–submission is not in my genes :)
I’ve "lost" my share of shows (yes, I know, just getting on stage makes us all winners, but isn’t coming home with a trophy just soooo nice???), but have never conceded to defeat. I have always looked to outcome as a learning experience to better myself as a competitor as well as a person. I have never been one to quit because I have been kicked in the gut.
I’ve recently found more inspiration in the Cossacks. Growing up as an ignorant American, I’ve recently started getting in touch with my Russian roots.
There is a large painting that has always been in my grandma’s house that has always intrigued me. It’s a painting of a bunch of drunk Russian men sitting at a table, and looks like they are having a lot of fun.
I found out that the painting is a copy that my dad did (he’s a pretty good artist) of a painting titled, “Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks to Sultan Mehmed IV of the Ottoman Empire” by the Russian artist Ilya Repin. The original is currently exhibited in the State Russian Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia. My uncle also had a copy of the letters (in Russian) framed next to it. Of course, I don’t read Russian so I never knew what it said. The letter was a response written by the Cossacks to the Turkish Sultan.
Basically the Sultan wanted the Cossacks to submit to the Turks:
As the Sultan; son of Muhammad; brother of the Sun and Moon; grandson and viceroy of God; ruler of the kingdoms of Macedonia, Babylon, Jerusalem, Upper and Lower Egypt; emperor of emperors; sovereign of sovereigns; extraordinary knight, never defeated; steadfast guardian of the tomb of Jesus Christ; trustee chosen by God himself; the hope and comfort of Muslims; confounder and great defender of Christians—I command you, the Zaporozhian Cossacks, to submit to me voluntarily and without any resistance, and to desist from troubling me with your attacks.—Turkish Sultan Mehmed IV
Basically, the Cossacks told the Turks to go shove it:
Zaporozhian Cossacks to the Turkish Sultan!
O sultan, turkish devil and damned devil’s kith and kin, secretary to Lucifer himself. What the devil kind of knight are you, that can’t slay a hedgehog with his naked arse? The devil sh–s, and your army eats. You will not, you son of a b***h, make subjects of Christian sons; we’ve no fear of your army, by land and by sea we will battle with thee, f–k your mother.
You Babylonian scullion, Macedonian wheelwright, brewer of Jerusalem, goat-f–er of Alexandria, swineherd of Greater and Lesser Egypt, Armenian pig, Podolian thief, catamite of Tartary, hangman of Kamyanets, and fool of all the world and underworld, an idiot before God, grandson of the Serpent, and the crick in our dick. Pig’s snout, mare’s arse, slaughterhouse cur, unchristened brow, screw your own mother!
So the Zaporozhians declare, you lowlife. You won’t even be herding Christian pigs. Now we’ll conclude, for we don’t know the date and don’t own a calendar; the moon’s in the sky, the year with the Lord, the day’s the same over here as it is over there; for this kiss our arse! - Koshovyi Otaman Ivan Sirko, with the whole Zaporozhian Host
So don’t ever let anyone tell you what to do! 
