Fuel for the Flame: Telling the Stories of Courageous Athletes
- Kendall Jason

- Jan 20
- 4 min read
by JasonKendall of kendallprojects Media & Design
From Player to Storyteller

I’ve spent my life chasing stories. Not the stories that make headlines. Not the ones that everyone claps for. I chase the stories that most people overlook, the ones that quietly shape character, define resilience, and reveal courage in its purest form. And the lens through which I see those stories is rooted in my own experience—a former player who never won a championship, never earned the accolades, never felt like part of a “winning” team. I carry those moments with me every day, and I use them as fuel for everything I create, whether in the studio as an artist or on the field as a filmmaker.
When I was a young athlete, I didn’t realize it then, but my failures became my foundation. The losses, the near misses, the times when effort seemed to disappear into a void of disappointment—they taught me lessons no trophy ever could. They taught me about perseverance. About the quiet dignity in showing up. About the drive to do better next time. Those experiences didn’t just shape the player I was; they shaped the storyteller I’ve become.
I bring that perspective to every project at kendallprojects. I see the boys I film through the same lens I saw myself: eager, determined, sometimes frustrated, sometimes underestimated, always full of potential. I approach every frame as if I am stepping into the cleats of that young man again, feeling the weight of the pads, the adrenaline of the game, the stakes of a moment that feels monumental even if it’s just a Friday night in a small town. And I tell those stories not just to show athletic skill, but to illuminate character, resilience, and growth.

Craft, Creativity, and Commitment
Becoming a storyteller has been a journey as much about self-discovery as it has been about technique. I began as a studio artist, learning to create worlds, to manipulate light, shadow, and form, to find meaning in what others might dismiss as mundane. That work taught me patience, observation, and intentionality—skills I carry now into filmmaking. Every camera angle, every cut, every subtle beat in an interview is informed by decades of studying how art moves the human heart. But more importantly, it is informed by my lived experience as someone who once fell short yet refused to give up. That refusal is the heart of what we do at kendallprojects.
When I step onto a practice field or into a locker room with a camera, I am acutely aware of the responsibility that comes with the work. These aren’t just games. These aren’t just plays on tape. These are lives in motion. Every boy, every coach, every parent, every program has a story worth preserving. My job is to honor it with the same intensity I would want for my own story—because I understand what it means to be the underdog, to fight for recognition, to feel invisible even while giving everything you have.
What drives me every day is the pursuit of growth, both as a creator and as a human being. I push myself to improve—not just for accolades or recognition—but because the boys and teams I film deserve my best. If I am going to preserve their legacy, I must approach each project as though it is a masterpiece in progress. That means mastering tools, exploring new techniques, experimenting with lighting, stabilizers, sound, and editing. It means constantly pushing myself to make every frame cinematic, every narrative intentional, every interview intimate and revealing.

Legacy in Motion
I’ve learned to embrace limitations as opportunities. We don’t always have the luxury of top-tier equipment, massive crews, or corporate backing. And in truth, I wouldn’t trade that independence for anything. Working with limited resources has forced me to innovate, to think creatively, to find beauty in constraint. Every problem becomes a puzzle, every challenge a chance to get better. And every small victory—a perfect shot in fading light, a candid expression captured in silence, an athlete opening up about his journey—is a reminder of why I do this work.
At the heart of every story I tell is a question I’ve carried since my playing days: What happens when a boy’s effort is met with failure? What does courage look like when victory is not guaranteed? What does character become when no one is watching? These questions are universal, but they are also deeply personal. They were my questions. They are the questions I try to answer through my films.

Ultimately, this is why I do what I do. I tell stories because I understand what it means to be underestimated, to fight for recognition, and to create impact with limited resources. I tell stories because I have carried the lessons of my past—the setbacks, the disappointments, and the quiet moments of perseverance—into my work. And I tell stories because I believe in legacy: the legacy I am building for myself, and the legacy I am helping to create for the boys, teams, and communities who trust me with their stories.
Through kendallprojects, I have the privilege of witnessing courage in motion, of transforming ordinary moments into cinematic narratives, and of preserving the heart of programs for generations to come. It is a calling, a responsibility, and a joy that I approach with everything I have, every day. And it is my hope that through these films, the spirit of those who gave their all—on the field, in the locker room, and in life—will live on, inspire others, and remind everyone watching that courage, determination, and authenticity are the greatest victories of all.







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