Triple OT

I didn't know what to write about until my grandmother and I talked earlier tonight. In my family she's probably the biggest basketball fan of us all and she said, "Can you believe this game?" I played it off like I knew what she was talking about. I turn on game 6 of Boston @ Chicago. The score was 118-118 going into the 3rd overtime. Third overtime. How does a game end up tied at the end of three definitive periods of basketball? Everybody is exhausted. People are pushin' and shovin' practically in fisticuffs. Bloody noses, tweaked ankles, missin' teeth. It's like a hockey game played on wood. Fans are screamin' and yellin' though they'll never know the rigor of the physical demands of playoff basketball in the NBA.

At one point Chicago had 17 turnovers. Boston probably had a few less but then Paul Pierce and a couple of other key Celtics fouled out. Chicago has rookie of the year Derek Rose and second year energizer bunny Joakim Noah along with Ben Gordon and Kirk Hinrich. See, some chide youthful exuberance as well meaning but ultimately too inexperienced for any real success. But the Bulls didn't get the memo. Say what you will about Boston being short-handed due to injuries. No pardons will be given in hindsight if the Bulls find away to dethrone the champs.

Is it possible that young people sometimes get judged unfairly? People seem to expect failure and immaturity from young people instead of growth and tenacity. It's mystifying. Whether it's NBA playoff basketball or American Literature class on a smoggy afternoon, maybe it's time to expect more than mediocrity from the youngsters. Face it, the sooner young people find the wherewithal to overcome obstacles, the sooner they stop believeing that their youth is an excuse to fail. As I read one blog today, the grownups said they were generally impressed with teens. They said they're not so bad but the tenor of the blog's posted comments suggested that young people are kind of tolerated, not challenged but coddled and examined like some lab experiment. With the resources available to today's young people, they could run a country. Don't believe me? Post a comment.

My summer at camp...Volume 1

Astro camp, sea camp, idol camp, tech camp, basketball camp. You ever been? What's the craziest camp you've ever attended because I never went to one during the euphoric days of summer. Here in Cali it's felt like summer on and off for two months but the real, bonafide break to end all breaks begins in early June for most schools. Then the dilemma. What do working parents do with their kids with the babysitter (a.k.a. school) out of commission. Sure there's summer school for the districts still offering it amidst an epic budgetary freeze. But seriously, what's a parent to do given the perils of idleness? Hey, I found out there's even a Secret Agent camp. That's kind of oxymoronic that it's advertised.

Anyhow, if I kick to you straight, I can say that I never appreciated the power of a good camp experience until I worked one myself. The first basketball camp I ever worked was summer of 1996 while still playing basketball for Chapman University. It was a day camp and I had a co-ed squad with pre-teen superstars. They showed up early and worked hard all day when they weren't doing cartwheels or climbing something/someone. We won the championship, my leading rebounder was a 9-year old girl who probably never played basketball again and the lone five-year-old on the team is probably graduating this year to go play on scholarship at a PAC-10 University. He was that good. I remember asking my leading rebounder if she told her mom about her award and she melodiously exclaimed, "She was beaming at the news." Athletes don't talk like that. Right, but these were kids having fun at camp.

Time went on and eight years later I worked NBC basketball camp at Whitworth University in Spokane, Washington. Camp on roids for sure. Kids arrive on a Sunday and nobody sits down for five days. Ball Handling then breakfast then skill work then lunch then games, dinner, skits, games and push-ups. After day one I was thinking camp did well to miss me but then I witnessed something bizarre - that if kids live in community with others they grow. Sleeping, eating, suffering together all foster invaluable traits such as:

• Compassion
• Competitiveness
• Identity within the Team
• The ability to motivate others
• The ability to be coachable
• Humility

The more I work with summer campers the more I'm convinced that it's not a good idea. IT'S A NECESSARY IDEA. I keep the pictures, the stories, the dinner time discussions, the stinch of "boy + chlorine" all as signs that transformation is going on at thousands of camps nationwide every summer. Usually money is the only limitation but in light of the incalculable benefit, should it be?

p.s. - Lookin' for a camp in So. Cal? visit nbccamps.com and look for Hope International University's site in Fullerton.

Are you Better than the starter?

Admit it, you played on a team once where you thought the starting guy at your position sucked. Or at least you thought you were better. I'm convinced that most of the world's athletes are the average people hoping to sniff a few minutes of playing time. Some get a whiff while others...well...what's the opposite of a whiff? Team Manager maybe? Here's a 6ixth Man lesson: If you're a bench rider, YOU MUST LEARN THE GAME BETTER THAN THE GUYS ON THE FLOOR.

Are you good at remembering names? Maybe you are an auditory learner. Can you watch someone do something once and then replicate it? Maybe you are a visual learner. Do you need to physically do something before you feel confident with the activity? Maybe your learning style is what is known as bodily-kinesthetic. Knowing how you prefer to learn is important. What is more important is that you engage your learning style once you know what it is.

I can't speak for sports other than basketball but in the game of hoop, you are probably not playing in practice scrimmages if you're getting DNPs (did not play) next to your name in the paper. This was the case for me during a stretch of my career. Our practice uniforms were black and white. Starters wore black and the second team was in white jerseys. I was in and out of the white group and did not elevate to black status until my senior year. So, being a bodily-kinesthetic learner, I had difficulty mastering concepts because I could only hear them taught and/or see them demonstrated. I am a learner who needs to “do it” first. The result was that when it was my turn to do a drill or run a play I made mistakes. It looked like I was not paying attention and coach usually commented on these things. Comment is a euphemism for… “He blew up at us for not paying attention.” At such a rate I could never become a better player so I did what any struggling student does. I got a tutor.

We had ex-players(alumni) who assisted my head coach and I had them literally walk me through plays in slow motion from as many positions as I could conceivably find myself in a game. You know what happens when you pursue a tutor? The tutor teaches and tells the coach how much you want to learn. Not only do you master offensive and defensive schemes but you gain the respect of the head coach. Whether he plays you in the next game or not, your stock with coach goes up. And I realized I valued the respect of my coach more than minutes on the floor though the two eventually will intersect. Your tutor needs three things:

• The respect of your coaching staff
• Knowledge of the sport
• The ability to teach what they know (Some of the best players are the worst teachers)

When you're done reading this and posting a comment, make a list of people who could tutor you into the rotation on your team.

Where do babies come from?

That's the question that every parent can't wait to answer? (sarcasm intended) We're a curious bunch aren't we? We being humans of course and from a young age no doubt. Someone once said something to the effect that "the seeds of doubt fuel discovery". Point taken. Advantage to whichever sage coined that one. So here's the rub. Displays of ethical conduct in sport are heralded, unfortunately and usually because it appears sporadically. I saw a youtube video about a boy who lost his mom to cervical cancer during his basketball season. He was a high schooler and I believe that the day of his mom's death he had a game. At first he hadn't planned to play which would be expected but then he decided otherwise, showed up in the second quarter and played. Consistent with the rules, his team was assessed a technical foul because his name wasn't on the official roster at the start of the game. The opposing team was awarded two technical foul shots which they missed on purpose out of respect or the latecomer and his recently deceased mother.

Obviously such a display of courage and compassion bears mentioning. I'm not sure how most teams woul have handled the free throws. But my question is two-part. Where does a team get such compassion? Where do any of us get it for that matter? I know tons of agnostics who don't buy that we get our motivations from diametrical spiritual influences - God or the Devil. But is that too far fetched - the classicly polarized enemies of supernatural lore? (no sarcasm intended) See, there are hints of compassion, sportmanship, courage and selflessness exuded in sports from the lowest levels to the upper echelon of fortune famous athletes. But even the hints lend themselves to the assumption that "something" is warring within competitors against avarice and compulsive demagoguery. Enter my question again, "Where does the sense to act ethically originate?" Why do we avoid this conversation and pretend we're having it when we say that players need to act more civilized?

How about we cut to the ground of meaning, the core of the good. Whatever produces the good in athletes should be explored shouldn't it? I mean if we go after the goose and nurture it doesn't the fable hold that more of the desired eggs are sure to follow? I think most of us would rather answer the baby question :-).

That's Loser Talk

How many ballplayers have you known who “never were”? In other words, you never saw someone with more hops, more handles, a “wetter” jump shot than ____________________. But _____________ never played one second in a real game with you because he quit too soon. He/She did not like how little he/she was playing - wanted 35 minutes a game instead of 20. He/She did not expect to be disciplined for violating team rules. So he/she gets to tell tall tales to his/her grandchildren of how some players are just too dominant to grace a high school team with their expertise. Pardon the brief digression. Why do you play? Is it because of who is watching you or because your dad expects big minutes? It did not take long for me to realize in high school and on my college team that I played for reasons other than the immediate gratification of minutes, points, rebounds etc.

In the summers I sought out college leagues to sharpen skills against better competition and found my way onto teams with Division I caliber players. But the summer training seemed futile as I returned to my school and sat the bench most of my sophomore and junior seasons. I picked up garbage time minutes but never played in the crucial moments. I briefly entertained transferring schools after my sophomore year. There was at least one local coach of a private school near my home in the San Gabriel Valley who was interested in meeting with me to discuss how I could help his program. I cancelled the meeting and decided to stay put despite a chance to play on scholarship.

An epiphany changed my perspective. I realized that instead of enjoying basketball because it was fun and challenging I played it to prove my worth to others. Has anyone ever told you that you have “drama” or “baggage”? Well I did and my drama was not even related to basketball. I put an immense amount of pressure on myself to be good because I wanted recognition. Coaches, family and teammates were why I played. But if I played to be heralded by onlookers, why was I suiting up for practice, giving up countless hours only to be disappointed come game time. Answer: I started a slow process toward understanding that I play because I enjoy how the sport makes me feel. I enjoyed being on a team, belonging to something. Some are the “Loner” types that don’t need to be around people or feel like they are a part of something bigger than themselves. That is not me. I realized that I do love team-oriented things. I also began to understand that only a select group of people ever even play college sports. The game became more of a gift to me, something I prized in and of itself.

People Watch the Bench Warmers Too!

Early during my senior season of my college playing days I would look over little index cards before each game to calm the nerves. In some cases I was anxious about facing the opponent. In others I was not sure how much coach was planning to play me that game. The index cards had scriptures on them and all 52 principles of Championship Living that appeared in A.C. Green’s book titled Victory. The scriptures and principles on these cards were purely personal, helping me deal with my anger and depression. It was so much of a routine that I no longer realized I was doing anything out of the ordinary. I just carried the cards in my pocket with a nasty, old rubber band double-wrapped around them.
How did I know I was being watched while I read these cards? One-by-one various teammates began to ask me what was on these cards. They wanted to take a look so I would hand a few over and at that point I realized what I did mattered. We did not discuss the material and I did not become a street preacher. But I could feel some respect generated as the guys playing more minutes than me understood a little bit better what I was going through. As a senior I still wanted to play just as bad as when I was an angry freshman beating up the bleachers with my fists. The experience with my teammates and the index cards helped me to see that others observe the example rather than the words of leadership.

THE QUESTION BOX

I put a question box on one of my classroom walls because students won't ask me questions with their mouths. I thought that the box would be a less intimidating way for people to unconfuse themselves. So far I'm wrong. Are teens intimidated in class and in athletics? Is that why they don't ask questions? Are they afraid of coaches and teachers or do they just think the coaches and teachers are imbeciles? I met a kid in the gym the other day with a "stupid stroke" (nice jumpshot). What a kid. He kept asking me questions the whole game. How do I guard one-on-one and not get beaten, how do I shoot the jumper from a full-speed dribble and on and on. Everyone should be so inquisitive. Maybe he's one of the few who actually want to improve in this world.