Wisdom is the most UNDERRATED character trait. In my world, it's my "6IXTH MAN" and we all have opportunities, daily, to sub wisdom into our lives in place of ignorance. If knowing what to do is half the battle, the other half is letting what you know form WHO YOU ARE!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
6ixthman.com
Thank you to those of you who have been reading, leaving comments and provoking yourself toward deep reflection. Keep playin' your 6ixth Man by participating in blog posts on this blog or at 6ixthman.com.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
0 Wins 3 Losses at Spokane Hoopfest
I had been looking forward to my first time participating in Spokane's colossal annual event known as Hoopfest for about 3 months. 6700 players, $36 million in revenue for a 2-day 3-on-3 basketball tournament that shuts down the streets of downtown Spokane (a city in Eastern Washington). I was to play with 3 guys I'd never met, introduced to me by a friend who lives in Washington. But then I arrived, the competition ensued and my team lost. Our only win the weekend of June 27-28 was because a team forfeited. Facts can be misleading though. Each game we lost was by 3 points or less with the last one on Sunday being a narrow one-point defeat.
As I soaked in the experience and the thick culture on Saturday morning, I was enamored by the basketball enthusiasm but more so a sense of community. Ex-players, current players, wheelchair players, kid players, co-ed players, elderly players, etc. were all united in a common interest. Hoopfest is 20 years old but before 2004, I'd never heard of it. In the age of Wie and PS3 people still get outdoors in plus 90-degree heat and enjoy a game played on asphalt streets concave for drainage instead of flat for pull-up jumpers. Any number of variables makes the basketball aspect of this less than desirable for a gym wimp like myself. I hate playing outdoors. But I did it this time and can't wait for 2010. I strained my back the last game and played on Advil, something I almost never do.
I was sick to my stomach on the first day from losing. After all, I didn't fly standby just to lose in a 3-on-3 tourney. But therein lies the lesson and spirit of this blog. Did my team "Walking Tall" compete? CHECK. Did we pray that we'd be a witness of Christ's love and truth to other athletes? CHECK (Before every game). Did we blame the referees for our losses? CHECK, but only the first two. See, I discovered a couple of things that weekend. #1 The competitive juices still ebb profusely through my veins. #2 The embarrassment of losing was short lived because of the camaraderie of my team members who happen to share my faith.
Being flanked by real men who love to compete, hate losing but possess an allegiance to something bigger than basketball was enlivening. Sunday was so much different that the first part of Saturday when our hopes of winning the tournament faded and we were relegated to consolation bracket play. My team members and I played together, ate together, bunked at the same home. We absorbed, I felt, the essence of a "Hoop" "Fest". Basketball as in ...Basketball. Fest as in festival or celebration. It's as if the tournament helped me to honor the notion that my athleticism, fervor and endorphin rush from basketball is a gift. We celebrated the gift at Hoopfest and it was the anti-septic I needed in the face of 3 infectiously toxic close losses. THE LESSON: When the shots just don't fall and thousands are watching, be right there in the moment. It took a couple of losses but once I was in the moment, the festival became less "Me-Fest" and more "HoopFest".
Sunday, July 5, 2009
FANS Between a Rock and a Hard Place
You know what's hard? Time's up. It's hard to be stunned by the death of your hero and then find out he wasn't exactly hero material, I mean...that he had pronounced shortcomings. I'll preface by ackowledging the "Nobody's perfect" preamble without actually stating it. It goes without saying. But I remember being 16 and finding out that Magic Johnson had contracted the HIV virus through promiscuous escapades during the Showtime era of Lakerdom.
He was the basketball icon who, for me transcended limitations of poverty and circumstance. I wanted to be Magic but despite the tragedy that befell him on that day in November 1991, I couldn't help but ponder the means by which my hero had fallen from grace.
At any rate, here we are 18 years and one sport removed from the demise of my idol. Today we mourn the untimely death...homicide of Steve McNair. He was loved by so many, more than we Californians can even fathom because sports in Tennessee is larger than life and sports figures, I've been told, assume a much more signifcant persona than we're used to. But what's the appropriate line of conversation at this point? McNair was once 1 yard from taking the St. Louis Rams to overtime, he vanquished naysaying critics who said a D-1AA quarterback would never make a career in the NFL and he played through injuries most wouldn't tolerate at a desk job. But when he was found dead, he lay next to a woman who wasn't his wife and very likely his mistress. She was 16 years younger than him and McNair's wife Michelle was at home taking care of their four children when the news broke that the neighborhood gridiron legend had been found dead. So many questions come with stories like these and they fit like soaking wet puzzle pieces. Get it? They don't fit at all actually because real life seldom fits neatly with romanticized iconoclasm. We all have heroes. But once their humanity is revealed, then what?
He was the basketball icon who, for me transcended limitations of poverty and circumstance. I wanted to be Magic but despite the tragedy that befell him on that day in November 1991, I couldn't help but ponder the means by which my hero had fallen from grace.
At any rate, here we are 18 years and one sport removed from the demise of my idol. Today we mourn the untimely death...homicide of Steve McNair. He was loved by so many, more than we Californians can even fathom because sports in Tennessee is larger than life and sports figures, I've been told, assume a much more signifcant persona than we're used to. But what's the appropriate line of conversation at this point? McNair was once 1 yard from taking the St. Louis Rams to overtime, he vanquished naysaying critics who said a D-1AA quarterback would never make a career in the NFL and he played through injuries most wouldn't tolerate at a desk job. But when he was found dead, he lay next to a woman who wasn't his wife and very likely his mistress. She was 16 years younger than him and McNair's wife Michelle was at home taking care of their four children when the news broke that the neighborhood gridiron legend had been found dead. So many questions come with stories like these and they fit like soaking wet puzzle pieces. Get it? They don't fit at all actually because real life seldom fits neatly with romanticized iconoclasm. We all have heroes. But once their humanity is revealed, then what?
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Tyson Gay Didn't Play the Blame Game
http://www.strimoo.com/video/10553600/A-Shot-at-Glory-Track-Tyson-Gay-MySpaceVideos.html
Before Tyson Gay came in 5th at last year's Olympic 100M semi-finals in Beijing he prepared with gold medalist Jon Drummond. Gay was the most heralded sprinter and favorite going for USA's chances at a 100m gold medal until he was injured at the Olympic trials. If you viewed the video, you got a glimpse of the rigor of Gay's workout along with the expectations of family members close to him. What stands out, however, is not that he was favored to win and fell out of contention but rather how he prepared himself and didn't blame anyone or even an injury for the performance he would give in Beijing. Despite his own disappointment, Gay commented following Jamaican Usain Bolt's electrifying performance for gold at Beijing, "No telling what he (Bolt) could do if he ran start to finish."
It ’s never always someone else’s fault
I do not know Elmer G. Letterman but he is quoted as having said, “A man may fall many times but he won’t be a failure until he says someone pushed him.” Funny. There is still a tendency to respond to such wit, “But what if someone really did push me….isn’t that my validation?” It is not validation but rather an excuse to remain mediocre at best. The fourth lesson I have learned from not playing basketball is that, It’s never always someone else’s fault. My college coach stunned me early in my freshman year at a practice when he told us all that bad passes are the passer’s fault. I thought to myself, wait, “what if my guy has terrible hands or cuts to the basket with his head turned the wrong way? Would the inability to receive a pass not be the receivers fault at that point?” Coach said that he was tired of players blaming other people for their own poor decisions on the floor. “My teammate did not help me when I was beaten one-on-one.” Coach had a drill to ensure you did not get beaten one-on-one. “I could not take a charge because the referees called me for three early fouls and I did not want a fourth.” Coach had a drill for making charge-takers out of sissies. The concept was simple. Basketball is a game of competing. As a 17/18-year old freshman, I learned that blaming others only postponed
a confrontation with personal truth. Coach redefined “competing” as doing the right thing at the right time with maximum intensity.
To compete is to execute technique rehearsed in practice. It entails, for instance, telling a teammate he is being screened and helping on his man long enough to prevent an easy bucket. The principle of competing in every minute detail was the way in which my college coach attempted to garner selflessness in a team environment. In my college program, we did a 1-on-1 drill called “1-on-1 in the key.” The drill was simple. Stop three guys in-a-row before your defensive tenure is up. The only way out of the key was to throw a hard chest pass to an offensive player, close out on him and stop him from scoring using sound defensive principles. If you fouled him, you went back to zero stops. If he scored you went back to zero. If you missed
a blockout or gave up a rebound your stint on defense could feel like a sentence to the underworld of Greek mythology – eternal.
The lesson here is that blaming other people borders on insanity. In a game situation, you are the one guarding these offensive players so who will you blame? The technique for stopping an offensive player is not difficult to learn but feels physically unnatural. So I remember dreading this drill. I remember spending 30-45 minutes trying to stifle my fatigue and finish my sentence. It sucked. Nevertheless, I learned how to play defense. I’m 31 years old and I would challenge anybody to get by me on the first try. Blaming others does not teach us anything except how to shirk responsibility. Shouldering responsibility ensures that you get the tools needed for the game. All things equal, you should never fail in a contest if you have accepted the cost of preparation. Mastery of skills, information, concepts, etc. all lead to a performance of which one can be proud. Blaming others is a tool of deflection as much as it is a tool of deception. If we concentrated on what we control half as much as what we do not, our production would be exponentially increased. It’s never always someone else’s fault but it is always within one’s power to “compete.” That seems ironic but it is not. The someone you are blaming is often someone different and you are the one constant of every experience you have ever had in life. Surely the probability of every botched experience being the result of someone’s ineptitude must be astronomical. Again, you are the common denominator. You have private access to your thoughts and your physical abilities. You have consciousness if you are reading this right now. You are in control of far more than you realize. Humans can create the automobile, Velcro and telescopes that orbit the Earth but strangely find ourselves incapable of so much. To blame is to insult how we are created and I learned this good lesson from the best seat in the house – next to coach.
Before Tyson Gay came in 5th at last year's Olympic 100M semi-finals in Beijing he prepared with gold medalist Jon Drummond. Gay was the most heralded sprinter and favorite going for USA's chances at a 100m gold medal until he was injured at the Olympic trials. If you viewed the video, you got a glimpse of the rigor of Gay's workout along with the expectations of family members close to him. What stands out, however, is not that he was favored to win and fell out of contention but rather how he prepared himself and didn't blame anyone or even an injury for the performance he would give in Beijing. Despite his own disappointment, Gay commented following Jamaican Usain Bolt's electrifying performance for gold at Beijing, "No telling what he (Bolt) could do if he ran start to finish."
It ’s never always someone else’s fault
I do not know Elmer G. Letterman but he is quoted as having said, “A man may fall many times but he won’t be a failure until he says someone pushed him.” Funny. There is still a tendency to respond to such wit, “But what if someone really did push me….isn’t that my validation?” It is not validation but rather an excuse to remain mediocre at best. The fourth lesson I have learned from not playing basketball is that, It’s never always someone else’s fault. My college coach stunned me early in my freshman year at a practice when he told us all that bad passes are the passer’s fault. I thought to myself, wait, “what if my guy has terrible hands or cuts to the basket with his head turned the wrong way? Would the inability to receive a pass not be the receivers fault at that point?” Coach said that he was tired of players blaming other people for their own poor decisions on the floor. “My teammate did not help me when I was beaten one-on-one.” Coach had a drill to ensure you did not get beaten one-on-one. “I could not take a charge because the referees called me for three early fouls and I did not want a fourth.” Coach had a drill for making charge-takers out of sissies. The concept was simple. Basketball is a game of competing. As a 17/18-year old freshman, I learned that blaming others only postponed
a confrontation with personal truth. Coach redefined “competing” as doing the right thing at the right time with maximum intensity.
To compete is to execute technique rehearsed in practice. It entails, for instance, telling a teammate he is being screened and helping on his man long enough to prevent an easy bucket. The principle of competing in every minute detail was the way in which my college coach attempted to garner selflessness in a team environment. In my college program, we did a 1-on-1 drill called “1-on-1 in the key.” The drill was simple. Stop three guys in-a-row before your defensive tenure is up. The only way out of the key was to throw a hard chest pass to an offensive player, close out on him and stop him from scoring using sound defensive principles. If you fouled him, you went back to zero stops. If he scored you went back to zero. If you missed
a blockout or gave up a rebound your stint on defense could feel like a sentence to the underworld of Greek mythology – eternal.
The lesson here is that blaming other people borders on insanity. In a game situation, you are the one guarding these offensive players so who will you blame? The technique for stopping an offensive player is not difficult to learn but feels physically unnatural. So I remember dreading this drill. I remember spending 30-45 minutes trying to stifle my fatigue and finish my sentence. It sucked. Nevertheless, I learned how to play defense. I’m 31 years old and I would challenge anybody to get by me on the first try. Blaming others does not teach us anything except how to shirk responsibility. Shouldering responsibility ensures that you get the tools needed for the game. All things equal, you should never fail in a contest if you have accepted the cost of preparation. Mastery of skills, information, concepts, etc. all lead to a performance of which one can be proud. Blaming others is a tool of deflection as much as it is a tool of deception. If we concentrated on what we control half as much as what we do not, our production would be exponentially increased. It’s never always someone else’s fault but it is always within one’s power to “compete.” That seems ironic but it is not. The someone you are blaming is often someone different and you are the one constant of every experience you have ever had in life. Surely the probability of every botched experience being the result of someone’s ineptitude must be astronomical. Again, you are the common denominator. You have private access to your thoughts and your physical abilities. You have consciousness if you are reading this right now. You are in control of far more than you realize. Humans can create the automobile, Velcro and telescopes that orbit the Earth but strangely find ourselves incapable of so much. To blame is to insult how we are created and I learned this good lesson from the best seat in the house – next to coach.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Prude Went to See "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"
I haven't done much acting but on Monday I starred as the Prude in the theater watching the Transformers sequel. Some players on the varsity girls team that I coach warned that the movie was long. They didn't tell me it contained some of the most riveting special effects laced with over-sexualized inuendos and soft-pornographic references.
So there. I'm the prude but I submit that if you see the movie and were a Transformers fan growing up you know that your love for Optimus Prime, Bumble Bee and the Dinobots had nothing to do with profanity and coed dorm scenes promoting guilt-free sexual mythology. That's kind of a weird term but it is mythology...to think that cool movies are vehicles for an industry that creates slaves to the tune of billions. I'm facetious in saying that I'm a prude and here's why the sarcasm.
In "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" the main character (Sam) is the nucleus of a battle for human survival as Deceptigons consort to bring all of humanity to its knees. In the meantime, however, Sam goes off to college, lives in a coed dorm and encounters droves of model-type women who pose a threat to his relationship with the cutie back home. Inordinant amounts of time are spent displaying fictitious images of college students as sex-crazed junkies who are too sexy for their shirts and hair. It's the myth of youth being out-of-control from the blog yesterday. I'm the prude because I'm talking about it and people my whole life has asked me to relax. But I have one contention and it's directed toward men. Here it is: "Relaxing hasn't done men much good." Like Kanye West once wrote, "Have you seen the test? You got Ds...Ds..." Try Fs when it comes to self-control. Men are failing as fathers even when they are at home because so many young people tell their teachers that fathers are emotionally unavailable. Furthermore, porn is making slaves of many men...even Christian men.
So sticks and stones break bones but you can die crossing the street so I'm okay with the title "Prude." I just want to see Optimus Prime vanquish Megatron. I don't need a sideorder of cleavage to advance to plot. It's non-sequitir and yet we fall for it time and time again. I'm a nobody with a teacher's salary but if Michael Bay was listeing or anyone else from his camp I'd say, "dude make your money but don't forget that you play a role in this society. Men distract easily and do some pretty heinous things when they're not focused. Help the brothas out" Strength to love one's family is not formed in a vaccuum. Men everywhere are trying not to fail, trying not to give in to temptation, and trying to establish a commendable heritage once they've checked out. Is it prudish to ask movie makers of a PG-13 film to keep the creativity and ditch the kryptonite?
So there. I'm the prude but I submit that if you see the movie and were a Transformers fan growing up you know that your love for Optimus Prime, Bumble Bee and the Dinobots had nothing to do with profanity and coed dorm scenes promoting guilt-free sexual mythology. That's kind of a weird term but it is mythology...to think that cool movies are vehicles for an industry that creates slaves to the tune of billions. I'm facetious in saying that I'm a prude and here's why the sarcasm.
In "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" the main character (Sam) is the nucleus of a battle for human survival as Deceptigons consort to bring all of humanity to its knees. In the meantime, however, Sam goes off to college, lives in a coed dorm and encounters droves of model-type women who pose a threat to his relationship with the cutie back home. Inordinant amounts of time are spent displaying fictitious images of college students as sex-crazed junkies who are too sexy for their shirts and hair. It's the myth of youth being out-of-control from the blog yesterday. I'm the prude because I'm talking about it and people my whole life has asked me to relax. But I have one contention and it's directed toward men. Here it is: "Relaxing hasn't done men much good." Like Kanye West once wrote, "Have you seen the test? You got Ds...Ds..." Try Fs when it comes to self-control. Men are failing as fathers even when they are at home because so many young people tell their teachers that fathers are emotionally unavailable. Furthermore, porn is making slaves of many men...even Christian men.
So sticks and stones break bones but you can die crossing the street so I'm okay with the title "Prude." I just want to see Optimus Prime vanquish Megatron. I don't need a sideorder of cleavage to advance to plot. It's non-sequitir and yet we fall for it time and time again. I'm a nobody with a teacher's salary but if Michael Bay was listeing or anyone else from his camp I'd say, "dude make your money but don't forget that you play a role in this society. Men distract easily and do some pretty heinous things when they're not focused. Help the brothas out" Strength to love one's family is not formed in a vaccuum. Men everywhere are trying not to fail, trying not to give in to temptation, and trying to establish a commendable heritage once they've checked out. Is it prudish to ask movie makers of a PG-13 film to keep the creativity and ditch the kryptonite?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Out of Control
So I finished up yet another week of NBC basketball camp last Thursday and thanks be to God...no kids were lost...not one. We ended with the same amount we started with and the older I get the more phenemonal the feat appears to be. Statistics and pop culture pundits scoff at the good in our world illuminating with cynicism how kids are inundated with messages that encourage hate, haplessness and a sense of entitlement. It always sounds like there's little to no hope for the 9-18 year old. If I didn't run basketball camps from time-to-time, I might agree that America's youth are doomed.
But I didn't lose one camper last week and here's why it's a big deal. At camp, there's 1 staff member/coach for every 10 campers. While we're in the gym during the day, kids frequent the bathrooms, visit the training room in the event of injury and are generally exposed to visitors who sporadically show up on the campus where camp is held. At night, when the staff and campers retire to the dorms, 7-to-8 hours lie between night and the next day's roll call. There were at least four other groups on campus while my staff and I managed 66 athletes of mixed gender with various medical needs and levels of socialization. Why isn't there more bedlam amidst the camp? The answer has to be linked if not rooted in the character of young people who are not yet sullied beyond salvation.
To think that there are still young people who value authority and respond to it is a stern refutation of the notion that freedom is "doing whatever you want." The kids at camp didn't seem to believe that. They wanted to be challenged. We trained from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily and each camper completed an hour-long circuit trainng regimen called "Intensity Night" on Tuesday, June 23. Camp is Camp. Girls look across the cafeteria at the boys and vice-versa. Yes, someone tried to flush another boys shoe down a toilet. And Yes, kids put trail mix in one of my staff member's beds but out of control the youth culture is not. They are waiting - waiting to have their convictions excavated and their resolve tested. I didn't lose one kid at camp last week because they didn't want to be lost. It's as simple as that. Name one person you know who wants to be lost, aimless, and untethered? I'm convinced that people don't mind following if the leaders know where their going. Kids aren't out of control. They're out of patience with adults who abdicate responsibilty. You want to reclaim the youth? Be a model worthy of replicating.
But I didn't lose one camper last week and here's why it's a big deal. At camp, there's 1 staff member/coach for every 10 campers. While we're in the gym during the day, kids frequent the bathrooms, visit the training room in the event of injury and are generally exposed to visitors who sporadically show up on the campus where camp is held. At night, when the staff and campers retire to the dorms, 7-to-8 hours lie between night and the next day's roll call. There were at least four other groups on campus while my staff and I managed 66 athletes of mixed gender with various medical needs and levels of socialization. Why isn't there more bedlam amidst the camp? The answer has to be linked if not rooted in the character of young people who are not yet sullied beyond salvation.
To think that there are still young people who value authority and respond to it is a stern refutation of the notion that freedom is "doing whatever you want." The kids at camp didn't seem to believe that. They wanted to be challenged. We trained from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily and each camper completed an hour-long circuit trainng regimen called "Intensity Night" on Tuesday, June 23. Camp is Camp. Girls look across the cafeteria at the boys and vice-versa. Yes, someone tried to flush another boys shoe down a toilet. And Yes, kids put trail mix in one of my staff member's beds but out of control the youth culture is not. They are waiting - waiting to have their convictions excavated and their resolve tested. I didn't lose one kid at camp last week because they didn't want to be lost. It's as simple as that. Name one person you know who wants to be lost, aimless, and untethered? I'm convinced that people don't mind following if the leaders know where their going. Kids aren't out of control. They're out of patience with adults who abdicate responsibilty. You want to reclaim the youth? Be a model worthy of replicating.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Is it still a Man's World? (James Brown wants to know)
Ever heard the addage about the elephant in the room? You know the idiom that refers to the elephant comouflaged because it is the same color as the wallpaper in the room so no one sees this huge animal that weighs thousands of pounds. Pardon the overexplained metaphor but the "elephant in the room" on my mind is a question. Do people take female sports seriously?
I know what boys say. I know what I say and before you guess what that is, keep in mind that I am a girls coach for a high school basketball team. Honestly, I kind of coach them like boys so far. We play a style of offense and defense that my boys' teams played. We're sportsmanlike but viscious diving on the floor, being physical and the like. But echo the question. Do people (men) take girl athletes seriously? If so, when did it start? If not why not?
Is being different synonymous with weakness? You should hear how my girls team members responded to last night's Laker championship coronation. They coined this wit: "The Lakers turned off the Jazz, blew up the Rockets and ate some Nuggets and now they've made the Magic disappear..." They actually texted me that after the game and it was definitely a girl thing - guys are less poetic as a rule. But are the girls any less competitive? This afternoon they weren't cute. They were diving on the floor for loose balls and colliding with the opposition...literally. Bruises, headaches with a healthy mix of killer instinct. But are girls taken seriously? Better question. How does it feel to not be taken seriously? I could answer my own questions on any given day. The blog is for me to shut up and listen to others weigh in. So again I ask, "DO PEOPLE TAKE WOMEN'S ATHLETICS SERIOUSLY?" How you answer will undoubtedly reflect something noteworthy about society. So Man Up and speak the truth.
I know what boys say. I know what I say and before you guess what that is, keep in mind that I am a girls coach for a high school basketball team. Honestly, I kind of coach them like boys so far. We play a style of offense and defense that my boys' teams played. We're sportsmanlike but viscious diving on the floor, being physical and the like. But echo the question. Do people (men) take girl athletes seriously? If so, when did it start? If not why not?
Is being different synonymous with weakness? You should hear how my girls team members responded to last night's Laker championship coronation. They coined this wit: "The Lakers turned off the Jazz, blew up the Rockets and ate some Nuggets and now they've made the Magic disappear..." They actually texted me that after the game and it was definitely a girl thing - guys are less poetic as a rule. But are the girls any less competitive? This afternoon they weren't cute. They were diving on the floor for loose balls and colliding with the opposition...literally. Bruises, headaches with a healthy mix of killer instinct. But are girls taken seriously? Better question. How does it feel to not be taken seriously? I could answer my own questions on any given day. The blog is for me to shut up and listen to others weigh in. So again I ask, "DO PEOPLE TAKE WOMEN'S ATHLETICS SERIOUSLY?" How you answer will undoubtedly reflect something noteworthy about society. So Man Up and speak the truth.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Kobe You Love to Hate!
Last year I read about something called "schemata". Correct me if I'm wrong but it's kind of like the engrained information in your brain from having done something so many times. Dictionary.com defines it as an underlying organizational pattern or framework and it's been said that all the greats have it. The schemata is there with 4.3 seconds left or 3 and 2 with the bases loaded and 2 outs. The greats, in their minds, have done this drill already so they're calm under pressure seemingly impervious. But did you see the game tonight against Orlando? Schemata was clearly present as always. Kobe did what he normally does torching would-be defenders but throw in the variable of the human ability to learn and develop optimal responses to adverse situations. Lets call Kobe Bryant the adverse situation and enter the case in point.
Kobe Bryant has mastered as many details possessing the ability to mix and match counteless moves, countermoves, footwork, shot selections and reptilian decptiveness. Pun intended since he dubbed himself the Black Mamba, whcih I still think is a lame title. But I digress. His opponents are overmatched in preparedness, experience and confidence. That can't beat him one-on-one. They'll admit this in pre and postgame interviews. But basketball is not tennis and they don't have to stop Kobe. Teams and their assigned Kobe Stoppers hope that the "Mamba" trusts his schemata more than his teammates. If he bites, Kobe will attempt the impossible and play a one-man army. When and if he does that, the opposing team's job gets easier because they can focus solely on him. So tonight when he dribbled between those two guys and had the ball stolen, it was like when we try something we've done a million times and this time...it fails. I had ridden my bike across crosswalks my whole life but in 1990, I was hit by a car twice at the same intersection. Schemata didn't match real time events and I got roughed up by a light-duty pick-up truck.
What happened tonight in Orlando just looked like a guy who anticipated scenarios but in split second intervals couldn't coordinate what he visualized with real-time variables. It happens. In my mind I'm going to write this blog post, upload it to facebook, figure out pricing for self-publishing my book through Lulu.com, email my designer about the cover of my book, shower and spend some time in prayer. But what about fatigue and other things that pose as obstacles. You can't see everything and you can't close every game the right way. Funny thing is, nobody is harder on Kobe than Kobe and yet if you read the blogs and twitter after a loss like tonight's, at least 60% of the people swear Kobe is a fraud or at least overrated. Yo, he's just a human with schemata that 98% of the world's population lacks. He's great but not divine. We'll get the Orlando Magic in 5!
Kobe Bryant has mastered as many details possessing the ability to mix and match counteless moves, countermoves, footwork, shot selections and reptilian decptiveness. Pun intended since he dubbed himself the Black Mamba, whcih I still think is a lame title. But I digress. His opponents are overmatched in preparedness, experience and confidence. That can't beat him one-on-one. They'll admit this in pre and postgame interviews. But basketball is not tennis and they don't have to stop Kobe. Teams and their assigned Kobe Stoppers hope that the "Mamba" trusts his schemata more than his teammates. If he bites, Kobe will attempt the impossible and play a one-man army. When and if he does that, the opposing team's job gets easier because they can focus solely on him. So tonight when he dribbled between those two guys and had the ball stolen, it was like when we try something we've done a million times and this time...it fails. I had ridden my bike across crosswalks my whole life but in 1990, I was hit by a car twice at the same intersection. Schemata didn't match real time events and I got roughed up by a light-duty pick-up truck.
What happened tonight in Orlando just looked like a guy who anticipated scenarios but in split second intervals couldn't coordinate what he visualized with real-time variables. It happens. In my mind I'm going to write this blog post, upload it to facebook, figure out pricing for self-publishing my book through Lulu.com, email my designer about the cover of my book, shower and spend some time in prayer. But what about fatigue and other things that pose as obstacles. You can't see everything and you can't close every game the right way. Funny thing is, nobody is harder on Kobe than Kobe and yet if you read the blogs and twitter after a loss like tonight's, at least 60% of the people swear Kobe is a fraud or at least overrated. Yo, he's just a human with schemata that 98% of the world's population lacks. He's great but not divine. We'll get the Orlando Magic in 5!
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Did the Lakers make a statement in Game 1?
My college coach used to say that the professional players' huddle was no different than ours. He would say that the pros make mistakes too. They don't always do the details necessary for victory. I used to think: "Look, the average professional athlete has at least 300 to 400,000 reasons why he should be focused on the details need to win." Rebounding, fielding ground balls, making slapshots, reeling in a catch with your hands all go without saying if you're paid to play. Pros make plays. Or do they? I think my ex-coach was right. I watch televised games and multi-million dollar athletes drop passes, play lethargic, complain about bad calls and all because they suffer from the same ailment as the rest of us. They suffer from shortsightedness.
The Lakers annihilated the Orlando Magic in game 1 of the NBA finals by executing a game plan to attack Orlando's strongest player aggressively. In basketball we say, attack the big guy's body and he'll forget how to play defense. But even if Dwight Howard has an off night, why do the other players stand around getting out-rebounded, out-hustled and out-bulldogged? I can only surmise that the pros and the Joes (average Joes) have "shortsightedness" in common so much so that it's like we're all kindred. Not seeing the importance of details can hurt in various aspects of life. I once knocked a sliding glass door of its metal track and attempted to lean it against a wall until an adult came to reset it (I was 10 years-old). When I turned to walk away, I heard a strange sound and turned to find the sliding glass door falling toward me. I narrowly escaped as the metal edge of the door's frame missed my skull and carved a nice gash in my upper left shoulder blade. Needless to say it could have been worse.
But it seems like even the most esteemed people make childish mistakes and pay stiff consequences for it. Did the Lakers make a statement? Sure, they said to Orlando, "Remember what's at stake here and that the other team wants the prize so badly because they've been close before." The statement is not what the sprotscasters oversimplify as an intimidating gut punch that steals the heart of the opponent. These competitors (professional athletes) don't scare easily in the conventional sense but they do bear a need for occasional reminders that if you don't prepare your mind for battle, a formidable adversary will consume you. Statements of the "Game 1" variety serve as the smelling salts of life arousing the true nature of those ready to offer their best effort to causes worth fighting for.
My most recent "game 1" is in process right now as I learn to limit my commitments. My health and peace of mind often suffer because of how much I say yes to. It's certainly time to focus on the details of making my life count so I'm blogging and seeking fellowship with God more than ever. I'm learning that if I can say yes to God, the priorities become clearer and I might be able to win "Game 2".
The Lakers annihilated the Orlando Magic in game 1 of the NBA finals by executing a game plan to attack Orlando's strongest player aggressively. In basketball we say, attack the big guy's body and he'll forget how to play defense. But even if Dwight Howard has an off night, why do the other players stand around getting out-rebounded, out-hustled and out-bulldogged? I can only surmise that the pros and the Joes (average Joes) have "shortsightedness" in common so much so that it's like we're all kindred. Not seeing the importance of details can hurt in various aspects of life. I once knocked a sliding glass door of its metal track and attempted to lean it against a wall until an adult came to reset it (I was 10 years-old). When I turned to walk away, I heard a strange sound and turned to find the sliding glass door falling toward me. I narrowly escaped as the metal edge of the door's frame missed my skull and carved a nice gash in my upper left shoulder blade. Needless to say it could have been worse.
But it seems like even the most esteemed people make childish mistakes and pay stiff consequences for it. Did the Lakers make a statement? Sure, they said to Orlando, "Remember what's at stake here and that the other team wants the prize so badly because they've been close before." The statement is not what the sprotscasters oversimplify as an intimidating gut punch that steals the heart of the opponent. These competitors (professional athletes) don't scare easily in the conventional sense but they do bear a need for occasional reminders that if you don't prepare your mind for battle, a formidable adversary will consume you. Statements of the "Game 1" variety serve as the smelling salts of life arousing the true nature of those ready to offer their best effort to causes worth fighting for.
My most recent "game 1" is in process right now as I learn to limit my commitments. My health and peace of mind often suffer because of how much I say yes to. It's certainly time to focus on the details of making my life count so I'm blogging and seeking fellowship with God more than ever. I'm learning that if I can say yes to God, the priorities become clearer and I might be able to win "Game 2".
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
What to make of Lebron's Farewell
Lebron James is several days and one oral surgery removed from his championship run gone awry. Muppets were and are funny in those commercials. But I digress. Upon being held accountable for his failure to congratulate the Magic and show up for post game media interviews Lebron said, "It’s not being a poor sport or anything like that...If somebody beats you up, you’re not going to congratulate them." He felt justified in walking away from his opponent and refusing to participate in the pseudo-analyzing that is par for the NBA course throughout the regular season. The King (emperor) has no clothes or so goes the ancient fable about a ruler who was told he was donned in an exquisite garment that was invisible. The emperor in the fable paraded around as his subjects tolerated the disgraceful display in fear that upon alerting him to his nudity, they would be executed.
So what about LJ the "King", King James, the Cleveland franchise? Lebron simply did what all of us want to do after an embarrassing moment. He crawled under a rock during an emotional crisis. Is he justified? Certainly not for he is no more exempted than I am when I have to account for why I didn't play scholarship basketball, why I didn't marry the first person I was engaged to or why I didn't get accepted to a Ph.D. program two years back. Reality reeks of failure on many fronts and few are prepared for its fruit. Failure denotes a humanness that betrays pedestals and profuse accolades. At the end of Game 6 vs. Orlando, Lebron James was what he's always been...just a man from Akron, Ohio who has been morphed into a demagogue. He is neither innocent nor the sole culprit but rather one more symbol of how projected images and expectations mutilate self-perception.
No one shakes the opponents hand after a game because they're glad they got "it" handed to him. I can see it now, "Thanks man for kickin' our *@) tonight. I've been needin' one of those. Reminds me of my childhood." Come on. Who does that? We congratulate those who have beaten us because the only thing we control in a competitive world riddled with variables is our commitment to excellence. Preparation + Vigor = THE BEST YOU CAN GIVE. Game 6 is never about Orlando but rather about being pleased with how you have done justice to your gift. Lebron James is 6'9" and 260 lbs. He's the premier specimen athletically and he's further along in his basketball progression at 24 years old than most men in the world will ever be in the prime of their athletic prowess. He's an anomaly on so many levels but he, even he cannot manipulate the universe. None of us can. Shaking your opponents hand and doing a post game interview show that you can understand one fundamental truth: reality always trumps pride. You don't have to enjoy losing to be a good sport. You just have to be a king with the heart of his subjects.
So what about LJ the "King", King James, the Cleveland franchise? Lebron simply did what all of us want to do after an embarrassing moment. He crawled under a rock during an emotional crisis. Is he justified? Certainly not for he is no more exempted than I am when I have to account for why I didn't play scholarship basketball, why I didn't marry the first person I was engaged to or why I didn't get accepted to a Ph.D. program two years back. Reality reeks of failure on many fronts and few are prepared for its fruit. Failure denotes a humanness that betrays pedestals and profuse accolades. At the end of Game 6 vs. Orlando, Lebron James was what he's always been...just a man from Akron, Ohio who has been morphed into a demagogue. He is neither innocent nor the sole culprit but rather one more symbol of how projected images and expectations mutilate self-perception.
No one shakes the opponents hand after a game because they're glad they got "it" handed to him. I can see it now, "Thanks man for kickin' our *@) tonight. I've been needin' one of those. Reminds me of my childhood." Come on. Who does that? We congratulate those who have beaten us because the only thing we control in a competitive world riddled with variables is our commitment to excellence. Preparation + Vigor = THE BEST YOU CAN GIVE. Game 6 is never about Orlando but rather about being pleased with how you have done justice to your gift. Lebron James is 6'9" and 260 lbs. He's the premier specimen athletically and he's further along in his basketball progression at 24 years old than most men in the world will ever be in the prime of their athletic prowess. He's an anomaly on so many levels but he, even he cannot manipulate the universe. None of us can. Shaking your opponents hand and doing a post game interview show that you can understand one fundamental truth: reality always trumps pride. You don't have to enjoy losing to be a good sport. You just have to be a king with the heart of his subjects.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Lamar Odom
Do you know who Lamar Odom is because he's one of the most disputed talents in the modern basketball era. He is the quintessential mismatch with his 6'10" frame, left-handedness and ball-handling ability. But to the disputed part...he's accused of not showing up a lot and radio pundits march him to the trading block as often as kids skip lunch to play kickball. Lamar is the kind of guy that frustrates us fans because he doesn't always do what we think a highly compensated basketball veteran should. Lamar is also a reflection of us.
I can't get out of my head the characteristics of an NBA season that rise to my conscious mind thanks to Lamar Odom over the last nine years. I have to preface by saying that I didn't care for the guy when he was a Los Angeles Clipper fresh out of Rhode Island. Nevertheless, when I think of L.O., I'm reminded that players play 82 regular season games over a nine-month period. It makes me think...what if I numbered and named every problem I had in the last nine months? How many times was I discouraged, tired, sick, battling some form of apprehension toward a major challenge? Now imagine adding to nine-months of "life" the grueling demands of a professional athletics career. Aren't we all ontologically equal - subject to all of the same vulnerabilities? We have to be but we fans have created a false reality that makes Lamar Odom and his nine months of "life" only opportunistically compelling. Janet Jackson said it best when she sang, "What have you done for me lately?" Jackson's words are painfully accurate as fans are no more interested in the life of a Lamar Odom than they are in the lives of the thousands of people who drive past them daily.
See, Lamar Odom lost a child to sudden infant death syndrome in 2006. I'm not a parent but how do you just go out there and hit 20 and 10 when most days, even years later, you can't help but wonder what your son would be learning, speaking and demonstrating if he were alive. What mannerisms would he have acquired by now? But it doesn't matter because we just want to win. The irony, and it's taken me years to learn this one, is that if the Lakers win the championship I don't even get a free t-shirt. So why am I so intense? I should write L.O. and tell him I'm praying for his family. Once a dad, always a dad. That would help with "nine months of life" as a NBA star.
I can't get out of my head the characteristics of an NBA season that rise to my conscious mind thanks to Lamar Odom over the last nine years. I have to preface by saying that I didn't care for the guy when he was a Los Angeles Clipper fresh out of Rhode Island. Nevertheless, when I think of L.O., I'm reminded that players play 82 regular season games over a nine-month period. It makes me think...what if I numbered and named every problem I had in the last nine months? How many times was I discouraged, tired, sick, battling some form of apprehension toward a major challenge? Now imagine adding to nine-months of "life" the grueling demands of a professional athletics career. Aren't we all ontologically equal - subject to all of the same vulnerabilities? We have to be but we fans have created a false reality that makes Lamar Odom and his nine months of "life" only opportunistically compelling. Janet Jackson said it best when she sang, "What have you done for me lately?" Jackson's words are painfully accurate as fans are no more interested in the life of a Lamar Odom than they are in the lives of the thousands of people who drive past them daily.
See, Lamar Odom lost a child to sudden infant death syndrome in 2006. I'm not a parent but how do you just go out there and hit 20 and 10 when most days, even years later, you can't help but wonder what your son would be learning, speaking and demonstrating if he were alive. What mannerisms would he have acquired by now? But it doesn't matter because we just want to win. The irony, and it's taken me years to learn this one, is that if the Lakers win the championship I don't even get a free t-shirt. So why am I so intense? I should write L.O. and tell him I'm praying for his family. Once a dad, always a dad. That would help with "nine months of life" as a NBA star.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Kobron or Lebrobe...more debate about who's better
Combine the names and it sounds like a high performance European sports car or maybe cologne. At any rate, I won't be back in the barber shop for a couple of weeks so I've gotten more fuel for my Kobe vs. Lebron "discussion" via teens, facebookers and pundits. So far the majority of Kobe haters who I've encountered still refer to his dynamic partnership with Shaq which went awry some fiv be years ago. Kobe is scapegoated as the reason why no championship parades have graced the streets of Los Angeles since 2002. You know LA. We love to win. We also love to cut our athletes' throats when they don't bring home the hardware. Lest I digress, however, Kobe is also considered less than manly for the way he is a bit of an isolationist. He's also been billed a coward because he didn't fight Karfl Malone when it was divulged that the mail man had delivered flirtatious remarks to Mrs. Bryant. Coward? Have you seen Karl Malone? There's a host of other reasons why Kobe is not the choic eof some Los Angelinos. I mean, if being from the hood is a badge of honor, sounds like Kobe is once again short of credentials.
On the other hand, Lebron fits that bill being poor and from Akron, Ohio. He's the epitome of the high school phenom who's success earned him a one-way ticket out of poverty. Heart-warming to say the least, it makes for a great documentary. And good grief, the King is only 24 years old. How's that for an up side. James is dominating the compwith physical prowess and a basketball IQ nearly unrivaled. He's a quesadilla...all of the best ingredients rolled into one bite and if you watch him enough, perhaps your inner Lebron starts to hate the seemingly over-confident, privileged kid from Philadelphia's Lower Merion in favor of you-know-who.
See, I don't think there's anything wrong with not liking the home time hero, though I happen to think he's great. But there's always something wrong with ignoring the point of a conversation. Who's the better player? Let's talk about basketball and save the emotion for more important discourse. Pseudo piety unintended.
On the other hand, Lebron fits that bill being poor and from Akron, Ohio. He's the epitome of the high school phenom who's success earned him a one-way ticket out of poverty. Heart-warming to say the least, it makes for a great documentary. And good grief, the King is only 24 years old. How's that for an up side. James is dominating the compwith physical prowess and a basketball IQ nearly unrivaled. He's a quesadilla...all of the best ingredients rolled into one bite and if you watch him enough, perhaps your inner Lebron starts to hate the seemingly over-confident, privileged kid from Philadelphia's Lower Merion in favor of you-know-who.
See, I don't think there's anything wrong with not liking the home time hero, though I happen to think he's great. But there's always something wrong with ignoring the point of a conversation. Who's the better player? Let's talk about basketball and save the emotion for more important discourse. Pseudo piety unintended.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Best Player Ever
So I'm talking to these guys at the barber shop about Kobe and Lebron. It was weird. You know how you end up in a conversation that you never meant to join? I'm the Laker fan unapologetically but I hate those pointless comparisons between players who are disimilar in so many ways. Kobe is 212 lbs and Lebron tips the scale at 260+. One is a forward the other a true scoring guard. One could play in the NFL and the other should definitely keep his day job.
Here's a question you ain't gonna hear in ya "Baba Shop". Why does everyone care so much about comparing athletes they'll never play against or meet? Next time you're gettin' your sideburns trimmed and pointed, ask somebody, during the heart of the discourse, why they care so much. There's a testy tenor in those atmospheres akin to when you're defending your mother's honor because she's just been called fat or ugly. Whether the accusations are true is besides the point right? You just put the gloves on and start the superhero bit. I'm just as guilty because there I was in the chair going back-and-forth with Laker haters who think Kobe shoots too much and doesn't make his teammates better. I was arguing like a 13-year old and I was mad for one reason. "They think their star is better than mine". I don't know Kobe and the only Lakers I've ever played with or against aren't the stars of the team. I should bring them up next time. Hey forget Lebron and Kobe, let's compare Jordan Farmar to the Spurs Jacque Vaughn. Nah, it's not nearly as fun.
In the end I guess Lebron should live on Twitter to check his rep every now and again. Hey it's safe King thanks to the conscientious purveyors of fine grooming. The LA guys like you more than the home town favorite.
Here's a question you ain't gonna hear in ya "Baba Shop". Why does everyone care so much about comparing athletes they'll never play against or meet? Next time you're gettin' your sideburns trimmed and pointed, ask somebody, during the heart of the discourse, why they care so much. There's a testy tenor in those atmospheres akin to when you're defending your mother's honor because she's just been called fat or ugly. Whether the accusations are true is besides the point right? You just put the gloves on and start the superhero bit. I'm just as guilty because there I was in the chair going back-and-forth with Laker haters who think Kobe shoots too much and doesn't make his teammates better. I was arguing like a 13-year old and I was mad for one reason. "They think their star is better than mine". I don't know Kobe and the only Lakers I've ever played with or against aren't the stars of the team. I should bring them up next time. Hey forget Lebron and Kobe, let's compare Jordan Farmar to the Spurs Jacque Vaughn. Nah, it's not nearly as fun.
In the end I guess Lebron should live on Twitter to check his rep every now and again. Hey it's safe King thanks to the conscientious purveyors of fine grooming. The LA guys like you more than the home town favorite.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I'll take the Physical Challenge
I'm 33 years old and if you're my age or no more than five years younger you remember these words from the Nickelodeon TV show Double Dare. If you didn't know the answer to a question on the kids talk show, I think you could take "the physical challenge". See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zfmmt-QoP9g for an example of one. It was corny on a late 1980s, afternoon, pre HD, Joe Roganless kind of level. But man this 7th grader watched it religiously and sometimes I wonder...if I could, if you could take the physical challenge or face a Fear Factor-like option instead of dealing with whatever problem you're going through, would I/would you?
Think about it. Some test you took shows 65% and you have to tell your parents. You drive your car 10,000 miles before an oil change instead of the recommended 3,000 resulting in your car's demise. Or better yet, someone close to you is terminally ill and you are having a hard time coping. "I'll take the physical Challenge" you say and out comes the obstacle course complete with slime or fish entrails. Would you rather eat the stomach lining of a Tazmanian Devil than to face your most pressing conundrum? Would you bungy jump off of the Statue of Liberty or lick the bottom of a shoe you wore while in a public restroom?
It's interesting that life doesn't offer a shortcut to dealing with complexities. We're forced to our recourse which varies depending on the individual. People claim to be "keeping it together" as they face life's toughest challenges but how? No one keeps it together minus a perspective that a greater significance preempts the existing trial. What is the sovereign perspective that people possess? Are there more Theists out there than previously thought - people who genuinely believe in the Creator of the universe and that same Creator's providence? People are coping somehow because there are no "Physical Challenges". Double Dare went off the air in 1993-1994. People are makin' it or fakin' it but if they're makin' it because of something bigger than themselves...they should share the secret as if they've found the cure for Swine Flu.
Think about it. Some test you took shows 65% and you have to tell your parents. You drive your car 10,000 miles before an oil change instead of the recommended 3,000 resulting in your car's demise. Or better yet, someone close to you is terminally ill and you are having a hard time coping. "I'll take the physical Challenge" you say and out comes the obstacle course complete with slime or fish entrails. Would you rather eat the stomach lining of a Tazmanian Devil than to face your most pressing conundrum? Would you bungy jump off of the Statue of Liberty or lick the bottom of a shoe you wore while in a public restroom?
It's interesting that life doesn't offer a shortcut to dealing with complexities. We're forced to our recourse which varies depending on the individual. People claim to be "keeping it together" as they face life's toughest challenges but how? No one keeps it together minus a perspective that a greater significance preempts the existing trial. What is the sovereign perspective that people possess? Are there more Theists out there than previously thought - people who genuinely believe in the Creator of the universe and that same Creator's providence? People are coping somehow because there are no "Physical Challenges". Double Dare went off the air in 1993-1994. People are makin' it or fakin' it but if they're makin' it because of something bigger than themselves...they should share the secret as if they've found the cure for Swine Flu.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Chicken Pox
We grow out of lots of things during the transition from childhood to adolescence and beyond. We get childhood illnesses and move on vaguely remembering the itching and relief of calamine lotion. Well, I got the Chicken Pox when I was 18. 18!!! I thought I really was going to die. On the scalp, back, stomach...even inside the throat the onslaught left me 12 pounds lighter.
People talk about God as an afterthought akin to the pediatric pestilence we fondly remember and muse over when someone says, "How'd you get that ugly scar." But God and pox share few similarities. The point of the post here isn't to discuss chicken or other oddly named diseases. The "Pox" is a symbol of misplaced nostalgia such as when we reflect on the so-called naivete of faith in God. People walk around like they own the place (earth). Funny. Some owners we are hating, killing, cheating, behaving unnaturally and watching others do it. People renounce that they ever required the assistance of mythology (That's what bona fide Christianity is reduced to after people evolve) as if some ancient scroll revealed conclusively that divinity is pure illusion.
You know what's hard? Self-awareness and the willingness to trust instincts and intuition that run counter to many social mores. See, people walk away from faith because they're disappointed in the very people Jesus came to save. Imagine that...being upset at the creation and pretending that the creator doesn't exist. It's a logical fallacy. My watch is a creation but if it fails to tick, I don't pretend that Timex is illusory. Faith in God doesn't fade and people don't grow out of it but it can be strangled to death. Maybe we're too grown up for our own good (chuckle). I'm not sure it's amusing.
People talk about God as an afterthought akin to the pediatric pestilence we fondly remember and muse over when someone says, "How'd you get that ugly scar." But God and pox share few similarities. The point of the post here isn't to discuss chicken or other oddly named diseases. The "Pox" is a symbol of misplaced nostalgia such as when we reflect on the so-called naivete of faith in God. People walk around like they own the place (earth). Funny. Some owners we are hating, killing, cheating, behaving unnaturally and watching others do it. People renounce that they ever required the assistance of mythology (That's what bona fide Christianity is reduced to after people evolve) as if some ancient scroll revealed conclusively that divinity is pure illusion.
You know what's hard? Self-awareness and the willingness to trust instincts and intuition that run counter to many social mores. See, people walk away from faith because they're disappointed in the very people Jesus came to save. Imagine that...being upset at the creation and pretending that the creator doesn't exist. It's a logical fallacy. My watch is a creation but if it fails to tick, I don't pretend that Timex is illusory. Faith in God doesn't fade and people don't grow out of it but it can be strangled to death. Maybe we're too grown up for our own good (chuckle). I'm not sure it's amusing.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The Best Laid Plans...Often Go as Planned
The age-old aphorism is not consistent with this title. The plans go awry according to the Scottish poem by Robert Burns. But more practically, how many people actually plan anything? Get out of the romanticized view of yourself for a minute, applauding yourself for how you prepare for the annual review or the semester research project worth "mad" points. Yeah, you can bet my last money you'll prepare when it counts. Job in jeopardy? Grade at stake? We become the most meticulous tacticians. But I'm sitting here writing this post. Somebody convinced me that if you have a passion you've got to find others who share it.
So that's the plan...to find those who share conviction and reject nominal hum-drumity. So what if you pack your lunch every morning and know that you'll be at the gym by 4 and tucked in by 9. That takes little to no planning but the best laid plans of purposeful humanity hinge on ascribing value to what you'd pay yourself to do if you could afford it. Play your 6ixth Man! We learn pretty early in life that you're either into life for the pursuit of superficiality or things that matter. Ain't no other way you can put it. If you're chasin' loot and content with the chase, you've sold out. No plan required for that. If you've got an idea that helps others, and I'm sure you do. think it through and lay those plans down so people don't have to make up meaningful things to say in memoriam one day.
So that's the plan...to find those who share conviction and reject nominal hum-drumity. So what if you pack your lunch every morning and know that you'll be at the gym by 4 and tucked in by 9. That takes little to no planning but the best laid plans of purposeful humanity hinge on ascribing value to what you'd pay yourself to do if you could afford it. Play your 6ixth Man! We learn pretty early in life that you're either into life for the pursuit of superficiality or things that matter. Ain't no other way you can put it. If you're chasin' loot and content with the chase, you've sold out. No plan required for that. If you've got an idea that helps others, and I'm sure you do. think it through and lay those plans down so people don't have to make up meaningful things to say in memoriam one day.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The Best Laid Plans...Part One
As of Today the Lakers are tied 2-2 in their epic contest with the Houston Rockets. The most recent chapter was all but abyssmal to behold what with the Lakers' inefficiency. Rockets routed us today and without their two best players. It's proof positive of one thing though that runs a bit deeper than the hackneyed Tortoise vs. Hare fable. We know and underdog when we see one but at the end of the day, any professional contest features world class athletes vs. the like. So I'm not overly entralled with David vs. Goliath aphorisms. David was no underdog with his passion, skilled use of weaponry (sling) and most importantly, the favor of Yahweh. What's more interesting to me is the presumption of humans.
People, WE ARE THE LAKERS! We are the arrogant, self-righteous and the perpetually distracted. We are those who plan for tomorrow after having said yesterday that we would bask in the accomplishments of today. We look past the beauty of our journey missing all that is utterly valuable in life. Today happens to be Mother's Day. It was a balmy 74ish degrees in much of Southern California where I live. Many of us spent an afternoon with family or pets, perhaps children. Maybe you even managed a nap. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." Careful what you take for granted be it the Yao-less Houston Rockets or the brief stint during which you live, move and have your being.
People, WE ARE THE LAKERS! We are the arrogant, self-righteous and the perpetually distracted. We are those who plan for tomorrow after having said yesterday that we would bask in the accomplishments of today. We look past the beauty of our journey missing all that is utterly valuable in life. Today happens to be Mother's Day. It was a balmy 74ish degrees in much of Southern California where I live. Many of us spent an afternoon with family or pets, perhaps children. Maybe you even managed a nap. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." Careful what you take for granted be it the Yao-less Houston Rockets or the brief stint during which you live, move and have your being.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Push Comes to a Shove
The method of choice is definitely force when playoffs come around. Did you catch Game 2 of Lakers vs. Houston in the 2nd round of the 2009 playoffs. Derek Fisher was ejected for an intentional elbow to the head of a Houston's Luis Scola who was setting a dirty screen. Then Von Wafer was sent to the showers by his own coach for basically being a bad employee and giving too much lip on the sidelines. Then Ron Artest was told to pack it up when he claimed Kobe elbowed him in the throat and got chest-to-chest with our team leader.
Physicality was at max levels with more than a little shovin' going on. Testosterone personified is what we experienced last night. Toughness came into discussion in other blogs and people said everything from, "The Lakers are dirty" to "It's all in the game". But two questions: #1 What's in the game that belongs there and doesn't? #2 What does the elite athlete really use as a motivator? My senior year in college (I think....it's been a while) I caught an elbow to the left eye socket during a game. My eye swelled nearly shut and coach sat me down because I was having trouble seeing the forest for the big puffy tissue obstructing the view. I never thought the guy who gave the elbow was dirty though. It just wasn't on my radar. Nor did I muse about vengeance. I took my lump and sported a black eye for a few weeks.
I think more important than the pushin' and shovin' is the motivation for wanting to win the NBA championship. Are Kobe and the gang keen on being the champ for bragging rights and another banner in the rafters of Stapledom or is it superficially the playoff bonuses players get for advancing deepest into the playoffs? Pros are so passionate, almost superfluously. Scratch that. They are definitely over the top but when the scratchin' and clawin' of NBA post-season begins (and it has) what's the reason? I play pick up hoop a lot and guys hold, push and trip. Let's just say when it comes to that littany of tactics, I'm not a fan. There's a definition of competition that rears its head every year about this time. Guys are exhibiting divine-like physical grace in nose-to-nose battle and then ruining the display with taunting of opposing players. Then afterward, both teams calmly and with erudite delivery address media as if they've just been out in the garden trimming a few prized roses. Duplicitous is a word I want to use but then I would sound like I think I'm anything better. I'm not. I just want to know to what extent the grappling affects society. I'm willing to fight over a few things but I'm not sure sports is supposed to be one of them.
Physicality was at max levels with more than a little shovin' going on. Testosterone personified is what we experienced last night. Toughness came into discussion in other blogs and people said everything from, "The Lakers are dirty" to "It's all in the game". But two questions: #1 What's in the game that belongs there and doesn't? #2 What does the elite athlete really use as a motivator? My senior year in college (I think....it's been a while) I caught an elbow to the left eye socket during a game. My eye swelled nearly shut and coach sat me down because I was having trouble seeing the forest for the big puffy tissue obstructing the view. I never thought the guy who gave the elbow was dirty though. It just wasn't on my radar. Nor did I muse about vengeance. I took my lump and sported a black eye for a few weeks.
I think more important than the pushin' and shovin' is the motivation for wanting to win the NBA championship. Are Kobe and the gang keen on being the champ for bragging rights and another banner in the rafters of Stapledom or is it superficially the playoff bonuses players get for advancing deepest into the playoffs? Pros are so passionate, almost superfluously. Scratch that. They are definitely over the top but when the scratchin' and clawin' of NBA post-season begins (and it has) what's the reason? I play pick up hoop a lot and guys hold, push and trip. Let's just say when it comes to that littany of tactics, I'm not a fan. There's a definition of competition that rears its head every year about this time. Guys are exhibiting divine-like physical grace in nose-to-nose battle and then ruining the display with taunting of opposing players. Then afterward, both teams calmly and with erudite delivery address media as if they've just been out in the garden trimming a few prized roses. Duplicitous is a word I want to use but then I would sound like I think I'm anything better. I'm not. I just want to know to what extent the grappling affects society. I'm willing to fight over a few things but I'm not sure sports is supposed to be one of them.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Numb to Pain
I used to watch these "Faces of Death" videos that depicted amateur recordings of real-life horrific encounters between humans and anything capable of causing pain and/or fatality. We shouldn't have watched that stuff - creepy footage of people jumping from buildings, being mangled by wild alligators, thrown from vehicles, etc. I'm not even sure why we were interested in such things, especially since it was the real deal.
Pain is an awful reality. Athletes resist it, overcome it, concede careers to it. Lamar Odom experienced it a couple of years back when he lost his infant son to SIDS. Kobe Bryant endured it when he was publicly exposed for infidelity. Andrew Bynum withstood it in two consecutive years when he suffered knee injuries that cut his seasons short. The list of Pain's afflictees is endless and probably renders one truth. No one is numb and no one is exempt. We all hurt in various ways but numbness is the panacea of our age.
It seems like we seek anesthesia rather than remedy - the stuff that dulls the pain but leaves you vulnerable to its return. There are narcotics, alcoholic depressants, co-dependent relationships and a host of other shortcuts we embrace to escape pain. But pain alerts to illness and all illness requires treatment. Man you could write a book about pain and its benefits. But ain't nobody goona buy it (excuse the double negative). Nobody invites pain but it teaches so much. Make no mistake; pain is not to be sought but when it inevitably comes, we do well to note the causes and analyze them to the most minute component.
If you're an athlete prone to ankle sprains there's a reason for your predisposition. Muscular atrophy maybe? I recently discocvered patellar tendonitis complete with a side order of excruciating pain. For two years I medicated just to play hoop. I medicated the day of the Clippers workout and later during semi-pro games. 400, 600 then 800 mg just to suit up and "shoot the J...shoot it." I was clearly not numb to pain, just too stupid to address its source because healing takes a commitment. Anesthesia takes a moment. Once I chose healing, I found out one leg was 40% weaker than its counterpart. The weak leg was 1-inch smaller in circumfrence and my scar tissue around the injured knee became exposed.
I accepted my chicken leg and committed to physical therapy for 10 months. I'm not healed but I'm better and I can play the game without feelin' like a "junkie".
Pain is an awful reality. Athletes resist it, overcome it, concede careers to it. Lamar Odom experienced it a couple of years back when he lost his infant son to SIDS. Kobe Bryant endured it when he was publicly exposed for infidelity. Andrew Bynum withstood it in two consecutive years when he suffered knee injuries that cut his seasons short. The list of Pain's afflictees is endless and probably renders one truth. No one is numb and no one is exempt. We all hurt in various ways but numbness is the panacea of our age.
It seems like we seek anesthesia rather than remedy - the stuff that dulls the pain but leaves you vulnerable to its return. There are narcotics, alcoholic depressants, co-dependent relationships and a host of other shortcuts we embrace to escape pain. But pain alerts to illness and all illness requires treatment. Man you could write a book about pain and its benefits. But ain't nobody goona buy it (excuse the double negative). Nobody invites pain but it teaches so much. Make no mistake; pain is not to be sought but when it inevitably comes, we do well to note the causes and analyze them to the most minute component.
If you're an athlete prone to ankle sprains there's a reason for your predisposition. Muscular atrophy maybe? I recently discocvered patellar tendonitis complete with a side order of excruciating pain. For two years I medicated just to play hoop. I medicated the day of the Clippers workout and later during semi-pro games. 400, 600 then 800 mg just to suit up and "shoot the J...shoot it." I was clearly not numb to pain, just too stupid to address its source because healing takes a commitment. Anesthesia takes a moment. Once I chose healing, I found out one leg was 40% weaker than its counterpart. The weak leg was 1-inch smaller in circumfrence and my scar tissue around the injured knee became exposed.
I accepted my chicken leg and committed to physical therapy for 10 months. I'm not healed but I'm better and I can play the game without feelin' like a "junkie".
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Off the top Rope
That was my favorite wrestling move...anything off the top rope. I'm talking 80's so Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat, Randy "Macho Man" Savage and other high fliers. You remember how tension would mount at the end of those classic WWF (pre WWE) matches as the hero or villain slowly ascended the turnbuckle to take flight and finish the vulnerable opponent who lay on the canvas. This was the culminating gesture mostly for the fan's delight but every now and then, the possum on the mat moved and the high flier proved fool hearty. He shouldn't have wasted time climbing the rope when he could have pinned his wounded victim and gotten the thing over with. On these occasions my crew of wrestling devotees watched in horror as our icon writhed in pain from hitting the mat instead of his enemy. Proof positive that if you toy with victory...well.
There's been a lot of talk in Lakerdom about the Purple and Gold blowing leads. Up by 20 in the 3rd quarter then struggling to beat teams by five points. Bloggers say that Kobe and friends have a defensive problem and need professional help. Others say it's the bench coming in and squandering the leads. There's a lot of sports being played at any moment of any day around the globe and I'm thinking the Lakers aren't the only one's guilty of "top-rope pride" which begs the question Why? What's in our nature that causes us to let up or assume that the "opponent" is done fighting?
There's a show I watch called "The Unit". They have a saying on the show that "a distracted solider is a dead solider". Morbid huh? Anyway, maybe CBS is on to something. Respectively we're all soldiers in some sense and distraction usually causes an undersirable outcome. At least I've found it to be true. If a win is a win, there's no need for top-rope theatrics. Maybe we're too showy - ostentacious gluttons for attention. I still have a little glutton in me but he's banned from the top rope.
There's been a lot of talk in Lakerdom about the Purple and Gold blowing leads. Up by 20 in the 3rd quarter then struggling to beat teams by five points. Bloggers say that Kobe and friends have a defensive problem and need professional help. Others say it's the bench coming in and squandering the leads. There's a lot of sports being played at any moment of any day around the globe and I'm thinking the Lakers aren't the only one's guilty of "top-rope pride" which begs the question Why? What's in our nature that causes us to let up or assume that the "opponent" is done fighting?
There's a show I watch called "The Unit". They have a saying on the show that "a distracted solider is a dead solider". Morbid huh? Anyway, maybe CBS is on to something. Respectively we're all soldiers in some sense and distraction usually causes an undersirable outcome. At least I've found it to be true. If a win is a win, there's no need for top-rope theatrics. Maybe we're too showy - ostentacious gluttons for attention. I still have a little glutton in me but he's banned from the top rope.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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:
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.
Monday, April 27, 2009
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:
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.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
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 :-).
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 :-).
Saturday, April 25, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, April 24, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
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.