By: Topher Wiles
Do you
remember Robert Fulghum’s ideas from his book “Everything I Need to Know I Learned
in Kindergarten”? These great tips inspire, remind, and redirect us to some of the most important concepts in
life. Some of those worthwhile truth
tidbits include: “Share everything,” “Play fair,” “Say you’re sorry,” “FLUSH!”
and “Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.” Since I’m nearing 40 years old and can’t
remember the deep truths of my kindergarten years, I have to work with what is
nearer in my addled memory; the
Championship tournament game in Vision basketball league. In my 25 seasons of coaching, I’ve never
personally witnessed a climatic movie-style moment like this.
If the
Vision League is new for you, here’s a little info. Imagine a normal basketball game where the
parents aren’t allowed to yell obscene comments to the referees. Picture hoops where opposing teams go out to
eat ice cream together afterwards. Consider
a game where each player gets the same amount of periods of play every time. Meditate on basketball where each game and
practice includes a spiritual devotional from coaches and parents. Imagine a league where the most desirable
award isn’t an MVP, but the “Christ Like” award. Now you have the backdrop for
the Church of Christ sponsored Vision Basketball League and our monumental
moment.
Our
team with bright orange jerseys had a lot of heart but got off to a slow
start. While other teams focused in on
specific plays in the first practices, because of our lack of raw talent, we
needed desperately to work on the fundamentals. Passing and dribbling, dribbling and passing,
over and over again became the thrust of our practices. Even though we lost a tight first game, it
paid off because we could proudly proclaim that all of our players were
credited with an assist. It was a proud
moment for a coach. Yet an even prouder
moment would come.
It was
the last game of the regular season, and after going through the stats, our
coaching staff realized only one player, we’ll call him “Paul”, hadn’t scored
throughout the entire season. He had a
few opportunities, but it seemed the foul shots always fell short, the
defenders were always too quick to block, or the rim was just too unforgiving
for Paul to get his first ever bucket in the Vision League. We were blessed with a sizable half-time lead,
and the team agreed on one primary strategy: “Get Paul the ball!” Try as he might through two periods and an
overtime, Paul just could not get that orange ball to fall through the
hoop.
Tournament
time came around. Again and again our
point guards passed to Paul. Over and over
our forwards set screens for Paul. Time
and again Paul’s shots just wouldn’t fall.
We were pulling out the wins, but there was a growing sense on the team
that time was running out. We were
working so hard to give Paul his shot, but the clock was working against
us. The final championship game saw our
fundamentally-sound but underdog team compete against a physically bigger and
talent-superior team, and Paul still didn’t have a bucket. Halftime saw the score tied at 13-13 due to
the physical stamina and heart of our little underdogs. Our boys fought hard deep into the game, but
we saw the opponents build an insurmountable lead going into the final
period. It was our point-guard, a kid
with lightning-fast handles from Sparta, who said, “Coach, do you want me to
get ‘Paul’ the ball?”
That
last period was rough. Paul tried
shooting repeatedly only to have bricks rebound to the other team, shots
blocked by players a head taller than him, and his screens knocked over or
avoided. With 1.1 seconds left on the
clock, losing in the final period, and our team being awarded an inbounds pass
near our basket, the hopes of our team rested on one final chance. Yet our players, most importantly Paul, never
gave up hope.
The
referees, opposing coach, and parents in the stands had caught on to what we
were trying to do. All eyes were focused
on Paul on the final play of the game.
It was as if all the collective hearts in the gymnasium were bonded together,
willing him to success. Tension was
building. Moms were wringing their
hands. Parents were shouting words of
encouragement during the timeout. Coaches
gave knowing glances. Referees nodded in
approval. The play aptly named “The Wall”
was called. A triple screen of our
tallest players was set at the edge of the paint. Paul found his position 15 feet from the
basket near the baseline. Our
point-guard put a perfect bounce-pass into Paul’s hands right at his
chest. Legs flexed. Wrist snapped. The ball arced high. Nothing but net as the
buzzer sounded.
Paul
was humble as the entire gymnasium erupted with cheers. The better team won the championship last week
in the Vision Basketball League, a recognition they rightly deserved. Yet the kids with the bright orange jerseys
won admiration from their peers, coaches, parents, and referees for their
unselfish play. Every team member
scored, assisted, rebounded, and stole a turnover this season, which draws a
big smile on my face as I look back.
More importantly, I learned some deep truths about life and church this basketball
season.
- Playing games is best when you’re
playing with friends. That’s why God gave
us the Church.
- There is no “I” in TEAM. That’s
why God’s Church gives everyone a role.
- Sharing is still the best way to build relationships. That’s why the early church “had all things in common.”
- Until the clock runs out, keep shooting
toward your hopes, your dreams, and your goals. “Let us not become weary in doing good, for
at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” – Galatians 6:9
Life is bigger than basketball, but I’m grateful God uses
games to teach us so much.
The word “forte” comes from the latin word “fortis” meaning strength. Our weekly Family Forte article in The Expositor is the effort of family at CentralChurch of Christ to give your family the love, care, and attention it needs to become a stronger version of itself. If we can help you in any way, please contact us at Central Church of Christ through email, topherwiles@spartacoc.com, or through our website, www.spartacoc.com.