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Seeing the Whole Field

September 20, 2013

I spent almost all of my days as a competitive athlete in a position where all the other players were in my field of vision.

From the age of 10 until I gave up baseball at 20, I was a catcher. I spent my entire career in foul territory, observing the other players in fair, the entire diamond before me.

In basketball I was what we now call a “point guard.” As I brought the ball up court, the other nine players were in front of me.

As a high school and college football player, I was a defensive safety. No one was to get behind me; and at every snap, 21 other players were in my field of vision.

I’ve always known that participation in sports shaped very much of my character; but only recently – nearer the end of my professional career than to the start – am I seeing the whole field and appreciating the fullness of that influence. For example:

  • To be the one who asks for the fast ball or curve. Or the change-up when it’s needed.
  • To be the one who sets up each play and delivers the pass to get it started. And watching others score.
  • To be the one who makes the tackle when no one else is left to do so.
  • And most of all, to see the whole field; to see all of one’s teammates and observe how they all are indispensable to a winning performance.

“How” Matters More

March 4, 2014

“It’s not whether you win or lose; it’s how you play the game.” We’ve all heard that bromide, especially when we were just starting out as young athletes.

Well, it does matter who wins. Any time a score is kept, the result of the competition matters to people. And there is very much that is very good about trying to win – giving one’s best effort to prepare for and execute a victory. Trying to win is much better than not trying to win. Sloppy effort does not benefit the participants, or anybody else for that matter.

And this unveils the deeper truth of that tiresome platitude: how you play the game is more important than who wins the game.

One of many events that proves this point to me is a football game played late in the season nearly two decades ago. A team from the east side of our state played against a team from the west side. I don’t remember the final score. I don’t remember which team won the game. But I do remember that there was an ugly incident at the end of the game. 

How that game was played in its closing moments has stayed with me for longer than who was victorious.