Lessons Learned in Church Basketball

You wouldn't know it now, but as a teenager, I liked playing basketball a lot. My friends used to joke that I had tried out for basketball in high school, but they already had one.

My friends were the driving force of my love for basketball. My four best friends were well over 6 feet tall and any of them could've played school ball (and a couple of them did). We all played on a church league team together.I wasn't any good, but I loved to play.

Since I was a year older than three of my friends, when I graduated high school and was no longer eligible to play in the league, I coached the team instead. Our team was very good. It consisted of the three friends who were outstanding players, three or four average players and....Duane.

Because it was church ball, we invited and encouraged all that wanted to play to join us. Duane was a skinny kid with unkempt hair and no coordination. He had some mental problems which resulted in him being an outcast in most social situations, so we all tried to include him and let him be part of our group. He had an ear to ear smile when he was with 'the guys'. As a coach, I had made a deal with Duane that he could play a guaranteed two minutes each half. That was plenty for him and it didn't get in the way of our 'serious play'.

That year, our team was especially successful. We made it through the state tournament with little challenge from the other teams. When we got to the regional tournament, we met our equals and each game was more difficult than the last. It wasn't easy, but we made it to the championship game against a team from Memphis. As we neared the end of the fourth quarter, the game was switching leads with every basket. With just a couple of minutes left in regulation, I felt a tug on my sleeve. I turned to see it was Duane. "Randy," he said sheepishly, "I haven't got to play my two minutes this half." My mind reeled with the possible results of letting him play. The other team would surely take advantage of him. It wouldn't be fair to subject him to that treatment, would it? But honestly my resistance was the chance it could jeopardize the game.

"I'm sorry Duane," I replied while keeping my eye on the game in progress, "The game is too close, we could win the championship!"

"I understand, Randy. It's ok" is all he said.

It's been thirty years since that game. Believe it or not, I don't remember if we won the game. I don't remember where we ate after the game, I don't remember the car I was driving. All those unimportant memories have faded, but I do remember one thing: I didn't let Duane play.

I didn't see Duane much after that year. The team and the game had been his chance to be part of something big, and I had let him down.

It's always a challenge in life to know what's really important and what's seemingly important; what's important in the moment and what's important in the long run.

If we could teach our kids (and ourselves) anything, it would be to make decisions that will make the long term difference and not focus on the immediate reward.