6ixth Man at NBC Camp UK…ARRIVAL

Spent all day traveling on Saturday to arrive in Manchester, England this morning. That means I hardly slept on the plane because 6’5″ doesn’t sleep so well on planes. But ready or not, wheels touched down and camp begins tomorrow. Jet lag is very lame in case you didn’t know. But other things that happend today were far from it such as playing with Steve and Rachel’s two-week old baby Maisy and their 3 1/2 year old Amber who asked me if Mickey Mouse would visit my house more if he knew the way to Rancho Cucamonga, California.

I think that arriving some place…any place…opens unforseen floodgates of thoughts and feelings coursing just beneath the drone of busy life. I say this because when I landed in the UK this time I felt a guilt trip coming on kind of like the sore throat you confirm by swallowing repeatedly. That’s the one where you force yourself to swallow continuously hoping that it will stop hurting and you won’t actually get the other symptoms. The guilt trip was about where I’ve been and more importantly where I haven’t been. We landed and I was barraged with self-criticism about not being in a third world nation to run a camp there. “Why aren’t you in Africa or South America running a camp?” I felt guilty for being in an English speaking country where there’s no threat of Malaria. I felt like something or someone was whispering in my ear that I missed the drop zone and am preparing to run a camp in a place that doesn’t need quality, character driven basketball coaching. But that’s a big fat lie just like most of the strange voices we hear and don’t tell others we’re hearing.

Nevertheless, so far I’ve dealt with it by promising I’ll jump all the way in during these two weeks. If I can serve the leaders here, exhaust myself for opportunities to instruct and encourage staff and athletes alike then I can likely see why I’ve ended up in Great Britain in 2010. And I need to know the answer because the voices keep on indicting. I make up arguments in which people tell me I’ve run from black kids and only train suburban kids who can sell my product. The counter argument defends with the notion that I’ll train and influence who God puts in the way. And the two voices engage like back alley fistacuffs. Anyway, that’s how I felt today. Tomorrow it’s a wake up call at half six (6:30 a.m.) then off to the Isle of MAN.