Contrary to what I think is popular belief, most people love past glory. One contemporary maxim goes, “The older I get, the better I was” and it evokes courtesy laughter from most audiences when stated. Letting go of past success is the topic today and all topics are neutral until you start running your mouth about it right? So here we go.

Brett Favre played 16 seasons in Green Bay posting Hall of Fame numbers and cementing his legacy in the lore of the National Football League. Now he’s in his 18th season and plays for long-time rival turned gainful employer, the Minnesota Vikings. Favre has been at the vertex of sports talk with his flirtatious gestures toward retirement. He’s retired twice, I think, to be exact but at 39 years old, number #4 is still slinging that thing from under center.

Marvin Harrison is of similar interest for today’s post as he searches for a team following his release from the Indianapolis Colts. At 37 years old and with past injuries slowing him down, Harrison is currently not being pursued by any NFL teams. He’s the second leading receiver in the NFL all-time and set a record for catches in a single season in 2002. He’s made untold amounts of money as has Favre but neither that nor their ages is why I care.

You could insert seasoned veteran from any sport and arouse my concern on this issue. Why does John Smoltz (pitcher-St. Louis Cardinals) still pitch at 42 or Kurt Thomas (NBA-Spurs) play at 37 in a high impact sport like basketball? It’s the laurels that haunt us and the glorious past that afflicts our future.

Sports, TV, Music…they all have pretense to them as a matter of fact. I’d likely struggle with the some identity issues if I were in the spotlight. How does one stop doing what they’ve always done if what they’ve done is how they’ve always defined “Who they are”? Nobody wants to retire anymore. No one wants to promote to the next phase of life because of fear that an identity will be lost. But the truth is that when you divest yourself by passionately using your divine gifts, the work done is not only indisputable; it is etched in history. The apparitions of your heyday can stifle everything that lies ahead if you let it. Somebody tell Brett Favre he’s not old and that he’s more than a football player.

We’re more patient then we think and here’s why I say so. Have you ever considered that it has taken you all these years just to get to where you are today? I’ve waited 33 years to be an aspiring entrepreneur, writer, basketball coach, teacher, husband of decent repute, etc. You are what you’ve waited patiently to become whether you know it or not.

It’s tough to argue the contrary, that we haven’t waited patiently, because 10 years ago you were ignorant of today’s outcome and probably would not have scripted it as it has transpired. You weren’t consciously waiting on what has happened up to this point but something in you was. Do you even remember who or where you were just ten years ago? I was just off of a life-changing trip to the Philippines where I tried out for a team in the Philippine Basketball Association (professional basketball in the South Pacific). I used all of my vacation time that year for this one trip in efforts of playing basketball for a living. But I didn’t know in July of 1999 that I would apply to Fuller Theological Seminary one month later, get accepted and train in biblical studies for the next 2 1/2 years. I didn’t know, in 1999, that I would finish a Master’s Degree in 2002, part ways with two of the friends who attended the graduation that year along with a fiancee or that I could combine the passion for basketball with exegeting scripture.

I always assumed that to wait patiently meant you knew what you were waiting for but that’s seldom the case. The only thing I knew on the plane ride home from the Philippines was that I felt basketball was a done deal, which as it turns out, was far from the truth. Grad school led to an introduction to full-time church service characterized by my own management of intrapersonal struggles that should have eliminated me from my post. Full-time ministry continued but changed forms as I became I teacher at the college and high school levels. But since becoming a teacher, the thing I loved most in 1999 has been given back to me. Language, service, basketball and most importantly, the daily inspiration of my faith in Jesus Christ have combined. For me, that’s what I was waiting so long for but couldn’t put it into words. Just bein’ real…So it seems that the virtue of patience is not exhibited in anticipation for an event to occur as much as it is demonstrated because you have hope that your multiple intelligences, gifts and passions will be deployed. You’re not patiently waiting for your dream to be realized anymore than kids wait patiently the night before their birthdays. No one is patient about that. But as the years pass and have passed you’re probably holding on to the hope that who you really are can one day be appreciated and put to use in this world. The opportunity to be “you” in a capacity that truly fulfills is already at hand. Now add proactivity to patience and God will use you what enlivens you to effect change in your world.

By now any of you reading have figured out that I learned a great number of hard lessons by way of basketball or not playing basketball. I’ll explain. For me, the sport was and is a metaphor with infinitesimal applications and one of the most pronounced lessons I’ve learned in 33+ years is concerning truth.

As a child you’re punished for lying and told that liars are good for nothing. That is, unless you’re raised by criminals. And we all know about the noble exceptions where you lie to protect the innocent (i.e. the Jews during the Holocaust or slaves of the Underground Railroad). Nevertheless, playing basketball and watching it from the bench taught me about truth because there’s an unavoidable reality in which 99% of the population lives.

From probably 1989 – 2005 high school, college and professional basketball pursuits revealed the truth about myself and the realm of competition.

Concerning myself I discovered that I’m:

• Driven but prone to distraction
• Falsely compliant and subject to harbor bitterness when my expectations aren’t met
• Not a fan of confrontation and would rather let events run their natural course
• Overrun by shame when I think people hold negative opinions of me

Concerning the realm of competition I discovered that:

• I don’t have it in me to cheat to even the playing field.
• As a rule, the American brand of athletics breeds arrogance and will poison you if you’re oblivious.
• Ruthlessness is heralded and sportsmanship’s definition changes like the wind.
• Obsession with winning can make two first cousins nearly get into a fist fight.(I’ve seen it with my own eyes.)
• The purest form of competition is between three “yous”…You yesterday, You today and You tomorrow.

Between the ages of 13 and 17 I ran around with a fun group of basketball junkies who exposed me to the rigors of competing. They were all older than I was and from wiffle ball to 1 a.m., 2-on-2 full-court basketball I learned the truth – that in this world you will lose often and be derided because of it. Win and it is your American right to boast and taunt. I always appreciated hanging out with those guys late at night during the summers of my adolescence but it was years later that I realized that I didn’t need to beat these older players. At least not when I was 13.

I needed to see myself truthfully for what and who I was – a novice athlete looking for validation. Everything in basketball always amounted simply to attempts at validation. I wanted to be valid, sound and just. I saw an image of a basketball player and made myself the ruler of my life,  hell-bent on forcing an outcome. I wanted to be valid, sound and just as one and only one thing. That is the truth I learned. As God would have it, the same way I was punished as a child for lying is the way that life was so completely unfulfilled until I told the truth about myself, my purpose and the no-so-significant onlookers. Truth is, there’s only one audience when we compete and He is validation. Now the hard part is not telling the truth about me but more importantly getting the world to do what I’ve had to en route to self-awareness that will take the sting out of false competition.

I asked some teen athletes today how they’d handle the situation described in yesterday’s blog post concerning Caster Semenya. She’s the newly crowned South African 800 World Champion suspected to possibly be…a “he”. Semenya is undergoing gender testing to confirm that she is indeed a female eligible for competition in an all-female sport.

There were two boys and two girls training today and the question posed to them was, “If you were(are) a girl, a world champion runner and suspected of being a male, would you accept a mandate to undergo a gender test and its humiliation or forfeit your medal?” Three of the athletes answered that they would ditch the pride and accept the testing because it’s not worth it to lose what they’ve worked so hard for due to stupid pride. Point taken. The one dissenting opinion said he wouldn’t accept the gender test. He said, essentially, “If I was her [Semenya] I wouldn’t take the gender test because I know who I am. The medal doesn’t make me a champion.  I’m a girl and I’m a champion with or without the medal.” That was from a 16-year old.

Daaaaaang. I was thinking man, we need to ask young people provocative questions more often. Both perspectives were extremely valuable and indicative of the kind of character we want replicated in athletes. The prevailing and operative principle I saw in their comments was that “Champion” is an earned, but intangible quality. It transcends what governing bodies have to do in the interest of fairness. But while nothing can take away the satisfaction of being the most dominant athlete in your sport, the opportunity to earn a living can be taken away. So consider the next question. If you’re Semenya’s family do you negotiate the hoops to keep yourself in competition and perhaps launch yourself into a stardom that could change the financial infrastructure of the ones you love? Or, do you stick to your guns and risk having your financial ship sail into the night?

Imagine you’re a girl who plays rough with the boys and grows up to be a track-and-field world champion. You’ve been teased most of your life for looking and sounding like a boy. Now also imagine that your affinity for competition coupled with your masculine features captures the attention of the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF). They want to test your gender to see if you are really a woman or a man.

Caster Semenya of South Africa is not imagining but rather experiencing this and the story lends itself to a vast range of questions concerning the integrity of sport. But to the point, and possibly one of many larger principles, Semenya must ask herself what’s more important, standing up against accusations that she is male or allowing the testing by the IAAF to maintain what she has worked so hard to obtain.

If you want to know what someone thinks, force them to choose between something they desperately want and pride. Semenya’s dilemma is not unlike the student who is accused of cheating on a research paper because he doesn’t USUALLY do work this fine. Or take the athlete labeled “lucky” because he/she has posted team leading statistics for the first time in their career. Have you seen the volitile reactions of the accused? And rightfully so given the upsetting nature of false allegations. But don’t you know that skeptics run rampant in the world, especially the world of sports? What is most important is that you weather skepticism. Are you who you say you are? Answer yes and there’s no need for prideful protests based on principle. The only statement an athlete needs to make has been made already by the habits and outcomes related to your character and performance.

The IAAF has a right to be skeptical in this age of rationalized cheating in sports. But when your integrity is questioned, dispel the fraudulent claims by being who you’ve always been. Truth is its own protest.