What's Earned is What's Owed

     I like when my perspective of something falls short of it's truth.  I like being reminded that my assumptions about  anything contribute to it's decay, if they're wrong. Mostly, I appreciate being reminded of both.  The beliefs I hold aren't inherently 'right' because I hold them, no matter the degree of conviction.  When I adhere to them too tightly, I deprive myself of connection. 

  I knew a lot of the boys before they arrived

 for summer workouts.  I had them all figured out. 

My perspective of each, and my assumption of them all,

 shaped my interactions,

and continued to until our second game. 

 That was our game against Archbishop Mitty, and our only loss.

I was aware, after that game, I'd been wrong.  There wasn't a single individual who thought he was above the others.  There wasn't anyone blaming anybody else.  There wasn't anyone disfigured by the loss.  This group of boys wasn't looking for excuses to hide behind.  And they were still a team. They had more maturity than I'd given them credit for, and they wanted to be accountable.  They didn't feel let down by one of their team mates.  You could see it on their faces.  You could hear it in their silence.  Each of them was willing to shoulder the burden as if they were the one who had brought it on. 

When you see something like that, you pay attention. You  refrain from unsolicited instruction, or explanations, because it's already whole.  The stillness that stood around it was a group acknowledgement that they all had more they could have given.  And it was their agreement not to let it happen again. 

I've been thinking of something ever since.

There are boys on this team  with uncommon physical talent.  There are dozens of them, not just the two, or three, you expect.  There are a dozen more just starting to claim theirs. There are boys

on this team who possess genuine humility.  And there are undeniable leaders who have never said a word, boys who make their statement with their effort, and hold it to yours, when yours slips.  They're are boys who admit their fears, just before they turn, and run toward them.  There are boys here, who want their turn at being men.

When I look at this group I don't see football players.  I see the next community of men.  I see who I want as Husbands, and as Fathers.  I see who I trust to model what's  right, and what's good, to those raging against it.  I see who I want as leaders in my community, and who I want as a friend. 

Consider this....

• The JV football team took a vested interest in our team, when their predictions of a losing season were wrong.  They weren't watching, so much as studying.  The JV players usually aren't far off when evaluating an opponent, but they missed completely with us.  Whatever slipped passed them wasn't able to be seen, so they watched until they saw it emerge. 
• Varsity paid a similar respect.  Individuals participated in our practices, and helped with observations, and advice.  They demanded detailed accounts on how he played, or him, and him.  Varsity players don't invest in freshmen, period.  Unless the freshman are Rock stars, too.
• And I've been deeply affected.  This blog is my tribute to this team.

Remember: 

• Opportunities like this aren't common, and they rarely present themselves.  If it's put in front of you, take it.  
• Do the work required to develop the talent.  If you don't, you'll fall to those who do.
• Get honest with yourself about what you are willing to do, and what you are capable of doing.  It's alright to choose not to.  It's the difference between those who fall within what's ordinary, and those who soar above it.  You have to be an uncommon man to do uncommon things.  Before you make your choice, remember this:  Every player on our Freshman team was vital to our success, and whether it's coincidence or not, you are all here, together.  And this group didn't have to seek an opportunity to be known, it was delivered

7 year-old brain cancer patient with Nebraska: WATCH!!

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Which leads me to what's been brewing since Archbishop Mitty.  The only way to truly appreciate your talent, and ability, is helping someone at the other end of the spectrum.  We've talked about a 'responsibility to talent'. 

It's not entrusted to everyone, so if you have it you have an obligation to develop it.  That obligation comes with the opportunity to rise, and lead.    Your job IS to get to the mountain top, but not just for you.  When you get there you need to reach down, and help those who could never get there on their own, and pull them up.

You will always be at risk of taking your gifts for granted if you feel you were entitled to them, or that you earned them.  If you want to truly appreciate them, start spending time helping those without even the most simple ability, like walking.

Then ask yourself if that's what he was entitled to.

Ask yourself what it would be like to be left out of every activity that's provided you your best moments, and ask yourself if you could do anything to help.

Ask yourself if you'd like to help someone know how you feel  on the field, in front of a crowd and ask if you can provide that.  Ask yourself how grateful you'd be for your ability, and how hard you'll run now, now that you're running for two,  And ask yourself what is more rewarding, winning a game, or helping someone feel acknowledged, and human.

Understand?

Then, when you've answered those questions, go do it...

Ww