Grateful

Kicking off the season vs. App. State with Walker & Tanner

I'm so grateful.  I'm so grateful we got to experience this ride.  I mean it.  I guess I'm sad today.  I certainly am, but I'm mostly grateful.  I don't feel a lot of pain and heartache, because I don't think this was a one-off.  You never know, though.  There are no guarantees we'll ever make it back, but it didn't feel like our only shot.  It felt like the beginning.  And we'll likely play those guys in 11 months back in the same building with the SEC on the line.

I'm grateful to be a Dawg.  I mean this sincerely.  I'm biased, but, man, we've got a great fan base.  And, this is just the honest truth, we appreciated this year more than most.  I'm not sure FSU fans in the '90s, USC fans in the early 2000's or Bama Fans in the 2010's really appreciate the winning.  But we're just grateful.  What a ride and what a run.  There are a lot of teams - a lot - who have no idea what a run like this feels like. The run was immensely fun, and it gave me was a lifetime of memories. 

With Morgan at Notre Dame

This season gave me an excuse to take a trip to Chicago with my 13 year old.  We saw the city, I got to hear one of my heroes preach (Bill Hybels) and we beat Notre Dame, kick-starting a season for the ages.

All of us in Jacksonville!

We took the whole family to Jacksonville for us to all see us (finally) beat Florida.  We played on the beach and ate seafood in late October. 

With Brooks watching Nick and Sony's last game in Sanford Stadium

We traveled all across the Southeast.  I took each of my four sons to at least one road game.  We had long drives in the car together, meals by ourselves and new adventures as father and son.  We hugged after Touchdowns and Interceptions.  They dressed up as their favorite players and ate cotton candy. 

Tanner and I took the only long drive home from the Plains, knowing we'd get our shot at redemption against someone in Atlanta.  We did, against those same guys.

With Walk-man at Tech

After Thanksgiving, it was magical enough.  11-1 and we beat most of our rivals...badly.  We had eaten a lot of good food and shared a lot of good laughs.  It was just beginning.

Me & my friend, Chase, at the SEC Championship Game in his hat that has never lost to Auburn

We vanquished our only loss of the season and earned a trip to the playoff.  12-1 and SEC champs.  I had been to every game but Tennessee.  Would there be one or two more? 

My boys at Christmas with their Clemson cousins, Parker & Mason

Christmas at my parent's house was like never before.  My brother's family is all Clemson Tigers.  We were both in the playoffs.  Would we meet in the natty?  There was a lot of ribbing and trash talking. But we were all happy to be along for the ride. 

Emily & I with our good friends, Jana & Buck, after the Rose Bowl

L.A.  Tinsel Town.  Hollywood.  Beverly Hills.  Venice Beach.  Malibu.  Santa Monica.  And a little Vegas.  Emily and I did it all.  It was the first time she and I had been away together for that long in a decade.  We'll never forget it.  When Sony scored we hugged and yelled and cried.  I'm certain it was one of the top 10 happiest moments of my life.

Morgan & I with some of our crew, Heather, Ben & Mark...with the trophy we were oh so close to getting.

My son, Morgan, saved all his Christmas money from family to help buy his ticket to the National Championship Game.  We spent all day together.  We hugged and cheered screamed our guts out.  We lost on the last play of the college football season to the best program (maybe ever) in the last 15 years.  How can I be sad?

Saturdays (and a couple of Mondays) afforded me time with family that nothing else comes close to.  We have little control over the outcome, despite our best efforts at loud screaming and wearing lucky hats.  I wore a tie yesterday because it was an important occasion, but mostly because it was my Daddy's Bulldog tie.  It's probably older than me.  Because my daddy was there with me.

Some people will wallow in misery over this.  They will say this was the most Atlanta thing ever or the most Georgia thing ever.  Some will say they'll never get over it.  I don't get that.  What's to wallow in?  It's so, so, so very difficult to get here.  Enjoy it.  And if you care for a little football perspective -- we've got a fantastic young coach and more talent coming in than we've ever had.  This won't be the last time.  Trust me, depressing is driving home from the Liberty Bowl after losing to UCF to finish 6-7.  This wasn't depressing.

Others will wonder what's the big deal.  The big deal is that we did this together.  I saw friends from college in Chicago and Los Angeles.  I took a trip with my wife.  I spent Saturdays with my boys.  I was part of something bigger than myself.  It connected me with something deep in my soul.

Sistee, my brother, Courtney, Jim, me, Mama & Daddy

Georgia Football, has been a family thing for me for a long time.  Jim & Sistee Williams got us hooked.  I cheered for Tim Worley & Rodney Hampton the way my boys have for Todd Gurley, Nick Chubb & Sony Michel.  We are linked by generations of silver britches.

Don't be sad, Bulldog Nation.  Be grateful. 

And Dawgs...Keep Chopping.  That tree is coming down one day soon.

Sports

Kris Jenkins wins it for Villanova at the buzzer.

Sunday marked one month since the Super Bowl, and Monday I finally emerged from under my sports rock.  Since late in the night on February 5, I gave myself a one month ban on sports talk radio and barely watched ESPN except to catch a UGA or UNC basketball game.  I needed to create some separation for myself.  I didn't want to hear about, read about or talk about the improbable comeback.  I'm happy to hear the conversation is now much more about pitchers and catchers.  It's March.  Hope springs eternal for my Braves.

I've had a rough year in sports.  It all started in Houston, but not in the Super Bowl.  It started in at the Final Four at NRG Stadium. My wife is a UNC fan, and we're pretty big Tar Heel Basketball fans.  The stars were aligning last march for the Heels' third National Championship under Roy Williams.  Preseason #1.  Regular season ACC Champs.  ACC Tournament Champs.  And they'd made it to the National Championship, and even hit an improbable 3-pointer to tie it up.  Then Kris Jenkins happened, and Villanova won the greatest NCAA tournament championship ever.

Surely it would get better in the Fall.  My Dawgs had a new coach, started the season with a resounding win in the Chick-fil-a Kickoff vs. UNC (can you say house divided?), featuring our star player's (Nick Chubb) improbable comeback from injury, and thrilling last minute win at Mizzou at the hand of our rising star, freshman QB Jacob Eason.  Against undefeated Tennessee at home, we'd played our best game of the season, trailed late and made a miracle play with 10 seconds left to seemingly secure the biggest home win in several years.  It would be a huge moment for our rookie coach and rookie QB, who had made the (almost) winning pass.  Then the unthinkable happened.

Jauan Jennings makes the game winning catch.

But the Falcons were rolling through the season.  Midway through the year I thought we looked like a Super Bowl contender.  Indeed, we were.  Matt Ryan was the best player in the league, except maybe for his teammate, Julio Jones.  The offense was unstoppable and the defense was maturing.  The playoffs became the ride of the lifetime, and at halftime of the Super Bowl, I couldn't hardly believe my eyes.  We were going to win the Super Bowl.  The loss to 'Nova stung.  The Hail Mary that derailed our season still hurt.  This would give me some momentary sports joy.  Would I get the red, black or gray Super Bowl Champion shirt?  Maybe one of each, or one short sleeve and one long sleeve.  And a hat.  And a pennant for the basement.  And you know what happened.

James White scores the game winning TD in Overtime

In the stadium where the season of my sports discontent started, it ended.  I'd seen my favorites lose the greatest NCAA championship game ever, one of the greatest SEC games ever (Two 40+ yd TD passes in 10 seconds), and the greatest Super Bowl ever (the only one to ever go to overtime.)  I needed a break.

But I can't just give up on sports.  Hope springs eternal, and there are too many lessons.  During my hiatus from sports talk, my boys' basketball seasons marched on.  My youngest was in an instructional league for Kindergarten and 1st graders.  They didn't keep score.  At that age, the kids there were super aggressive kind of took over.  Nothing wrong with that.  The kids were trying to make plays and really got after it on defense.  It was hard for some kids to even get a shot off all season.  In the last couple of games, the referee cleared a path for a few kids who hadn't been able to score all year to get some clear shots.  They were ecstatic when they'd finally made one.  They beamed the whole way back down the court.  That is what sports have really been about in my life.

Sports build confidence and character like few things I know of.  They teach us to keep fighting and working hard.  They teach discipline and effort.  They teach us to respect leaders.  They teach unselfishness.  They teach teamwork.  Few things have shaped my work life and adult life the way sports did.

They also teach dealing with disappointment.  In the movie Fever Pitch, Jimmy Fallon's character, Ben, describes his affection for his beloved Red Sox and their success this way:  "I like being part of something that's bigger than me...It's good for your soul to invest in something you can't control."  And guess what?  Much of our lives we can't control, and we have to learn to get back up and move on when we're disappointed.  Even being a real fan can be positive.  Can we learn to stick with a team or organization through highs and lows or will we be a front-runner fan?  That teaches us something about commitment and relationships.  People will disappoint us.  Will we stick with them?  And isn't success sweeter when we stuck with them for the long haul?

I love art -- music, movies, artwork.  But someone decides what they look like and how they end up.  The artists controls what they create with the skills they spent a lifetime honing.  But sports are unpredictable.  We have no idea what will happen when the game begins, and how hard you worked doesn't always mean you get the results you want, and sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes the ball bounces the wrong way, and sometimes one decision changes the course of the game, and sometimes your preparation meets the perfect opportunity, and sometimes you have to play again after being incredibly disappointed, and sometimes you celebrate a win only to realize there's another game.  Ain't that life?

And the greatest thing about it?  There's always next year, and in your life, there's always tomorrow.  After all, the Heels are looking like they could make another run, the Dawgs are about to start spring practice, and the Braves look like a young, hungry team.  Don't talk to me about NFL free agency.  I'm not ready for the NFL yet.  

I'm still not over it.

At least I'm not a Warriors or Indians fan.  

Sunday Preview & Thought for the Week (9.29.16)

Hey Church!

I hope you've had a 'complaint free' week...or you're at least getting better.  What an awesome word from God these past few weeks to think about what we're thinking about saying.  This Sunday, we're beginning a brand new, three-week series called "Sorry Not Sorry."  We're going to look at what repentance is all about.  That's not exactly something we talk about in everyday life, but it's crucial to a life of faith, and when we understand it, our lives will truly be changed.  Hope to see you there!

Thought for the Week
"For we conclude that a man is justified by faith apart from the works of the law."  Romans 3:28

I saw a picture today of some of the decorated swimmers from the Rio Olympics getting to visit the White House and meet the President.  What a thrill that must be for those accomplished Olympians!  Isn't that the way our system works?  Win a medal or championship and the athletes get to meet the President.  Get elected student council president and get access to the principal.  Make the most sales and get lunch w/ the CEO.  Achievement gets us access to those higher up on the totem poll.  That's kind of the American way, and it seeps into our thinking on faith.  We 'think' that our good deeds, our works, and our accomplishments will get us before God.  He'll be so proud.  But that's not how it works.  It's not about our achievements.  We are able to stand before God because of faith in Christ.  Faith that Christ died for us.  Faith that Christ rose again.  Faith that, through grace, our sin was defeated on the cross.  Not by what we have done -- but by what Jesus has done.  And guess what, God couldn't be any more prouder of you already.  You are made in His image.  Your accomplishments don't make Him love you more because He couldn't possibly.  We certainly ought to strive for good works because they are pleasing to God, but don't buy the lie that you need to keep doing good to get on God's good side or get access to Him and His love.  That's only done by faith.

Because of Jesus,

Carter

Justin Spieth and the Art of Losing

We had Sunday evening worship, but I had set my DVR.  I was looking forward to watching the final round of the Master's to close out the weekend Sunday night.  As I saw what was happening scroll across my Twitter feed and as I kept updating the leader board, I knew it would be hard to watch.  I'm no huge golf fan, but I appreciate the majors.  It's when all the stars play, and it offers the highest pressure.  You become a legend at the majors.

Justin Spieth, the reigning Master's champion failed under the pressure Sunday.  It was hard to watch, especially knowing what was coming.  He's only 22.  I felt for him.  He's closer to my son's age than he is to mine.  He is already a two-time major champion, but he experienced what will probably be the most painful loss of his career on Sunday.  Very rarely do you have it in hand and lose it so dramatically.  And what we found is that he is also a champion in the Art of Losing.

Don't get me wrong.  I hate losing.  Hate it.  H-A-T-E it.  Not everyone hates losing, but no one really likes it.  When you're three, you learn quickly to not like it when you don't get your way.  This is your introduction to losing.  Most three year-olds don't handle it well.

And this isn't to say that we ought to become good losers who don't care about winning.  It's absurd to think that handling losing with grace and class means you're a good loser and no longer able to compete.  But all of us have to decide if we are going to master the Art of Losing.  Spieth's post-match interview was awe-inspiring.  He was somber but gracious.  He was hurt but already healing.  I'm impressed by a 22 year-old golfer who took a devastating defeat in stride.  Disappointed, yes...but in stride.  Here's why this is so important -- it won't be his last loss.

Life is losing.  You are constantly losing something:

• Every one of us is losing our youth, daily.
• Parents are slowly losing control and influence over their growing children.
• As we age we are losing our ability to be hired or ability to earn income.
• Sometimes we lose jobs.
• We will all lose loved ones to death.
• We lose relationships and routines when moving.

Yes, life is full of beautiful and joyous victories (like sports) and humbling losses (like sports).  If you do it long enough, you can't avoid the losses.  And we all know people that have handled aging, retirement, becoming empty nesters, death of loved ones and change poorly.  That usually means we haven't masters the Art of Losing.  The Art of Losing really is just about maturity.  It's the realization that I don't always get my way and things don't always go how I predicted or wanted them to go.  I just don't always win.

And this matters greatly in our walk with God.  Jesus said, "For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it" (Matthew 16:15).  If you can't handling losing, you're going to have a hard time following Jesus.  Something tells me Spieth will do alright aging, retiring and dealing with the losses that come with life.  How will we handle it when God asks us to lose for God's purposes?

Mark Richt & the Conundrum of the Christian Bulldog Fan

145-51.  That's Mark Richt's wins and losses, and I was there for all 51 of those losses.  In the stadium, making the death march to the truck afterward.  From the inexplicable red zone misses against South Carolina in '01 to the walk down Duval St. in Jacksonville this past Halloween night.  And the last one felt different.  I've missed 9 games that Mark Richt coached my beloved Bulldogs, but I was there for every loss (maybe it's my fault -- we always won when I missed!).  What a ride it was these last 15 years.  The Hobnail Boot in '01 and the run to an SEC title that followed a year later, finally clinching the division with the miracle on the Plains.  Finally defeating Florida in '04 and DJ's title in '05.  The miracle finish in the arm of a young Stafford in '06 and the Celebration in '07 in Jacksonville that lit the team on fire for the rest of the season.  Running this state in '09 and winning 10 striaght in '11.  The magical season in '12 including winning the toughest game I've ever seen us win at the Cocktail Party vs. the #2 Gators.  The '13 victory over LSU with Sanford as electric as I've ever seen it and the emergence of this kid from Cedartown in '14.

I saw brutal losses, too.  I don't care to mention them.  I'm trying to forget!  I always believed, though, that we'd be alright.  I gotta admit -- Halloween felt different.

Maybe I see this differently because I'm an old dawg.  I saw Herschel play his last game in Athens in '82, and I remember hearing that Coach Dooley had retired.  I was glued to the TV watching him coach us for the final time in the Gator Bowl.  I remember hearing on ESPN that Goff had been fired in '95 (even though I worked for the team then).  I remember learning that Donnan was out in 2000.  I remember the feeling walking out of Everbank Field in Jacksonville and thinking that this felt different than the previous 50 losses.  I thought I might have just witnessed the end.  I was born into Red and Black and I'll be buried in it.  And it won't much matter who the coach is -- I'll be cheering for him to win.

I want to say something to the Bulldog Nation:  take a deep breath.  I love Mark Richt.  If you don't love who he is and what he's done, well, you don't know much about people, life or football.  We won way more in the last 15 years than we lost, and way more than we had won in the previous 15.  But, Georgia Football is bigger than Mark Richt.  It's been around since 1892, and I've got pictures of Trippi and Sinkwich in my basement from the 1940s.  It'll be around after he's gone.

Mark Richt presents the Christian Bulldog fan with a conundrum.  He's a man of deep faith who truly lives it, which makes him all the more rootable.  We believe him when he says he loves a kid.  He shows it.  Any Christ Follower that is a Dawg fan wants to see him win.  Even opposing fans have to admit he's a great guy.  They even want to see him succeed when he's not playing their team.  He's molding young men, graduating players, running a clean program and impacting players even beyond graduation.  He has integrity and class.  It's about than football for him.  And it makes the Christian UGA fan proud because OUR program is about more than football.  No one wants to see a guy like that get fired.  I wanted to see him get one more year with a stellar recruiting class and a healthy Nick Chubb.  I thought he could win big next year.  But others thought otherwise, and a change was made.

I've seen comments today that of being "ashamed of my alma mater" or "we thought it was about more than football" and "looks like winning is all that matters."  Of course it's about more than football, but IT IS about football, mostly, right?  I mean, listen, I adore Mark Richt, but let's don't pretend he's the only coach impacting lives and molding young men.  Dabo Swinney is doing it.  Mark Dantonio is doing it.  David Shaw is doing it.  And they're winning big while doing it.  And there are plenty of other guys out there who can do it.  Listen, I don't think UGA will be hiring Bobby Petrino anytime soon.  That's not the Georgia Way.  I don't think this is about winning at all cost, but it is about winning more.  I'm all for winning more.  Now, that's a tall task, and we might just win less....but maybe not.  It's a gamble, a risk.  That's sports.

But you don't have to pick a side here.  Love Mark Richt.  Appreciate him, thank him.  He has loved UGA, and we have loved him.  Then love the next guy and cheer like crazy for him.  You're not changing the Athletic Department's mind because you're mad or disagree.  And you're not really making any friends by taking pleasure in the dismissal of such a fine man.  But I can tell you this:  I hope we go 15-0 next year. I hope we become the first team to have a coach win the national championship in his first year.  And if you bleed Red and Black, don't you hope the same?  Nick Chubb will be out there along with Terry Godwin, Dominick Sanders, Isaiah McKenzie and Sony Michel.  Lorenzo Carter and Trenton Thompson will be out there along with Jeb Blazevich. I think I'll cheer for them, no matter who their coach is -- because they chose to attend the school that I did, and I love them for it.

And when we shock the world, I hope Richt gets a little credit for helping build it.  Should he coach somewhere else, I'll be cheering hard for him because he's a great man who did so much while in Athens.  But there won't be a question who I'm pulling for if he ever plays us.  UGA made me a Mark Richt fan, not the other way around.

And can I close to say something?  We don't know what the next guy will do until we see him do it or not do it, so can we give him a chance to do it?  Kirby Smart might be the next Will Muschamp, but he might be the next Bob Stoops, who was also a DC who got his first head coaching job at Oklahoma.  Tom Herman might be the next Urban Meyer, but he might be the next Tommy Bowden.  We just don't know.  He might even be the next Mark Richt, and you could be called a lot worse.  None of us are happy about this.  A fine man lost his job.  Can we be sad and hopeful at the same time?  Yes.  You don't have to pick sides, Christian Dawg fans.  You can love Jesus, love Mark Richt, love UGA and cheer your guts out for the next guy, too.

Why it matters and why it doesn't

A few months ago, during the long dog days of summer in which college football fans like me wait for the season to begin while munching on every morsel of football news emanating from their beloved program, I caught a replay of the movie Fever Pitch on TV.  I'd seen it a couple of times.  I relate to it because my passion for college football mirrors the passion for the Red Sox portrayed in the movie.  In a pivotal scene, Ben is trying to explain why this is so important to him.  He has been attending Red Sox games since he first went with his uncle twenty-three years ago at the age of seven.  The crowd he sits around has become his family.  His friends jockey for the games they get to go to.  She's been to a few games, but she still doesn't get it.  He asks Lindsey a question:  "Do you still care about anything you cared about 23 years ago?"

One question explains the power of sports.  I suppose for others this could be movies or music (both of which I love as well), but for me, that passion has been college football.  I am enthralled by the atmosphere and nostalgia of it.  In high school you play for your school because you are zoned for it.  In the NFL you play for the team that picks you and chooses to employ you.  A college roster is filled with 100 guys who chose the school, and the stands are filled with alumni who also chose the school and local fans who grew up cheering for the hometown team.  They are still kids, but they are remarkably gifted athletically.

Each school has a fight and strange traditions.  In the SEC, most of the uniforms even still look the same as they did in the '60's and '70's.  This is why I love going to the games.  The bands, the colors, the pageantry, the tailgating...the electricity in the air.  And every time I walk into a stadium, I am flooded with memories of yesteryear.  I am reminded of the drive down Hwy. 106 from Carnesville to Athens coming from South Carolina.  I'm reminded of sitting with my parents and hugging strangers after a big win.  I'm reminded of my hand in my Daddy's back pocket walking through the crowd, so I wouldn't get lost.  I'm reminded of pre-game battles of touch football.  I'm reminded of eating BBQ chicken and 'talking football' with men 40 years older than me.  In the pregame, we were equal.  There is no age when you are worried about how healthy your tailback is or if the D can stop that passing offense they've got.  You are simply fans together.  And I hold these memories with my boys now.  I'm the dad, still caring about something I cared about 33 years ago when I saw Herschel Walker play live and in person.  My boys draw pictures of their favorite players like I drew mine.  And we celebrate with football friends that are like family and see the same faces around our seats, each of them amazed as they've watched my boys grow up with every passing September.  That's why it matters, because so few things in life matter beyond a few years.  We change jobs and houses.  We lose touch with friends and find new friends.  But we never change teams, and we share the same memories with our children that our parents shared with us.  It matters because it has always mattered, and besides our faith and our family, few things always matter in our lives.

But it doesn't matter THAT much.  I recently read an article about Greg McGarity's first five years as Athletics Director at the University of Georgia.  They asked him what was the most difficult moment in those five years.  I thought, "It had to be that Liberty Bowl loss to Central Florida, or the devastating loss to Alabama in the 2012 SEC Championship Game.  Or maybe it was when a string of players go arrested."  His answer was surprising, telling and humbling.  It was when Jonathan Taylor, an outfielder for the UGA baseball team, was paralyzed during a collision in which he and a teammate both dove for a ball.  Because that's the kind of stuff that matters.  These are just games.  They are supposed to be fun.  They should be fun.  They should be disappointing when you lose.  But they don't matter THAT much.  An athlete who can't walk ever again after giving his all while competing...THAT matters.

As another college football season draws near, let us remember (especially here in the Deep South), that the reason this matters so much really isn't about wins and losses.  It's the traditions, camaraderie and glory of it all that makes it matter each and every year, whether our team is champions or chumps that season.  And winning is fun, but it won't last.  There will still be bills to pay and life to live the next Monday.  It's a burst of joy, a few months of relief, but it's not life and death.  We'd trade a thousand wins for a kid to walk again.  Football and sports are about people and relationships.  They are about learning to compete and overcome adversity.  For those that are people of faith, this ought to be crystal clear, but when we are looking glasses tinted with our teams favorite color, sometimes it's easy to forget.

Enjoy the season!

Leadership & Life Lessons from My First (and Probably Only) Season of Coaching T-Ball

The Fightin' Super Tigers -- Champs!

I was going to help coach.  You know, be an assistant.  I had two boys that would be playing together.  One 4 and one 6, at the time.  But, I had two other sons playing flag football, and it was a busy season at church.  Then I got the call:  "We need one more head coach.  Would you be willing to coach?"  I love my community, so I begrudgingly agreed.  I really, really didn't have time for this.  And I'm a football guy.  I quit baseball after the 8th grade and most of my glory on the diamond happened in church softball leagues.  But I know enough to coach Kindergartners.  And I know a lot about kids.  So I did it.  We had a blast, gave ourselves a cool name (Fightin' Super Tigers), made a lot of new friends and good memories and won the league championship, with a 14-0 record.  I was so proud of our boys, and I learned a good deal about life, parenting, leadership and even a little about church.

• You can't change the past, so why rehash it.  Point to a better future.  T-ballers make mistakes all the time.  They throw it when they should hold it, hold it when they should throw it.  They run the wrong direction and tag the wrong runner.  After a mistake and play has stopped, if you yell at a T-baller, they're just going to cry.  The only thing you can do is point to them to the next opportunity.  "Hey, next time throw it here."  "Next time get your glove down."  "Next time, run to this base."  People are the same.  They don't need our judgment, but they do need people who care about the them to point toward a better future.  The church could learn something from this.  We need to stop yelling at the world for the mistakes it's made and point toward a better future with Jesus.  People need hope, not condemnation. 
• There are often a lot of voices telling us what to do.  Be sure and listen to the right ones.  People are screaming like crazy in the stands when a fielder has the ball in T-ball, telling them what to do with it.  About half of those are right.  Kids have to learn to trust their coach, which says a lot about authority but also listening to the right voices in life.  All of us have voices telling us a lot of things.  Not all of them are telling us to throw it in the right direction.  Who are the influences you're listening to?
• Every organization needs team members to play their role well.  My youngest wasn't crazy about playing right field and batting last, but he was very inexperienced and the smallest guy on the team.  There is only one circle (pitcher position) and only one kid can play it.  You have to have others do their part.  I heard one comment after we won the championship game that our outfield won the game because they got the ball in to the infield after every ball hit to them.  This is an accomplishment in T-ball.  But the 'role players' made the difference in the championship.
• Listen to experts and learn from them.  Like I said, I don't know much about baseball, but last year, we played on a T-Ball team that went 15-0 with one of the best coaches my boys have ever had.  He knew baseball and I came home after the 1st practice and said, "We're going to be pretty good."  I modeled our practices and gameday routine after him.
• Winning is fun and creates organizational momentum.  The bottom line is that winning is fun.  We went 14-0.  People say the kids don't care about winning, but after every game they were shouting "We won, we won, we won!"  They came up with this on their own.  We had fun anyway, and I've been a part of teams that had a lot of fun, kids got better and we didn't win a lot of games.  Winning isn't everything, especially at this age.  But, winning creates organizational momentum.  When staffs, businesses, teams, churches, or organizations don't ever feel like they are winning, it's hard to create momentum.  So, is your organization winning?
• People don't mind working hard if they they believe in the vision.  Our last week of the season, after a 2 1/2 month season, we had games on Monday, Thursday and Saturday in the end of year tournament.  I scheduled a practice on Friday night.  Nearly all the team showed up and I think it made the difference in the championship game.  We didn't play great that Thursday, and we needed to work to play better.  The vision was not to win.  The vision was to make sure we play our best.  That's all we can control.  We needed to practice to be our best.  Parents bought into the vision of excellence.
• Sometimes others have to step up.  We had games where kids were sick, injured our out of town and kids had to switch positions.  They did great.  Families, churches, businesses, and teams all have times others have to unexpectedly step up.  Nearly every game a kid who wasn't one of our biggest hitters got a key hit and got on base we needed to avoid an out.  If your organization has a mantra of "That's not my job," that's dangerous territory.  People have to step up and share responsibilities if an organization is going to be successful.
• People skills matter.  I don't know baseball, but I know how to motivate young people to be the best they can be.  I truly believe that in our culture today, you have to have people skills.  I am concerned about a generation that spends most of its time with a face in front of a screen.  Will they have the capacity to communicate with people in 10, 20, 30 years?  I hope so.  I believe people skills are the most important.  Love people, communicate with people, encourage people.  And people respond.
• There will be days you are not at your best.  Can you still compete on those days?  No one feels like a million bucks every day.  We had days when we didn't play our best, but we had to pick ourselves up and play as hard as we could.  Life has seasons we're not at our best.  Sometimes it's as simple as putting one step in front of the other.  You have to keep going.
• Running from third base to home is a dangerous trek.  As the pitcher to my team, I ran over two kids running home as I exited the field while looking down the first base line.  One of them was my older son on the team.  Both kids lived to tell about it.  
• My youngest led the league in hat and glove throwing while in the outfield.  I mean, he was a champion at glove throwing.  Best I've ever seen.  He had a blast this season.  And I'm pretty sure he would have had just as much fun if we'd have been 0-14.  Because he was coached by his dad and got to play ball.

                                               

                                                                Brooks, my youngest, the team clown.

It was a fun spring.  Sports teach us a lot of lessons.  And I've learned one more.  I think I'm going to retire from coaching and go out on top!

Right here, Daddy!

I am coaching T-ball this year.  My two youngest sons, 4 and 6, are on the team.  My six-year old is a pretty good ball player and can swing the bat pretty good.  My little one, Brooks, is a little fella and one of the youngest on the team.  He swings as hard as he can, which isn't very hard, but he hits it off the tee alright.

I pitch each player three pitches before they get two swings off the tee.  A couple of games ago, I hit Brooks.  He was none too happy.  The next game up, he was obsessed with me pitching it perfect -- right down the middle.  He basically stuck his bat out and said, "Pitch it right here."  It became more of a game of me trying to hit the bat rather than him trying to hit the ball.  I told him that he had to actually swing the bat himself and do some work.  He pointed and said, "Right here."

Isn't that the way we are with God?  Throw it right here, Father, right down broadway.  We don't want to have to swing.  We want God do to things juuuuust right in our lives so that it requires minimal effort on our part.  But we have to swing.  We have to take steps of faith.  We might have to practice.  We might have to swing and miss a few times.  We might even strike out.  God wants to give us opportunities, but we have to swing the bat.

Don't miss out on what God has in store because you're waiting for the perfect pitch.  Swing the bat at the pitch God has given you right now.  It won't be the last pitch.  Faith is swinging when we're not sure if we're going connect.  Faith is swinging after we missed the last time.  Faith is trusting that God will put the right ball in the right spot at the just the right time we need a home run.  You see, God believes in us.  Believes we can hit it.  Believes in who He created us to be.  God doesn't want to do it alone.  God wants to do it with us, in us and through us.  So swing away.  Trust me...God is a much better pitcher than me.