At the End of the Shot Clock

It is a blessing for me anytime I can compare basketball philosophy, particularly defensive grit, with New Testament writing.

On Sunday morning before church I was checking up on my beloved Panthers and the upcoming basketball season. I came across an article about the progress made early in the season, particularly among all the new faces in the program this year. In it I found this quote from head coach Ben Jacobson: "I've liked everything up to the point where we get a little bit tired," he explained. We've got some work to do at that point. Once we get tired, we aren't competing at the level that's going to be necessary for us to do well." This, he said is what it would take to "make plays when it matters most, and that is at the end of the shot clock or . . . late in a game."

That quote came to mind as I sat in the pew during our church service and listened to the sermon on 2 Peter. In his letter Peter writes that the proper response to grace is effort. While effort does not save, it is an appropriate form of gratitude for salvation. The effort Peter encourages his readers to exert is in supplementing faith with various qualities, such as virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love. It is the quality of being steadfast that stands out to me. My eyes always stop on that word when I come across it. That term has played a role in other of my blog posts. It is a word that I respect and revere and find central to my teaching and coaching. And it is at the heart of some of my greatest struggles.

Physically, I've taken pride in my ability to press on when tired, particularly in my younger, more athletic, less, well, humbling years. Now, however, I find it very difficult to make disciplined, wise mental choices in fatigue. Rather than remaining steadfast to the causes I've prioritized, I allow fatigue to win far too often. In writing, for instance. Or reading. I wanted to quit this post after five minutes of starting it. I rubbed my eyes and thought about shutting my laptop and "taking a break" that I know would have lasted far longer than 24 hours. And it was just a little fatigue. But the temptation to quit was there.

Would me quitting on this post tonight have been a big deal, in the scheme of things? Probably not. But it is practice. It's an opportunity to say yes to what I want to do and no to what I feel like doing. I need practice at not giving in to fatigue. When the shot clock is running down, when I've battled hard all day and don't have much left in the tank, can I string together a few defensive possessions, a few tiny decisions like getting words down on a post or writing a letter or studying some basketball or calling a friend? Will I be practiced at not giving in to fatigue? Or would I just prefer to hope I don't give in and fail in my steadfastness when the fatigue is big and the stakes are bigger? And am I able to see that many tiny decisions define a lifetime?

Also, failing in the small stuff affects far more than me. It convenient to think that I'm the only one I let down when I am not steadfast. But Peter goes on to say that qualities like this "keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful." In other words, without them I have little to offer to a world I'm quite certain I've been called by grace to serve. "For whoever lacks these qualities," writes Peter, "is so nearsighted that he is blind." Falling to fatigue shows I am too present-minded to see anything.

I was fortunate to have a friend of mine stop me after church and out of nowhere mention that he appreciates reading my blog when I get a chance to write. I've known this person for probably a decade, and I've never known he's read this. His words were an encouragement to me. They were also a challenge. I don't delude myself into thinking that the weight of the free world hinges on anything I think or write, or that the world is even that much different based on what I post here. But it is an opportunity for me to offer something to others, to encourage, to prod, to challenge, or even to just say, "you're not alone in this." When I succumb to fatigue, I lose that opportunity. I am unfruitful and so near-sighted that I can only see the discomfort in the here and now.

A few defensive possessions at the end of the shot clock or late in games can define a whole season. It can define a whole life too. And what the New Testament and defensive philosophy teach me is that the consequences matter to far more than just me.

Count tonight as one possession won.