“I love winners when they cry, losers when they try.”
—Tom T. Hall

From Your Reflective Publisher & Executive Editor:

As a community, we have just traversed over half the state to watch some guys play basketball. And they were good. Better, even, than their finish in the area tournament would have you believe. I’m not a huge sports fan (I never watch it on TV), but I have watched an awful lot of high school sports in my day. Being drum major of the Welch Wildcat Marching Band for several years, I led the pride of Welch High School on many a football field. That meant long bus trips; hot and cold rehearsals; hot, wet, and cold games; and teaching lots of seventh graders their left from their right. It also meant we learned the game. Teresa Kelley, our intrepid band teacher for many years, would assemble the band early in the season for a lecture not on music theory but on football. She felt it very important for us to understand the game and how it was played. Her worst fear was for the band to be doing an offensive cheer when our team was on defense. So we learned football, and I am glad we did.

I was never much of an athlete; that is to say I wasn’t an athlete at all. I’m of the mind that, if you play a sport, you need to pursue it with all you are. I was never gifted in sporting events, nor was I that interested in doing what it took to make me good, so I thought it better to pursue other things that I was willing to do relentlessly. I still think that was the best choice for me—and for the teams that would have been handicapped by my presence. And I think there’s a lesson there. If you’re going to participate, do it with every fiber of your being. If you can’t or won’t, it’s OK to take the sideline. Sometimes, in life, we can do more for our team as a fanatical and enthusiastic spectator than as a participant. But whichever you choose, do it, and go all out.

And much like as in my high school days, my recent courtside position with my Canon in my hand has taught me some things that I share with you here. Jeane and I have grown very fond of our Wildcat team in just a short while, so this is, in many ways, for them, but it applies to all of us in all areas of life.

• Never, never, never give up until after the clock has run out. You never know what opportunities will present themselves at the last moment.
• Do not waste time. There’s never so much time on the clock that you can stand to burn any up. It’s the same in life. You can never get time back after it’s expired, and no lead is enough to make you safe and no deficit is enough to keep you beat so long as the final buzzer hasn’t rang out.
• Capitalize on every opportunity, especially the routine, mundane ones. Every point counts, whether one-third of a trey or 100% of a free throw. Once they’re on the board, they stay there, and your opponent must answer them.
• The people who really care about you most will cheer as loud (or louder) when you’re down by 15 as they do when you’re up by 15.
• You will have off days. Learn to expect them and compensate for them.
• Some days, no matter how hard you try, nothing will seem to work right. Every shot you make will be short, long, or sloppy. Even the ones that feel good will bobble around the hoop and bounce out. That is no reason to stop shooting. The old saying is that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, and it’s true. Points win games, and you get points by shooting, so keep fighting to the bucket, especially when you’re down and they’re not falling.
• You can’t always pull it out, and your real fans know it. They will stand and applaud anyway if you play to the end with all you have.
• Eight short minutes can make all the difference in the world.
• Fans cheer for their team to do their best. Hoodlums cheer for their opponents to do badly. Be a fan.
• Sore winners are worse than sore losers.
• People hear what comes out of your mouth in the stands. God does, too.
• Sometimes officials will do badly—very badly. They won’t protect what they should. They won’t blow their whistles on your end of the court. They’ll do more harm than good. They’ll convince you that there is no minimum sight requirement for their position. They’re still the officials.
• Choosing to work as a team gives you more opportunities to excel as an individual.
• Character has more to do with what you do with the time on the clock than it does with the scores on the board.
• Enjoy youth, speed, and thin bodies. You will get older, fatter, and slower.
• A good start doesn’t guarantee a strong finish. A strong finish does.
• If a 32-minute game is worth that much time, effort, energy, practice, preparation, and sacrifice, how much more it the rest of your life worth?
• Some days you can’t miss; some days you can’t buy a bucket. You’re the same person on both those days.
• Public defeats are no fun, but public victories sure are worth it!
• It’s something special to be a Welch Wildcat, and that doesn’t end when you graduate.
• If you appreciate the opportunities you’ve had, make sure those who follow you have them, too.
• The best coaches make you and your teammates want to give your best.
• I’m not sure whether God cares who wins and loses games, but I am certain He cares about what the game teaches you about yourself and life.
• You should still pray—and work—to win.
• Never take your fans for granted. They sacrifice to watch you play.
• Never take your detractors too seriously. They’re probably not happy with anyone.
• Sometimes you’ll get beat by people who aren’t as good as you. You’re only inferior if you act that way.
• Fun is important. Not everything important is fun. Not everything fun is important.
• Sometimes you will travel long distances, try your hardest, and come up short. It’s still worth traveling long distances and trying your hardest.

And there you have it, nothing more than my own meandering thoughts, though I’m not trying to be the “Wear Sunscreen” guy. What lessons did you learn? Share them in the comments section below.

Ed.