At Season's End

This past weekend I had the opportunity of working as a statistician for a regional basketball tournament.  This is something I've been privileged to to do many times and it is something I enjoy immensely.  I enjoy watching the different teams as they all come into the tournament with unique experiences, dynamics, and philosophies.  I love observing the various coaching behaviors and how each coach's players respond to his or her methods of teaching and communication.  I love getting to know each of the participants by way of their statistical patterns.  But the two things I love and enjoy most of all are, first, seeing the varying levels of effort and heart put into the game by each individual player as they realize their season is near it's end, and second, the love and dedication that a good coach has for each of his players.

With his own set of experiences, skills, and motivations for playing the game, each player is uniquely his own.  An individual brings an element to the tournament that only he can provide and within that element is hidden an exclusive goal shaped by their own personalities and values.  These individual players combine their goals for a season with a team that they've chosen to participate in and represent.  Some teams merge their individual goals with harmonious synergy, while others' merge as successfully as two negatively charged magnets.  Even still, within the tournament itself each team comes together to fight for one ultimate goal.  With the assorted elements of each player and team colliding in every match-up, each game has the potential to be, and many are, a battle to the final buzzer.  Some fight honorably and fair while others leave a black mark on the name and colors they've chosen to represent. 

After watching one spectacular competition after another I couldn't help but actively observe the habits, efforts, and attitudes of one particular player.  This player is one whose reputation precedes him and one whose appearance deceives many.  The roster would indicate that he is young man, arguably a kid still, though his features would appear to write a different story.  Whenever he takes the court, opponents can be seen as visibly nervous for fear that they are facing a man not just a boy.  He captivated the crowed with his physical stature but it was the great deal of effort he put into his personal and team goals in every match-up that earned their respect and admiration.  His fair share of mistakes were made no doubt, but successes were also realized as he bounced back from each one with resounding fight.
But it was in his final moment of competition that my attention was truly caught.  I saw as pain and exhaustion set in at the realization that it was over.  He had fought so hard and left every ounce of himself on the court.  So when that whistle indicated his time was done, he had nothing left to cope with the impending uncertainty and disappointment.  The tightly packed and captivated crowd watched as a player known for his composure buried his face in the drastically smaller shoulder of his leader and mentor, his coach.  It was a sight to behold as a comical reminder of his physical maturity and as an endearing moment between a young boy and a coach who truly empathized with his every emotion; a coach who loved and comforted his boy at the season's end.

We've all been blessed with unique lives bundled with experiences that shape who we are and who we want to be.  Each and every single one of us is a child of God with our own personal element to bring to this earth.  We are molded as we go through various battles of this great tournament.  In this life we are given opportunities to experience, we are given trials to overcome, and we are given the opportunity to fight for our goals.  Some goals are exclusive to an individual while some are formed in a unit.  As we all work towards our goals in life, both temporal and eternal, I think of the tournament boys and wonder, "which type of player am I?"
Am I one who soils the name I've chosen to represent by infecting others with my attitude?  Am I one who leaves no mark at all because my fighting style is passive?  Or am I like the one who gives everything until there is nothing left to give, fighting with gusto until that last buzzer rings? 

It is my hope that we can and will all choose to be the latter.  Though we may be small like a child or grown like a man, we are all children of God, our Heavenly Coach.  It is also my belief and testimony that if we choose to be the one who fights with vigor every second on the clock, there will be one waiting for each of us, small and large alike, to crumble in His arms at the sound of the buzzer.  One who knows us each by name.  One who knows our habits, goals, and statistics as players in this great tournament.  One who can truly empathize with the joys that follow each success and the sorrow tacked onto the end of a disappointment.  One whose name we must consciously decide to emblazon our jersey with each day.  If we leave everything we have on the court with His name on our backs, He will be there, like a coach for his boy to comfort us and tell us that all will be well at season's end.