Sitting in a job interview I was asked by the president of the school, “Do you think you’re smart?” I had never been asked that in a job interview. Not knowing how to respond, I quickly said, "My mother thinks I am!" After the laughter stopped (and I got the job), he explained to me what he had meant. He told me the job would require great depth of knowledge, and the person hired would have to understand on how to attack the position effectively. The job required a great deal of discipline and dedication.

Announcer: “Welcome to the new sports game show sweeping the nation in which two contestants compete together to see who can deny responsibility for their actions the most! Let’s meet our host, please welcome. . . Mr. Itz Yorfault. Our two contestants today are Adam Ididntdoit and Eve Itwasntme. And now let’s play. . . The Blame Game!”

OK, so there is no such game; but we see it all the time on sidelines, in locker rooms and on long trips home from games. Teammates banter and complain that everything is everyone else’s fault, not their own. Where did we learn such a thing? The trend goes back a long time.

Shane was a college lacrosse goalie who was playing on our men’s FCA Lacrosse team in Vail, Colorado. It was a ministry outreach that we had done for a couple of years to reach the lacrosse community for Christ, and the Vail Shootout Lacrosse Tournament was at the time the biggest and best tournament to mobilize our efforts. God did amazing things on the field, but what He did off the field was even more amazing. God got ahold of Shane, and I remember being with Him when he asked Jesus to be the Savoir and Lord of his life.

I’ve been out of college for two years now. I haven’t changed much (at least I’d like to think), but there is one aspect of my life that I’ve let slip: my physical workouts. I did all right in the summer and fall, but once the winter months came, I wanted to stay inside where it was warm. After a long day at work I didn’t want to exert any more energy than I already had. Unfortunately, this way of thinking became a habit, and I could feel my body losing all the muscle and stamina I had worked so hard to gain. Still, I made excuses. “I’ve done my time,” I reasoned. I gave my body everything I had for eight years straight, pushing it through multiple sports in high school and college.

Shaun Alexander has always been a winner. If you ask him the secret of his success, he will probably list more than just one—including the vital component of exemplary teamwork.

Teamwork has been a part of Alexander’s competitive life as long as he’s been donning pads and strapping on a helmet. It fueled his success at Boone County High School in Florence, Kentucky, and vetted his Southeastern Conference (SEC) championship run at Alabama in 1999. The same holds true for the Seattle Seahawks’ 2005 National Football Conference title that led to a berth in Super Bowl XL.

Trust is a funny thing. It takes years to build but can be destroyed in an instant. Trust requires honesty, communication, loyalty and proven moral integrity. It is one of the foundational elements behind every great team.

Andy Pettitte knows all about the fragile nature of trust. He has spent his entire life building up trustworthy relationships with his family, his friends, his teammates, the baseball community and the public at large. Yet a single seemingly insignificant misstep can open the door for doubt, which often then results in a certain measure of distrust. In today’s society, it doesn’t take much for a cynical public (and an even more cynical media) to question one’s integrity and chip away at that bedrock of trust.

It’s usually a good rule of thumb to stay away from stereotypes and cultural clichés in order to avoid potentially embarrassing confrontations with the obligatory “exception to the rule.” But in Curtis Brown’s case, even he admits that a predictable portion of life in Saskatchewan—his native Canadian province—can be described in two words: farming and hockey.

Born in the small rural town of Unity, Brown grew up on a farm where he instinctively fell in line with the majority of his young friends. “What Canadians do is hockey,” Brown says. “I was probably about four when I started skating. I was just like the other kids. If you didn’t play hockey, you were definitely an outsider.”

When Tamika Catchings was in the third grade, she played on her first basketball team alongside sister Tauja. Her father, Harvey Catchings—an 11-year NBA player—was the coach of the squad that, other than his daughters, consisted of boys. The fact that Catchings and her sister were the only girls on the team is an interesting fact, but it’s not nearly as telling as the principles they learned from their dad’s coaching style. “We had to learn how to play as a group,” Catchings recalls. “My dad always preached about how it was a team effort. We got that drilled in our head.”

When Steve Fitzhugh picks his friends, he does so very methodically, carefully and selectively. There are certain qualities he looks for in people, and he takes an almost formulaic approach to all potential relationships. And he teaches others to do the same.

For instance, Fitzhugh says the primary quality of a close friend is that he or she is like-minded in his or her faith. The individual must have accepted Jesus as his or her Savior and must have made a long-term commitment to following Him. But that’s just the beginning of Fitzhugh’s laundry list, which also includes trust, confidence and character.