One of my favorite things about John Wooden’s coaching was that he taught his players each year to put on their socks and tie their shoes properly. You’d think college-age athletes could already do this, but Wooden took nothing for granted. He paid attention to the little things which made the big things come easier for his teams over the years.

Of course, Coach Wooden wanted to teach his players a lesson: if they were going to play in his program, they had to put aside what they wanted to do and follow his plans for the team. That discipline in the small things gave his teams great results, winning ten national championships and setting an example for us of the fact that little things make the biggest difference.

Jealousy can destroy a team. A lot of it comes from outside people saying, “You can do this and you can do that” or “the only reason you can’t do it is because that other player is getting two more shots than you are.”

It’s funny when you think about it, but that happens and then you start buying into it, and you start saying, “Yeah, I should be playing more.” But whatever God has for you, you will have. Nobody else can take that away. If you’re not getting the playing time you should get or the recognition you should get, work harder. Work harder. Don’t sit there and blame somebody else for what they’re doing.

Sweaty palms, a racing heart and butterflies in the stomach were my Friday night enemies. The opening drive always made me nervous. I wanted our team to make a statement on the opening drive—to march straight down the field and score. But, at times the fear seemed almost paralyzing.

In those moments, my high school head coach would always remind us to “turn it loose and play.” I found great encouragement in that statement to let go of my fear and nervousness and just play the game.

Are you willing to pay the price and ask others tough questions? Being on staff with FCA, I have the opportunity to spend time with amazing ministry, sports and business leaders from around the world. My goal is to be a sponge around them and ask as many questions as possible. Asking the tough questions produces powerful insights, but most people try to impress others by talking the entire time. Very few athletes and coaches maximize the opportunity to do what life-learners always do: Ask Questions. Shut Up. Listen. Take Notes.

“A prudent question is one half of wisdom.”
- Francis Bacon

Weight lifters often use spotters to help them stay safe during workouts and get maximum results. In your own experience, have you ever done a bench press workout without a spotter? I have. And when I tried it, my workout was lack luster. I couldn’t work out as intensely as I could have if I’d known I had someone there.

When I bench press, I’m so much more effective when I have a spotter to encourage me and offer help if I need it. When I get tired, my spotter speaks encouraging words or helps me lift, and he provides just enough help so that I can finish that last rep or two. He really helps me have a great workout instead of just a good workout.

Most of the time as coaches we push, push, push! Our players know we are serious about getting better as a team. We even yell and scream to get the point across because we know that sometimes a nice calm, controlled request just doesn’t get the result we are looking for. Or we might hold an extended practice to work on a specific problem so we are better prepared. But how often do we push, push, push our own selves to get better? What do we do to improve?

If you watch ants, you can see that they work tirelessly. An ant knows its job and performs it with expertise, discipline, and focus—for the good of the whole colony. What are we doing that models this approach?

Back when I was a track athlete, I was blessed to have great coaches who taught me about the need for perseverance and patience throughout the track season. My high school coach used to tell me in meets early in the season, “Right now, you are racing against the clock. Try to be a step faster, and you’re winning. Remember, the race that matters most is the final in League Championships.” My coach understood the big picture and our goals for the season. He sought to build that same sense into me as well so that I could continue progressing, improving each day to reach the ultimate goal. Now that I’m a coach myself (women’s volleyball), I have reflected on this lesson often.

Legendary University of Tennessee Lady Volunteers basketball coach Pat Summitt was diagnosed with early onset dementia. The 59-year-old, winningest college basketball coach of all time, made the announcement and would attempt to continue coaching as long as she could.

It was a shocking announcement not only to UT fans, but to sports fans in general. Summitt had always seemed so indestructible. But even the strongest of men and women still face challenges in life that are common to everyone.

"Whatever" has been a popular word, particularly among teens, for years. But did you know that this word is also found 173 times in Scripture? My personal favorite use of this word—and a use that has become important for my team—is in Philippians 1:27. Here, Paul instructs us that “whatever” happens, we should conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ. Wow. That makes the over-used word "whatever" seem a lot more serious.

This was our time. My college basketball team had been in the middle of a rough losing streak, but now we found ourselves in a close game with a rival team on their court. This was our time.

After a series of tough foul calls, we were still within reach--down by three with one minute to go. During the timeout, all my coach asked of me was to get open on the wing and skip it to my teammate coming off of a fade screen. No way could I mess this up for my team.

One of the worst feelings in sports is losing after having a big lead. Most of us have been a part of a game in which we got ahead early and then watched a victory slip away. We never see it coming because we become so comfortable with the position we’ve gained that we assume we’re not vulnerable and we slack off. Maybe we play around with the ball in the backfield, or we slow our pace. We might even quit completely or forget some of the fundamentals of the game because of how blind we’ve become.