Legendary coach John Wooden coined a phrase “competitive greatness,” striving to be the best we can, not trying to be the best.

Five-time All-Pro Green Bay Packers lineman Jerry Kramer played from 1958 to 1968. In 1959, Jerry wanted to quit until one day Coach Vince Lombardi told Jerry he could become the greatest lineman in the NFL. Jerry decided to give 100 percent and became one of the greatest. He understood competitive greatness.

Coach Wooden defined competitive greatness as a real love for hard battle, knowing it offers the opportunity to be at our best when our best is required. These three concepts help me grasp competitive greatness:

After a game when one of my players did not follow my signal and steal second base, I went to talk with him: “I need second base; I don’t need a lead-off hitter to get to first. I need a lead-off hitter who can get to second. If you are telling me you can’t get to second, then I need to find another lead-off hitter.” “I’ll get you second base,” was the answer. “Good!”

Life demands toughness. I thought it was tough being a student. Then I got a real job. Tough! I thought it was tough playing in the NFL. Then I got married. Tough! I thought it was tough being married. Then I had kids.
Tough!

As athletes and coaches, we have a tendency to dream big. We dream of championships and of finding success on the field or court. But sometimes we forget that we are already champions in Christ, and that God has big dreams for us of His own! Just what are some of those dreams?

Our family plays a game at the dinner table called “Would you rather . . .?” When we ask this question our children have to answer with such questions as, “Would you rather win a World Series or a Super Bowl?” One night, I asked my three kids: “Would you rather be a great leader or a great servant?” I barely had time to finish before my ten-year-old said, “Dad, they’re the same thing. If you serve someone, you’re showing and teaching someone what Jesus would do!” After overcoming my astonishment at the maturity of one so young, I realized how right she was. She already understood that a great servant is always a great leader, but a leader is not necessarily a servant.

We know them well—athletes who, at first, worked hard and gave the credit to God for their success. But then as success increased, giving God the glory decreased. It happens all the time—the once humble athlete asks for more of the world and less of God. Pride takes over!

King Uzziah was one of these men. Under the spiritual influence of Zechariah, Uzziah sought the Lord and was blessed. But Uzziah started to focus more on himself and less on God. He became powerful quickly and quickly forgot who got him to that point. He became so proud and brash that he entered the temple and tried to do things only the priests were allowed to do.

In the game of baseball, pitcher Mariano Rivera of the New York Yankees is the King of the Hill. He is the sport’s all-time greatest closer with over 600 saves. When Mariano comes out of the bullpen, the game is over. Mariano is a picture of power from the pitcher’s mound.

Having the power to perform well in sports is one thing. Having power for life is something else entirely. In life we have three opponents – the lie of the devil, the lure of our flesh, and the love of the world. (1 John 2:15-17)

Chad was the consummate team player, working harder than everyone else. He was humble and unselfish, and never once did I hear him talk trash to an opponent. I knew there was something different about Chad, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

At age 16 I began to search for the purpose of my existence. Sports were gratifying, but I knew they wouldn’t last forever. Around this time, I learned that the difference between Chad and me was that he had a personal relationship with Jesus that influenced his life on and off the field.

During a vacation trip to the beach this summer I went out for an early morning run. In the distance I caught sight of a young lady running the opposite direction about 20 feet from the shore. As she neared, I noticed she was an experienced runner as evidenced by her performance apparel, sleek figure and toned muscles. She was trudging through the soft “fluffy” white sand with strenuous effort. Her legs were literally bounding off the sand, but due to the inconsistency of the terrain, she was running shockingly slow. She was soaked in sweat, red-faced and labored in breathing. As I continued to run effortlessly on the wet, flat, firmer sand I thought about all the extra effort she was exerting by choosing to run on the distinctly opposite sand.

Growing up, sports were my life. No matter what the season, I had a ball in my hand. When I got to high school, I realized that I had to train with more focus and intensity. I needed to get bigger, stronger, and faster.

Over 95% of an athlete’s time is spent training and less than 5% competing. Training prepares us for game time. We make sacrifices to get better. Tim Tebow says “hard work always beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.” Some athletes want the results without the work, but that’s not the way it works. Our desire needs to be matched by our do.

About 13 years ago during college I started running as a way of staying in shape. Over the years, I’ve come to love the sport, and because of that, the verse above caught my attention, and I have continued to meditate on it.

I recently read a research article about the physical size of a person’s heart muscle. The research noted that the size of a runner’s heart was measurably larger than the size of an ordinary person’s heart. As the runner trains on a regular basis, the heart begins to pump blood with more volume and with more power, causing the heart muscle to strengthen and increase in size. Doesn’t that sound a lot like Psalm 119:32? I believe this concept can help our hearts grow spiritually as well.