While David and four hundred of his men set out to defeat the Amalekites (1 Sm 30:1–26), two hundred men stayed behind to watch the supplies because they were too exhausted to fight. I call these men the “taxi squad” They were not the frontline players, but they were nonetheless absolutely essential to the team. After his victory, David returned to the camp to greet the men who had stayed behind, even though some of the selfish frontliners did not want to share the plunder with the taxi squad. However, David knew that everyone had a role to play and that the victory had come from God. Therefore, David issued a statute for all of Israel—that while he was in charge all would share in the plunder, including the taxi squad.

“If the rush gets close, fall down and act like you were hit. We get an automatic first down if we draw a roughing-the-punter penalty.” If the referees are not calling holding for offensive linemen, have we ever instructed our athletes to hang on just a little? Do we influence the referees by showing our players how to have “hinged heels” when drawing an offensive foul in basketball? Ever silently wished that the best player would miss just this one game so we don’t have to play against the best of the best? Do we coach gamesmanship, win-at-all-costs attitudes with manipulation of the rules? Is winning more important than teaching character in sport and life?

When I was in eighth grade, my world got turned upside down. My dad was a pastor, and when he got a new job, we moved from a small town where I was comfortable, had friends, and felt like I made a difference, to a little bigger town where I had to “prove myself” all over again. I greatly feared being insignificant and wanted to do anything I could to set myself apart. So, I did what I knew best: I played sports thinking that would give me the value I wanted. As it turned out, I did achieve success, but it didn’t have the lasting value I thought it would. I wound up being labeled as a show-off and dealing with an entirely different problem—all because I thought I needed to prove myself and achieve worldly significance.

As a certified athletic trainer, I have spent many hours watching football practices and games. I pay especially close attention to all of my linemen (the big boys on the front line). It’s amazing how you watch these young men get down and block, all for the sole purpose of creating holes for the running backs or protecting the all-important quarterback. These linemen perform blocks and pulls throughout every practice and game, yet we rarely ever hear their names being called out on the loudspeakers telling of the great job they are doing.

At the beginning of a new year many people set goals, and for the first several weeks they stay on track to achieving them. Sadly, many people get derailed even though we intellectually know what coaches, personal trainers, teachers and mentors tell us: that there is payoff when we persevere.

When I was 13 years old, I entered a city-wide track meet. My younger sister was a talented sprinter, so my parents and I wanted to see if I had the gift too. We lived in a city east of Chicago, and, as I entered the track and went to check-in for my race, I noticed I was probably one of two white kids in my heat. I also noticed that everyone else around me was a lot taller and bigger. At just over 5 feet and 115 lbs., I was what most parents and coaches call a "late bloomer."

Lately, it seems like there has been a proliferation of sports scandals at the amateur and professional levels. In most, if not all of the situations, there was a key moment of decision when the allegations surfaced. The choice was between character and reputation.

Coaches are familiar with famous slogans. We put them on T-shirts and in pictures or paint them on walls to try to motivate our athletes. One famous slogan is, “TEAM, me.” “Team” is capitalized because that’s where everyone’s focus should be. “Me” is in lower case to show that individual goals are secondary to the team goals.

You hear it on ESPN, read it in the papers, see it on the news: smack! Smack is a common form of vernacular used by players and sometimes coaches to establish or self-promote their performances. In short, it is trash talking. In every league, game, and team there is someone who has the gift of smack. Usually this person has an ego the size of Texas, humility the size of Delaware, and common sense the size of an M&M®. Smack-talkers usually just talk the talk, but fail to walk the walk.