Danny was not a good athlete. In fact, he was pretty bad. I remember he always hated recess. In third grade, we played a killer game of kickball every recess and every boy played … except for Danny. He always watched closely, though. One day the sides were uneven, and I was named captain. I knew what I had to do. With my first pick in the 1970 First Round Draft for recess kickball, I chose Danny Anderson. After everyone got up off the ground from laughing, Danny walked over to my side with his head down.

I play fantasy football with my friends. Although it’s not technically a sport, it is fun. Recently, a person offered to trade me two of his players for one of mine. His players were good, but I didn’t see them as great, so I battled about this trade, I looked at player stats, future projections and schedules to analyze this trade. In the end, I didn’t make it. Why? Because I was afraid! I was afraid that the players were not going to be as good as the one I had and that the two players would let me down. I had fear that my team wouldn’t be as good, and that if I traded that player I would lose the championship.

The next week the players he offered me scored a combined 40 points. My player scored 7. In hindsight it would have been a good trade.

Common interests, passions, experiences, and skills naturally draw people together. We all enjoy partnering with others with whom we can identify. When someone says, “I know how you feel,” and you believe that he really does, a bond is formed. David and Jonathan are examples of two men who experienced that deeper connection; they were, “one in spirit,” drawn together by a shared faith (1 Sm 14; 17). Both men trusted God when no one else did, and as a result, David and Jonathan were key in God’s plan to defeat the dreaded Philistines. Both men trusted God even though the odds were not in their favor.

I recently saw my old coach whom I love and respect. He seemed even closer to Christ and his faith more vibrant than the last time I saw him. He is 67 and still desires to be transformed into the likeness of Christ. It gives me great optimism. My coach will never change. For him to change would be to stop moving forward, to stop desiring God. He knows he is on a journey, he knows where his citizenship rests.

Can we grasp how hard it is, and yet how fundamental it is to progress? Our brains, bodies, and even friends resist our transformation. Habit, routine, and a planned agenda give a sense of security. The older we get, the harder change becomes. It is much easier to transplant a sapling than a mature tree.

Almost every Christian coach I know wants to have a philosophy of coaching that is positive. But in the battle of competition, sometimes we get caught up in the heat of the moment and lose our focus. We may stay positive on the outside, but inside we are feeling the tension—tension that causes us to lose that positive edge.

I have found that what we tell our athletes to think about is exactly what they will think about. We may say, “Don’t ever miss a serve on game point.” What are they thinking when they come to the line? They are thinking about not missing the serve. What do they see? Missing the serve, which is exactly what we told them to think about!