A soccer player falls in the penalty box after being tackled. She gets back up, walks to the referee who is pointing to the penalty spot, and explains that she just dove to avoid the tackle and there should not be any foul called on the play.

After signing his scorecard, a golfer notices an error, reports it to the officials and gets automatically disqualified after winning the tournament.

Even though her first serve was called inbound, a tennis player, knowing that her ball was out, overrules the line judge’s call and gets ready to second serve.

A baseball centerfielder admits that he caught the ball just after it touched the ground and tells the umpire that the batter should now be on first base, not out.

Every time a track meet comes around, memories of my past throws (shot put and discus) come rushing back into my mind—all of the times I’ve choked or have failed to do my best. I’m so anxious about how I need to make up for my short comings of the last meet that I never truly enjoy competing. Shame of the past always seems to bring me down.

“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?

“Too small…too short…can’t play…can’t survive…can’t make it in the NFL.” Who were the so-called experts talking about? It was Buffalo Bills quarterback, Doug Flute. He was too small in the estimation of many NFL scouts. Yet, in the Canadian Football League, Doug Flute is considered to be the best player in CFL history, winner of six Most Outstanding Player awards in eight years, quarterback of three Gray Cup champions, holder of most of the league’s passing records (41,355 career passing yards and 270 passing touchdowns).

I accepted the Lord at thirteen years old and had no problem sharing my faith with friends in junior high and high school. Not only was I a Christian, but a wrestler too. Wrestling gave me an audience to spread the Word, so I made a T-shirt that would show evidence of my faith.

Athletics are full of emotion. Excitement, enthusiasm, disappointment, happiness and joy are all part of the competitive experience. Paul reminded Christians at Philippi to rejoice in the Lord, and the message is the same for us today. But we live in a difficult world with real battles. As John 10:10 tells us, “A thief comes only to steal and to kill and to destroy.” What is the thief after? Not anything that can be seen in the physical—no, he wants to steal the joy in our hearts.

Eric was a finely tuned football player who went to battle for his team every Friday night. He was ready to do what his coach asked him to do for the sake of his team. Then came the big game against their conference rivals. The quarterback on the other team was having a great season. The coach pulled Eric aside and told him that when he had the chance, he must take the QB out of the game, however he needed to do it. Eric, an FCA member and believer in Christ, had a decision to make.