WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Chalk Up One For the Good Guys

     It was a moment I had waited seventeen years to experience. Ever since I accepted the job as the head baseball coach at Division I Gardner-Webb University, I longed for the moment when my coaching friends in the basketball department would be invited to "dance". Unless you live under a rock, you know "dancing" means being invited or qualifying to play in the NCAA basketball championship tournament, also known as March Madness, March Mayhem, and most famously, the Big Dance. The tournament has produced several terms that have become universally recognized- Sweet Sixteen, Final Four, One Shining Moment, One and Done, Cinderella, Survive and Advance, and Bracket Buster, to name a few.   
     Our hoops team qualified by winning the conference championship game on a Sunday. The following Sunday, we all gathered in the Student Center to see where our guys would be playing and whom they would be playing against. Nobody really cared who our partner would be. We were just happy to be going dancing.
     Our guys are coached by a fine human being and a close friend of mine, Tim Craft. Many moons ago, when Tim was an assistant basketball coach at Gardner-Webb, he and I played pickup basketball most Tuesdays and Thursdays at lunchtime with a group of about ten to fifteen other coaches and staff. On one occasion Tim informed me how much he loved baseball and I half jokingly invited him to help me coach up little kids at my youth summer camp if he ever wanted to. That summer he took me up on my offer and he spent a week in the hot sun helping me chase kids around in the sweltering heat.
     Coach Craft left Gardner-Webb for greener pastures but when the head coaching job came open a few years back, he threw his name in the hat to be our head coach. When he emerged at the top of the list, I was ecstatic that he would be returning. Gardner-Webb is a Christian university where deep, caring personal relationships and selflessness run rampant- and where egos and arrogance are scarce. Tim Craft's hand was the perfect fit for the glove.
     A group of us head coaches invited Tim to join our weekly lunch time prayer and sharing group (Lunch Bunch) and he quickly became a regular. I learned even more about his priorities as a husband, father, and role model during those lunch gatherings. I can smell sincerity in a person if I'm around them long enough, and Tim Craft reeked of it.
     Most of the coaches who were my mentors at Gardner-Webb when I first arrived are long gone now. I woke up one day and realized I was among the oldest and longest tenured coaches left. Funny how that works. Tim reminded me of that one day recently and thanked me for my leadership in the department. In turn I reminded him that as the head basketball coach, he also has a leadership role to fulfill regardless of the length of his tenure. It is a role he has performed admirably.
     Selection Sunday was a big deal at Gardner-Webb. The entire community showed up in the Student Center. I stood facing the team and their coach so I could see their faces when they saw their school's name on the big screen. When that moment arrived, I watched as Coach Craft and his players leaped to their feet and danced the dance of joy. I captured the moment in a video on my phone and enjoyed watching it several times afterwards.
     Later than evening while watching it for the umpteenth time, a feeling of deja vu swept over me. I was certain I had seen Tim Craft dance in that same manner before. I wracked my brain for several minutes until it finally hit me. I had seen Tim do that same dance one day at baseball camp many years earlier.
     He was working with a group of kids who were probably eight or nine years old and they had just won one of the competition drills at camp. They all crowded around their coach and began jumping up and down in wild, uninhibited celebration. And much to everyone's delight, Coach Craft jumped, danced, and celebrated with them. It was hilarious but more importantly, it was sincere.
     Former legendary baseball manager Leo Durocher once said- "Nice guys finish last." And at times that may seem true, which leads humans to ask deep theological questions like- "Why do bad things happen to good people and why do good things happen to bad people?" I don't have answers for those questions. There's just too much I don't understand. But I do know what Galatians 6:9 says- "Let us not become weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." And I will choose to dwell on that.
     When Coach Craft became GWU's basketball coach a few years back, we all knew the hand fit the glove. And now, the foot fits the shoe, the one Cinderella will wear to the dance. And dance with Coach Craft we all will, because this one shining moment belongs to all of us associated with Gardner-Webb University. But the best part is that we can chalk up one for one of the good guys.
     Dream the dream, dance the dance, and celebrate the breath of life. Do good and never, ever give up. And reap the harvest at the proper time. For Coach Craft and his team, that time is now. #WellCrafted

   

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: No Offense Meant in the Grocery Store

     I mean no offense when I say there are some things women do better than men. Immediately there are likely some among you whose radar has perked up. Males may say- "Here he goes with the male bashing". Females may be thinking- "He better not say women are good at the nurturing and raising of children and the guys are better at being the breadwinners." Relax, I will say nothing of the sort. I can think what I wish but I know better than to say stuff out loud anymore. That's because on every street corner, chat room, and kitchen stool, there is always someone who is looking for a reason to be offended.

     It's the age we live in. The whole politically correct thing. Before you judge me to be insensitive, I will say that I am against intolerance and discrimination. I agree there are wrongs that need to be righted, attitudes that need to be adjusted, and narrow minded views that need to become extinct. But it's also possible that the pendulum has swung too far in the other direction in some cases these days. 

     I think I would probably be miserable if my primary objective each day was to be on constant lookout for reasons to be offended. I'm sure I could find plenty of reasons to be offended if I looked hard enough, but I think that would take too much of my energy and would distract me from appreciating all the other things a day might offer me. 

     For example, I can state unequivocally from firsthand knowledge that women know their way around a grocery store better than men. Sorry fellow men, it's true, so don't be offended. And most of the females I've encountered in the grocery store are aware of that fact. 

     Several months back, I remember being on the spice aisle at the grocery store and having a terrible time trying to find what it was I needed. I narrowed my choices down to a couple possibilities but couldn't pull the trigger. At that moment a nice lady came walking by and without thinking, I uttered perhaps the most offensive phrase that's ever come out of my mouth- "Hey, you're a female, can you help me out?" I certainly didn't mean it the way it sounded. With terror filled eyes, I stared at this stranger next to me and braced for her reaction. 

     After a second or two that seemed like the length of a visit to the dentist, my new friend broke out in laughter- not just a giggle, but full fledged laughter. No offense intended, none taken. Once she got a hold of herself, she jumped in head first and my problem was solved in thirty seconds or less. My stereotype was justified, she knew what she was doing. I, of course, did not. 

     Recently I was in that same grocery store at the checkout line, minding my own business. The female cashier checked me out. (I wasn't offended by her checking me out, because in reality she was merely ringing up the cost of the items, not "checking me out") The male bagger put my items into the proper plastic bags and handed them over to me. At one point, I nearly dropped the bag containing the fragile eggs. Said the bagger- "Hey, you better not drop those, she would kill you."

     At that point, there were various sorts of ways I could have been offended by his "insensitivity". Several responses were available to me. I will list a few.

1. Sir, I am offended that you would just naturally assume I am married. 

2. Sir, maybe I am married, but why would you assume it's a she? 

3. Sir, if I was married, and if it was to a she, why would you assume she was capable of violence?

4. Sir, if I was married, and if it was to a she, why would you think I would cower in front of her and let her abase and degrade me for dropping and cracking the eggs. Are you saying I'm a wimp? 

5. Sir, I am offended that you assume I couldn't afford to go grab another carton of eggs and pay for them. Are you insinuating that I'm poor? 

(I could go on and on but I won't, which I know you appreciate).

     In Matthew 15, Jesus has an encounter with the religious leaders of the day- the Pharisees- where he basically calls them hypocrites. When his disciples inform him that the Pharisees were offended by his remarks, Jesus is unapologetic. In fact, in Matthew 15:14, he goes on to call them blind guides and warns the disciples to stay away from them. Sometimes you gotta call it what it is, regardless of who is offended. 

     Of all the responses available to me when the bagger warned me about dropping the eggs, this is the one I chose- "Thanks my man, you're totally right." How could I be offended when he was just trying to be friendly and engage in some male bonding? How could I be offended when he was right on all counts- other than the part about my wife actually killing me, which I think was possible, but not probable. No offense to my wife.