Do you remember your first time? No, not that first time. The first time you were truly and lastingly motivated by your coach or manager? My first time was when I was playing for my high school freshmen basketball team. Even on the freshmen team, it was about winning, not necessarily everyone getting to play. Still early in the season, we were undefeated, but barely. Squeaking out each win by a few points. My coach complained bitterly about giving 100% effort, so he could safely play everyone at the end of the game. But it wasn’t happening. We never got a big lead. And I was part of the problem. “Pacing myself” I thought. Resting on defense so I could play offense. We were yelled at (coached) in the locker room, we were yelled at on the court, in time out huddles, and individually pulled from the game , yelled at, then put right back out there. Still, no one was giving 100% effort
Then the high school purchased a new tool… video taping. After one of those close games, we had our first film session. My coach said, “Watch this closely,” as he played a short clip over and over. I was on defense under the basket. Rebounding. I jumped once, high in the air, but the ball went off my finger tips, back up in the air. I didn’t jump the second time, instead watching as an opponent got the rebound. “Look at this,” he said replaying it over and over, “The One Jump Wonder! Great first effort… then… nothing.”
Yes, that would certainly motivate me some. Everyone laughed in the film session. The story spread around school. Some friends started calling me “OJ” in the days before we played again. Not for the good “OJ” (at the time), but short for One Jump. I did work harder in practice.
But then it happened. The explosion of motivation. The next game. A home game. Basketball was big in our small town, even freshmen games. The gymnasium was over half full. During the first minute of play I slashed to the basket for a lay-up and was fouled hard, in the face. I lost a contact, and I was blind without contacts. I found it quickly and ran to our bench for saline solution to put it back in. As I scrambled, I heard our coach ask, “Can he stay in the game if I use a time out?”
“Yes”
As I tried to reapply the contact, I felt a burning pain in my eye, a nasty speck was still on the lens. I had to take it back out. The buzzer sounded.
“Come on coach.”
He called another full time out. I didn’t even know you could do that. And timeouts were precious. This was early in the game. Certainly I could have come out of the game, and come back in a few minutes later. Then, still struggling, the buzzer sounded again… he called a third time out! Back to back to back. I could hear grumbling in the stands. I don’t know whether he would have used his last two of the game right then, since I was finally ready to go. Standing on the free throw line with a slightly blurry eye, I looked across and saw the varsity head coach sitting a few rows above our bench, arms folded, not looking happy.
I quickly processed the powerful messages my freshman coach had wordlessly sent to me:
You are important
and…
I believe in you
and…
Every moment counts
Finally… message received. And he delivered that message in front of hundreds. At his personal risk. I felt unworthy. I was unworthy. But now I was challenged, I began playing with 100% effort, holding nothing back. Still didn’t have my jump shot, but I gained steal after steal, slashed in for lay-ups, rebounded, made great passes to my teammates. We blew the game open. I sat on the bench most of the fourth quarter enjoying the win. That injection of motivation lasted all year. One Jump Wonder no more.