Seeing the Whole Field

September 20, 2013

I spent almost all of my days as a competitive athlete in a position where all the other players were in my field of vision.

From the age of 10 until I gave up baseball at 20, I was a catcher. I spent my entire career in foul territory, observing the other players in fair, the entire diamond before me.

In basketball I was what we now call a “point guard.” As I brought the ball up court, the other nine players were in front of me.

As a high school and college football player, I was a defensive safety. No one was to get behind me; and at every snap, 21 other players were in my field of vision.

I’ve always known that participation in sports shaped very much of my character; but only recently – nearer the end of my professional career than to the start – am I seeing the whole field and appreciating the fullness of that influence. For example:

  • To be the one who asks for the fast ball or curve. Or the change-up when it’s needed.
  • To be the one who sets up each play and delivers the pass to get it started. And watching others score.
  • To be the one who makes the tackle when no one else is left to do so.
  • And most of all, to see the whole field; to see all of one’s teammates and observe how they all are indispensable to a winning performance.

The Importance of Play

September 9, 2016

In the usual post-Olympic sports news coverage there was the predictable commentary about over-commercialization of the Olympic movement and corruption of the Olympic ideal. Is this really what the Greeks intended?

Of course not.

But really, what do we do today that has any resemblance to what we intended a century ago when the “modern” Olympic movement was resurrected, much less to what was intended 27 centuries earlier when the ancient Olympics began?

But at least one thing with ancient Greek roots remains unchanged. It is this.

Plato, student of Socrates, mentor of Aristotle and founder of the “academy” in Athens during the heyday of the ancient OIympics, wrote that more can be learned about a person in an hour of play than a year of conversation.

That has not changed.

And that is one very important of very many reasons why play of a competitive nature – not mere recreation – matters, just as much today as 28 centuries ago. In fact, in this “modern” world of nonstop electronic conversation, the hour of physical engagement between people may be our most revealing communication.