The other night, I watched my son play his last basketball
game. I watched with pride as he scored
in double digits and played hard all the way until the end. Basketball has always been his favorite sport
since he was little. As I watched his
game that night, I reminisced back to the first time he played on the goal we
got him for Christmas. That first day as
I watched and played with my kids in the driveway, my five year old son
dribbled all over the place and would heave the ball into the air - sometimes
hitting the goal, rarely getting a ball in the goal, and mostly hitting nothing
close to the goal. I was amazed however
at his ability to dribble a basketball between his legs while he exclaimed, “I’m
Dirk Nowitski!”
I continued that evening to move through the memories as I
soon found myself coaching his YMCA league team. I thought about the times I had to sit him on
the bench because he argued with my decisions as a coach. He was mad at me and it was hard for me to do
that even when it hurt the team. I knew
at the time it was more important to teach my son the importance of lessons in
life over winning a game. I also reminisced about the days we spent
playing basketball in the driveway over the years. At first, he was never able to beat me. Then one day he won a game. His first question was, “Dad did you let me
win?” He has since learned how much of a
competitor I am and that I would never let him win. But
soon he got older. He grew, got taller,
stronger and smarter. I got older,
slower and tired more quickly. I soon
found myself losing more and more games, eventually losing the best of 5 series
against him. Today, he beats me most of
the time and when I do win, I have to talk trash to him.
The best part of those games and matches were not the score
or who won. It was the times we talked
about life. Sometimes he would ask me to
help him with basketball skills but mostly he was asking me about being a
man. My wife and I have spent many hours
and miles watching him play basketball from middle school to high school. We would talk to him about attitude, effort
and other life skills we noticed on the court as he represented (or didn’t represent)
Christ in a public way. We would use
those as teaching moments. Not about
basketball, but about life. This brings
us back to the last game I was watching.
I can’t explain the pride his mother and I had as we watched him, for
the last time, play a basketball game. I don’t regret any minute I have spent with
him over the years playing, coaching, watching and traveling. It was important. Not because he needed to be a better
basketball player, but because he needed to learn about life and God. He has become a fine young Godly man, and I
am thankful God has answered those prayers.
A couple of days ago, we played again. He beat me in every game we played, but I
still thought about all those times through the years where we played each
other. I wondered if this would be our
last time to play each other one on one or if we would have another chance when
he comes to visit from college. As I
watched him dribble past me, I couldn’t help but see that little boy who
dribbled between his legs saying, “I’m Dirk Nowitski!” To me he is not Dirk. He is more than that. He is a young man who will soon be a Godly
husband and caring father. I will take
that over an NBA Hall of Famer any day.
Beautifully said.
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