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"That drives me crazy," my husband commented on Sunday afternoon.
It was halftime of the football game we were watching. I, being not too interested in the halftime show, had retired to reading my paper. But hubbie's comments focused my attention to what the sports broadcasters were discussing: a recent video showing one college football player flagrantly attempting to eye gouge another player who was pinned in a pile.
The coach had decided to suspend the player for a half-game after viewing the video tape ("Oooo," hubbie commented. "Suspend him for a half game against Vanderbilt. That'll teach him."). But what got under hubbie's skin a little was this comment from the coach as he was interviewed: "I don't condone that. I understand what goes on on the football field, but there's no place for that ... I spoke with him. That's not who he is ... He got caught up in emotion."
A female college soccer player, who was videoed repeatedly pulling hair, kicking, punching and elbowing opposing players in a recent match, is using the same type of language in her defense. She told the New York Times "I look at it and I'm like, 'That is not me,'. I have so much regret. I can't believe I did that.
I think the way the video came out, it did make me look like a monster. That's not the type of player I am. I'm not just out there trying to hurt players. That's taking away from the beauty of the game. And I would never want to do that."
It's that language that was driving hubbie a little crazy on Sunday. "Not who he is? Take a look at the video. If that's not who he is, he never would have done it, even with the emotion," hubbie said. "Better to say, 'That video showed me someone who I don't want to be. I apologize for my behavior. I've got some things to work on. I will be working on them.'"
Smart guy, that hubbie. As I thought about what he said, I thought about how exactly right he was. It's under pressure ... under intense emotion ... that my own ugly comes out bright and clear. Yep, I can hold the ugly in under most conditions. But it's when I'm frustrated with my family, or driving when I'm late to an appointment, or tired, or whatever, that Ugly Heather makes her entrance.
And it's so tempting to sweep UH under the rug. "That's not me," I protest. "I'm not like that." But, maybe, that's exactly who I am. That's exactly why I need a Savior. That's exactly why I continue to need to be sanctified.
My in-laws have a magnet on their refrigerator that reads, "Sports don't build character. They reveal it."
Perhaps for me it might read, "Life doesn't build character. It reveals it."
The next time Ugly Heather reveals herself (which, let's be honest, probably won't be that long from the time I end this post), I've got something to think about. Instead of protesting to God, "That's just not me!", I can say, "Please forgive me. Create in me a clean heart and a right spirit. Because that is me and it's not who I want to be."
I just got back from a luncheon with our local college football booster's club. We had two speakers, and they were a real study in contrasts.
First up was the football coach himself, who's mired in a nightmarish losing streak (nine straight games against Division 1 opponents): The calls for him to lose his job are mounting. He's still plenty determined and fiery as he does his best to keep players and fans motivated. Even so, it's obvious that he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The second speaker was the basketball coach, whose season is about to get under way. His team is riding a wave of good feeling, buoyed by exciting recruits who are joining a solid core of veterans, and the fans can't wait to see the season start. This coach was lighthearted, peppy, funny: He's clearly enjoying the game, and enjoying life.
Such are the ups and downs of coaching big-time sports at a big-time school. Two years ago, the coach's roles were reversed. The football team surprised everyone by going to the Rose Bowl, and the coach was a local hero. The basketball team slid downhill, and fans grumbled that the coach had to go. And so it goes, pretty much everywhere.
When things are going badly, I always feel sympathy for the coaches and their families. I also feel revulsion for many of the fans -- not the ones who are merely dissatisfied (that's legit), but the ones who gripe in a spirit that shows no regard for what the coaches and players are going through. I'm especially bugged to see that spirit among people in church. When they're talking sports, some of them don't seem to feel bound by Christian charity.
When times are tough, I'd love to see more people give the coaches a pick-me-up. And of course, the principle applies to every part of life besides sports. So let's play Barnabas. Look around and see who needs some encouragement. Odds are you won't have to look far. Odds also are that the simplest pick-me-up will mean a lot to them. A little encouragement goes a long way.
I don't know. Maybe it's me. But the list of people boldly speaking out against Christians (and Christianity in general) seems to be growing. I guess it's to be expected. But c'mon, sportswriters complaining about the Tim Tebows of the world expressing their faith? Lame.
From Tom Krattenmaker in last week's USA Today's opinion section:
Urban Meyer, Tebow's coach at Florida, has praised his quarterback's faith-promoting ways as "good for college football ... good for young people ... good for everything." Such is the rhetoric usually heard from those who defend sports-world Christianity as wholesome and harmless.
But should we be pleased that the civic resource known as "our team" — a resource supported by the diverse whole through our ticket-buying, game-watching and tax-paying — is being leveraged by a one-truth evangelical campaign that has little appreciation for the beliefs of the rest of us?
Krattenmaker's article is meant to incite people against Christians and Christianity. For example, he exaggerates a conversation between a Baseball Chapel leader and a player about his concern that his former girlfriend's soul is in danger to write, "Witness the incident with the Washington Nationals baseball team in 2005, when the Christian chaplain was exposed as teaching that Jews go to hell." Please, do go witness. Read the whole thing. You'll see that the only thing that's "exposed" here is Krattenmaker offense at the claims of the gospel.
On his blog last Friday, Dr. Albert Mohler calls this type of anti-Christian sentiment "undoubtedly a sign of things to come."
The belief that Jesus is the only Savior and that salvation comes only to those who come to Christ by faith is essential to Biblical Christianity. As Krattenmaker rightly observes in his book, when it comes to historic Christianity this belief is "hardly fringe or half-baked." Yet, it is precisely this doctrine that is so odious and inconceivable to the postmodern mind.
Dr. Mohler goes on to warn that sports isn't the only arena we'll begin seeing such outrage at biblical expressions of the Christian faith.
You can count on seeing these same arguments appear anywhere evangelical Christians express their faith in public or within ear-shot of those who may be offended. The belief that faith in Jesus Christ is necessary for salvation is now at the very center of secular outrage.
I guess the question for us in this increasingly hostile world, are we ready to stand?
Sports history was made this past weekend. I'm not sure it's the kind we should be celebrating.
The brutal and booming sport of mixed martial arts, Saturday saw the first-ever pay-per-view headlined by a women's title bout. MMA's two top female fighters went at it in a beauty-and-the beast match-up that was a fight promoter's dream: Gina Carano (really pretty) vs. Cristiane "Cyborg" Santos (really scary). Result: An intense 5 minutes where beast demolished beauty.
It's disturbing stuff on so many levels. It's disturbing because the whole sport is so violent. It's disturbing because of the violence the women are doing to each other and to their own femininity. But what's most disturbing to me, as a man, is that so many men are watching.
On a gut level, a man should be appalled by the sight of a woman being brutalized. These men are enthralled by it. What's their excuse? That it's a "fair fight?" That it's OK if it's not a man beating a woman, but two women beating each other? That it's the ultimate achievement of feminism, where women are free to be whatever they want to be and enlightened men should be delighted to watch?
Get real. You don't have to believe these men are misogynists or sadists. At the very least, though, they're desensitized -- or they're getting there fast.
Maybe some of them arestill horrified by violence against women: Maybe part of what drew them to this particular fight was a protective fear for the beauty Carano facing a mauling by the fearsome Cyborg. But whatever their reason to start watching, the more they watch, the more they'll get used to the violence. And that's really scary.
If you pay even a little attention to sports, you know who Tim Tebow is: University of Florida quarterback, Heisman Trophy winner, led his team to two straight national championships. You may also know that Tebow's very open about his Christian faith: He does missionary work (including prison ministry), and has been known to wear Scripture verses on his face. Which led a reporter at a recent press conference to ask him the sort of question people didn't used to ask. Here's one account of what happened:
You no longer need to wonder if the devoutly spiritual Tim Tebow is a virgin.
Now you know.
Responding to a question from radio reporters at SEC Media Days Thursday about whether he is saving himself for marriage, Tebow laughed initially and then said seriously, "Yes, I am."
When another reporter stumbled through and couldn't finish a follow-up question, the 21-year-old University of Florida quarterback laughed and said, "I think you're stunned right now. You can't even ask a question.... I was ready for that question, but I don't think y'all were."
Kinda makes you wish you were there, doesn't it? (You can, at least, listen to the tape.)
It's debatable whether a press conference was the place for that question. But the reporter who asked it insists that he wasn't trying to play "gotcha." On the contrary, he expected Tebow would answer that way:
Why did I believe this? Because Tebow lives his faith. And I believe that living his faith is not artificial, he's not pretending to be something he's not. Further, I don't believe that saving yourself for marriage is something to hide from. Not in the evangelical Christian faith that Tim Tebow practices in a Southern church and not in the evangelistic Southern church where I was raised.
At my Southern Baptist church, proclaiming that you were saving yourself for marriage was considered an asset, something to be proud of. Mothers bragged about their daughters or their sons public proclamation of chastity until marriage. Saving yourself for marriage wasn't something that people hid. They talked about it openly. In fact, people even wore tangible objects to reflect their purity, bracelets or rings that served as vivid evidence of their chastity pledges.
The reporter goes on to note that Tebow's response is more than just a personal choice: It's the sort of thing that can -- and maybe even (*gasp*) should -- influence other people's choices too.
I guarantee you come Sunday across the South ministers will approach their pulpits and use Tebow's virginity as an example to the flock. After all, if Tebow can resist countless girls throwing themselves at him on a regular basis, is it really valid for you or I or countless others to argue that preserving our virginity was just too difficult? Maybe. But I think it's much tougher. Like many things in life, it all comes down to a choice. And Tebow controls his own choices better than most.
That's the real story here: Tebow's willingness to be an individual in a time when it's easy to get lost in the crowd by making the popular decision. Good for him for standing up for his faith publicly, as he's done countless times before.
The only thing I can think to add is: Let's not make those Southern ministers do all the work. Let's all pitch in to spread this story -- and this message -- around.
I didn't know current British Open Champion Stewart Cink was a Christian. Though according to this blog from WORLD, the ABC announcers gave us clues last weekend during the telecast when they called him a "gentleman" and a "kind man" and a "good guy," which blogger Mickey McLean refers to as TV code for "Christian."
It was that nagging question believers often ask non-believers that haunted Cink for years -- "If you die today, will you go to heaven?" It's the ultimate question really. The kind that makes everything else seem, well, less significant.
For some, the effect doesn't last. For others, it produces a sort of eternal restlessness. That's how it was for Cink.
"I had to get the answer," he said in a 2005 interview posted at the Links Player International site. "I had to know more." (Links, by the way, is a ministry designed to "link" golfers from around the world in Christ.)
His wife, who was already a believer, helped him in finding that answer. And after becoming a Christian in 2000, Cink, who's had his share of ups and downs in his career, developed a whole new perspective on his game.
"I tell you what," he continued in the interview, "there have been times in the game of golf when I've been unhappy with the way I performed. But all I have to do is think about how trivial and insignificant it is to have a 75 one day when I think about what Jesus gave up for me. That puts it into perspective so quickly. If I didn't have that, if I'd never been asked the question, or if my wife had never kept it in front of me, today I may never have been able to put that kind of disappointment away."
Yes, Christ's sacrifice puts all things into perspective. But especially making a few bogeys on the golf course.
Relationships can really mess you up. Take professional golfer Sergio Garcia for example. In a USA Today article featuring Garcia and his return to the U.S. Open at Bethpage Black after nearly winning there in 2002, he talks about how his break-up with Greg Norman's daughter, Morgan-Leigh, has affected his game this year.
Garcia, who has slipped to No. 4, said in May that he has been reeling since his relationship ended with Greg Norman's daughter, Morgan-Leigh.
"A couple of personal things happened, and that didn't help," Garcia said about the state of his game. "Then, obviously, you lose a little bit of confidence, and it's harder to recover from that. When your head is not where it should be, it doesn't matter how much you practice, because you are not thinking about what you are doing.
Even when relationships are done biblically, there's almost always an emotional investment that requires healing if it ends. When they're not done biblically, they can feel like mini-divorces requiring a sports psychologist. (Not that Garcia needed one though.)
It'll be interesting to see how Garcia does this weekend. Especially given the focus required for a sport like golf where the slightest distraction can give you the yips .
On Saturday I completed the Country Music Half-Marathon in Nashville, Tenn. Did any of you run it? I figure there's a good chance, considering there were some 35,000 runners between the marathon and half-marathon. I got almost exactly the same time as on my last half-marathon (2:36 if you must know). But considering the 80 degree temperatures (and one truly evil hill near the end), I'm not disappointed. Not to mention, I got to run with my good friend Krishana.
There was a wonderful moment near the end of the race. After running up the final hill, I noticed a group of people. They stood at the corner cheering, waving signs and ringing cowbells. "You're looking strong," they shouted. "You're almost there." "Around the corner is all downhill." "Keep going!"
It reminded me of the cloud of witnesses mentioned in Hebrews: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us" (12:1). The writers of Scripture knew what it was like to be in a race. At that point--when the heat and fatigue and pain are conspiring against you--you really want to give up (at least I do!). You're hot and tired and the effort begins to feel like it's not worth it. But that is when the witnesses remind you: "You're almost there. Don't give up. A prize is waiting for you!"
Completing the race was an accomplishment. (You know this if you read my previous running blog post.) And, for me, it was more remarkable than for some. In 2000, due to a debilitating illness, I could barely stand from a sitting position, let alone run. I wrote about it in "Giving My Dreams." At that time, I may not have dreamed of running a half-marathon, but I dreamed of being independent, finishing school, moving out of my parents' house, getting a good job, being healthy enough to be a wife and mom someday. Those were dreams that God asked me to relinquish:
That night as I lay in bed feeling so helpless, I prayed. I realized I had been ignoring God because I believed He might ask me to do the unthinkable—drop out of school. I didn't believe that God could possibly have anything better for me than what I desired for myself.
That night as my roommate lay sleeping across the room, I agonized before the Lord. I cried out to Him in anguish. This time the solution was not in my pocket. In fact, it seemed far beyond my reach.
As tears rushed down my face, I told my Abba, Daddy, that I would drop out of college if that was His will. This was my Isaac. I knew God wanted me to give Him my future, my hopes and my dreams.
I don't know what your dreams are. Right now you may be ready to quit the race, feeling it's not worth it. Maybe you're at the bottom of that hill, and can't see an end in sight. Keep running! The witnesses are cheering you on. They have been where you are and are waiting to see what God will do in your life as you run faithfully. My witnesses were right: It was all downhill to the finish line, and it felt good to cross it.
There's a magnet on my in-laws refrigerator. It says "Sports don't build character. They reveal it."
I've been thinking about that saying this week after seeing story after story that seem to prove its truth. There are the good stories, like the high school basketball manager with autism or the high school basketball team who reached out to a grieving opponent. And there are the bad stories, like the drugs, the drugs and, well, the drugs.
But I really thought of that magnet while reading an article from last summer by Christine Brennan, a sports columnist and author. In "Progeny of Title IX Prove as Tough as Males", Brennan explains why she believes that Title IX has brought female athletes to the same level of toughness and strength as males:
One of the strangest traditions left in sports is our propensity to call female athletes "ladies," as if they are demure, tea-sipping, pinkie-extending wallflowers from a bygone era...
The LPGA isn't the WPGA, although it probably should be. Tennis drops in a "ladies" semifinal or final now and again, despite the fact that there's nothing dainty about a 120-mph serve. And figure skating still insists on calling its female athletes "ladies," even though, 14 years ago, the sport gave us Tonya Harding.
Brennan continues:
Because of Title IX, we have created generations of female athletes who are as strong and fearless as their brothers, if not more so...
Brennan gives multiples examples of female toughness: a WNBA brawl, female Indy-car racers who scrape paint on the track and soccer stars who shatter bones in World Cup competitions. And wraps up her article stating:
Go ahead and call them ladies if you want, but you'll be dating yourself. Title IX is doing its job, teaching our daughters how to compete. We might as well get used to it, punches and all.
Let's forget for a moment that Tonya Harding and brawling athletes should not be role models for either our young women or our young men. But, if sports reveal character, what do the current events in ladies sports tell us about what we're teaching our young women? Are we teaching them that men and women are the same? That there is no difference? That not only can be they be as strong, tough and fierce as men, but also they should be disappointed if they aren't?
Though my soccer and volleyball days have now morphed into more hiking and Pilates, I still love sports. And I encourage my daughter to be healthy through bike riding, dance, and basketball. But my husband and I both agree that there will be some sports she will not play. We will not teach her that she can only be proud if she's rubbing shoulders with the boys. We will teach her that there is absolutely nothing contemptible about a gentle and quiet spirit. We will not "get used to it, punches and all."
Maybe Brennan is right. Maybe there are no "ladies" sports anymore. I'm just not convinced that is a good thing.
It was quite a miracle when Kurt Warner, who had only recently been stocking shelves at a grocery store, took the St. Louis Rams from a season of only winning four games to their first Super Bowl win (and their first National Championship since 1951).
Nine years later, Warner has the potential to turn around another struggling team (that just happens to be the team that left St. Louis before the Rams came on the scene). The Arizona Cardinals won only half their games last season and only five the season before. The Cardinals have never won a Super Bowl. The Cardinals last won a National Championship in 1947 when they were based in Chicago.
Some would say, however, that the more inspirational turn around work Kurt Warner has done has been in the family arena--beginning with his own family. When Kurt met Brenda, she was a divorcee with two children including one who was blind and had brain damage. Brenda had also recently lost her parents when their home was destroyed by a tornado. Kurt 's compassion and commitment brought new hope to a family that had little. Since that time, Kurt and Brenda have welcomed five more children and have turned their money and fame into opportunities to invest in numerous other families (see KurtWarner.org).
To hear more of Kurt and Brenda's story, tune into the Focus on the Family broadcast this Friday, January 30th (more details here).
I love it when I see God's kingdom in everyday things — like high school football games. My friend Becky posted this story on her blog. "I think Kris Hogan makes God smile," she wrote. I agree. Consider this story on ESPN: They played the oddest game in high school football history last month down in Grapevine, Texas. It was Grapevine Faith vs. Gainesville State School and everything about it was upside down. For instance, when Gainesville came out to take the field, the Faith fans made a 40-yard spirit line for them to run through. Did you hear that? The other team's fans? They even made a banner for players to crash through at the end. It said, "Go Tornadoes!" Which is also weird, because Faith is the Lions. It was rivers running uphill and cats petting dogs. More than 200 Faith fans sat on the Gainesville side and kept cheering the Gainesville players on—by name.
This unusual behavior took place at the request of Faith's head coach, Kris Hogan. You see, Gainesville is a maximum-security correctional facility and every game they play is on the road. Hogan wanted to do something kind for the team. So Hogan had this idea. What if half of our fans — for one night only — cheered for the other team? He sent out an email asking the Faithful to do just that. "Here's the message I want you to send:" Hogan wrote. "You are just as valuable as any other person on planet Earth."
The parents agreed. And though Faith beat Gainesville 33-14, the Gainesville players acted like they'd just won state, giving their coach a celebratory squirt-bottle shower. After the game, both teams gathered in the middle of the field to pray and that's when Isaiah [Gainesville's quarterback] surprised everybody by asking to lead. "We had no idea what the kid was going to say," remembers Coach Hogan. But Isaiah said this: "Lord, I don't know how this happened, so I don't know how to say thank You, but I never would've known there was so many people in the world that cared about us." And it was a good thing everybody's heads were bowed because they might've seen Hogan wiping away tears.
Well done good and faithful servant.
He won't get the chance to hoist the Vince Lombardi trophy this year, but Tony Dungy is still going out on top following his retirement from NFL coaching this week. I was moved by how effusive journalists have been in praising Dungy during this departure, both in commentaries and even straight up newswire stories.
One of my favorites was a Wall Street Journal blog:
Tony Dungy is known almost as much for his devotion to family and faith as he is for his 13 seasons as head coach in the NFL, six in Tampa Bay and seven in Indianapolis. It was in the Hoosier State that Dungy became the first African-American coach to win a Super Bowl, when the Colts defeated the Bears 29-17 in 2007.
“Simply, his NFL legacy will be that he won football games the right way. He won them while maintaining his humanity,” Bob Kravitz writes in the Indianapolis Star. “He won them while insisting his players connected with their community. The NFL has long been the province of petty tyrants, of control freaks who rule through intimidation and fear. Or they sleep in their offices and live myopic existences, unaware of the world beyond their walls. Dungy wanted to change all that, or at least show the world that a coach could win a different way. He succeeded.”
“Too often coaches act like lunatics as they stomp the sideline in over-the-top rage. Dungy, often in his Colts blue sweater vest, was a neighborly exception. It was never about him, just the team,” Dan Wetzel writes on Yahoo Sports. “You can’t be a NFL head coach without ego and ambition, but this was not about the glory of Tony Dungy. He was not a look at me, look at the genius, kind of figure. He proved that you could win by working with players, not just shouting at them.”
If Dungy wanted the glory, you could expect his ego to give him no other option than to come back next year and find a way to beat those pesky Chargers in the playoffs the way he finally overcame the pesky Patriots in 2007 -- but he's fine to leave that challenge to Jim Caldwell while he pours himself into more meaningful pursuits.
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