The Time a Timeout was Called for Me
Reflecting on Flow, Momentum, and What To Do When They Come to a Grinding Halt
Once, a team took a timeout because of me.
I played in a recreation basketball league all four years of high school. Though we lacked the mesh jerseys, pre-game national anthems, and occasional scouts known in varsity world, we made up for it with pride. Our team was scrappy, unlikely, and a warm memory I hold dear to this day.
I played forward, and during practice I could be unstoppable. With nobody watching and nothing on the line, I dribbled with ease, I shot without overthinking it, and I had fun!
As soon as the middle school gym where we played our home games filled with a few parents, an official scorers table, and a mini-concession stand selling peanut M&Ms - I immediately sensed expectation. I became acutely aware of being watched. And most weeks this floored my game.
Suddenly, “unstoppable” became (maybe) a couple baskets and a couple rebounds per game. “Solidly average” was my normal contribution.
Except one time.
There was a game where we were losing by a a good 18 or 20 points. And once I began to feel I had nothing to lose - guess what?
I hit a shot.
Then another shot.
I drove the lane and made a nice layup.
I stole the ball from their team, and put up another nice floater.
I easily hit five shots in the span of a two minutes. And while a true comeback was still aways off, we were showing life. I was showing life.
I could sense the energy within. I could hear the energy of the fourteen or so sideline parents picking up as well.
And then it happened. Their team called a timeout.
Sure, timeouts to cool the “hot hand” are something one sees all of the time at every level of basketball. But, never once had anyone called a timeout because of me! Others ceased everything because “solidly average” had simply become too formidable, too unwieldy, too strong.
To this day, I can recall the strange and wondrous feeling of the moment when the other team, the other coach, the other fan base - this collective mass of consciousness, uniform, and pride - all agreed with one accord that the best thing they can do is stop everything because of me.
Truly, there is no greater compliment in the sport of basketball - or any sport. And I received the compliment precisely one time.
You see, the problem with this compliment is that it often works. It has a way of grounding the momentum.
The heartbeat slows.
Questions seep back into the brain (“can I/we really keep this up?”).
The dozen or so parents sit back down or run for more M&Ms.
And sure enough, post-timeout I returned to normal Bobby. I think I made one more shot that game, and we lost the game by a good amount.
This, it seems, is the nature of power. If a person, people, or organization begins moving…
fully into their gifts,
fully into their strength,
fully into something quite powerful and beautiful…
…maybe it won’t be the other team or even a direct competitor, but something in the universe will recognize the fullness of life that is now becoming sustained, and somewhere breaks will be applied.
Internal breaks.
External breaks.
Both.
One way or another the sustained momentum is not possible, and a barrier or resistance must and will arrive. As much as that timeout is a compliment, it is also the moment when we must discover a deeper resolve for moving forward, regardless of whether or not the shots keep going in.
“Just keep shooting” is often the advice basketball players give one another once the hot streak is over. The idea is that the only remedy to missing shots is to keep risking the gift you have - over and over. Keep offering the most fundamental aspect of your game.
We can surely come up with a few ways we might nuance or limit this advice (sometimes you need to work on form or learn to pass more etc), but I can say this much: as one who writes, Just Keep Shooting is some of the best advice around for the writing process.
It may be that we write a piece of fiction or poetry or music or insight of some sort that will bring the world to standstill.
All will pause long enough to hear the wonder of the words flying, flowing, and landing together just so. They will grab friends and strangers alike and say, “Stop what you are doing! Listen to this!”
The words will reach deep within souls, stop all of the internal clocks, and allow hearts feel something timeless even as time is never spoken of in the piece. Glorious it is when others slow their lives to witness and receive the life flowing through you.
But it simply will not last.
Obligations, jealousies, vanities, illnesses, and all the rest will rise irrepressibly from somewhere, somehow. Breaks will be applied. Then what?
Perhaps we begin by simply giving thanks that things had been so good that a timeout got called. That’s a huge compliment!*
And now the real work begins.
Can we close our eyes, and shut out
the critical voices in the stands (and within)…
the scorers table tracking what counts and what doesn’t…
the junk food that tempts us to walk off the court altogether…
…and can we simply trust the gift that is just that, a gift?
After all, we have nothing to lose when it comes to God-given gifts. The gift isn’t going anywhere. And like any gift, we honor it when we use it.
Just Keep Shooting.
And usually basketball players will also add,
The shots will fall again.
*Plus, for many good reasons, we ourselves often need the timeout more than we might first admit.
Very well written ; very preceptive to life's daily's issues!
This is the story of my life. It's also the story of my church. It's our attitude and our aptitude that will determine our altitude. Thank you for sharing your story.