I will preface this post with this: I was the 17u head coach of the the Minnesota Comets AAU program for six years. This post is the product of my observations while working within the AAU circuit, coupled with my observations since leaving AAU last winter.
If you're high major D1 or have money falling out of your pockets, this post is not for you. You should play AAU as constituted. If you're the former, you're probably not paying to play AAU anyway. If you're the latter, well, congratulations and carry on.
Game on.
Here are the things about AAU basketball I feel are of great benefit to players:
1. Playing. I have a hard time buying into the rationale that playing more is hurting our players. The issue is that playing has been viewed as a replacement to practice and training, which it should not be. The issue is not playing. Players get better by playing.
2. A new, different coaching voice. I've always felt this was one of the best reasons for playing AAU. A player's HS coach, by nature, will approach a player in one way or another. They point out the flaws they see in that player. They will give their individual advice to that player. An AAU coach can provide a different voice and different advice. I consider that healthy, constructive criticism.
3. Playing against the best. To me the single best reason to play AAU is to get your ass kicked. There are few places that players can go to get beat. AAU is one. If you don't learn a lot about yourself in those moments where you know the guy across from you is better, then this is the wrong game for you. The best learn from the best.
4. Comraderie. I've witnessed life long friendships built through AAU; I've made life long friendships through AAU. Spending weekend after weekend in gyms, hotels, pools, cars, and planes is a great way to get to know people. That comraderie is what I will always cherish from my time in AAU basketball.
Here are the things about AAU basketball I feel are not of great benefit to players:
1. There is far too much emphasis placed on scholarships and the level which players end up at. I did it. I touted our D1 guys. I touted our D2 guys. I didn't necessarily tout our D3 guys. (And, I'm a D3 guy!) It's how AAU programs get their next crop of talented players. It is the AAU program's resume. Players and parents would rather know that you have put players into scholarhsip situations than that you won event x or y. Wins are insignificant. Scholarships are significant. Level is significant. Right fit is insignificant. I've had far too many of players that I coached transfer down a level because they were swooned by the loot and not a career. I always say to players, "would you rather tell your grandkids about your playing career or your scholarship".
2. There is too much money being wasted in the system. The majority of players do not need to play 50 games in 10 events during the off season. The majority of players do not need to spend $3,000-$5,000 for those 50 games. The majority of players do not need to play in national events. I, personally, think AAU is a terrible financial investment for 90%+ of families. If you're good enough, make the investment. Most aren't good enough.
3. The exposure players received is over-hyped. Yes, you're right there are college coaches standing over there watching this game. They are there. Do they have your son or daughters correct contact information? Is it accurate? Did your college aged AAU coach turn it in on time? Did the event coordinator put it into the book properly? Did the event coordinator sell that info to the coaches for $200? It's true, coaches do watch AAU games. They (coaches) are the lifeblood of AAU. If they come, you can build it. That said, the world is getting smaller every day. Very few stones are left unturned by college coaches. The only prerequisite to a scholarship is being good enough for the coach to invest in you. That's it; it's that simple. Good players get scholarships. AAU is not a prerequisite. The exposure comes from being a good player, otherwise you are actually being exposed. That is an important distinction.
4. AAU takes up too much family time for the return families receieve. It replaces family trips to the lake, to Yellowstone, to the Boundary Waters, to the Twins game, etc. I played HS basketball in a different era. We played one or two summer tournaments with our HS team. I will never forget the family trips my family took during my teenage years. The rocky mountains, southwestern deserts, Minnesota lakes and everything in between shaped the person I am today far more than the thousands of hours I have spent in a gym. AAU seems to forget about life outside of basketball. There is life outside of basketball.
Fix it.
AAU can be fixed. It has the framework in place to be fixed. In my opinion, the action falls on both the clients (players) and the vendors (programs).
Play in less events. This will allow for other activities. Those activities will still include skill development, open runs and countless hours of shooting for the most dedicated. The less dedicated shouldn't be playing 10 events anyway.
Quit playing national events. In seven years of coaching very talented AAU teams, I had 7 out of 60 players get D1 scholarships. Two of them have transfered back to play D2 in Minnesota. And, we were a program that had good success in regards to over all recruitment. Don't forget this: We are lucky to have one of the best D2 leagues (NSIC) and two of the best D3 leagues (MIAC/WIAC) in the nation right in our backyard. What are you running from, and what are you running to?
Practice more. Reducing the volume of events and distance to these events should allow for more practice time and more in-depth practices. One practice a week in between events doesn't cut it. I did it, I know it doesn't cut it. They forget the stupid SLOBs, BLOBs, gimmick D's and Sets you put in anyway. Focus your practice time on their skill and knowledge development. Challenge your coaching skills. Make them better players.
Tell players what they need to know, not what they want to hear. Be honest. The best thing you can do is be honest; not biased, I said honest! And, that means you, all of you: the parents, aau program directors, aau coaches, media, college coaches, friends, extended family, handlers (I get the creeps just writing that), etc. Challenge the player in your life to be a better player.
Change will come. The saturation point is nearing. Too many share my sentiments. That said, it won't happen over night. There is a money making machine in motion. Change the game. Demand a better product. Demand a product that fits the masses, not the 10%.
The key is to play, not to pay.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Exorcise the Player
One of the hardest things for a young coach to do is to separate their former, playing self from their current, coaching self. It seems like something that doesn't, or at least shouldn't matter all that much. I think it does. In fact, I think that most people wrongly associate 'good player' with 'good coach'. I'd contend that the better, the more dedicated the player, the harder it will be for that person to become a good coach. They are two completely different animals. Playing and coaching have one thing in common: basketball. After that, they're not all that alike and require a completely different subset of talents and abilities. A player is a player. A coach is a coach.
It takes conscious effort to exorcise the player. I still haven't completely figured it out. I was an above average Division III player, but by no means exceptional. That said, I occasionally have a hard time explaining how a player should do something. I can show them. I know what it feels like to do it, but explaining the action is the hard part. Former players also have the tendency of assuming their players know things and/or glance over small details that have become second nature to them. If you're going to assume anything in coaching, assume they don't know. I've definitely improved; it's been conscious. I still catch myself going down the delusional road of "hey kids gather 'round while I embellish my dunk on so-and-so or how I gave so-and-so 30". It may be a fun road to venture down, but it's not coaching.
Coaching is teaching, which in some cases is showing, but is more often verbalizing. It's explaining what the player did wrong and what changes they should make to right the wrong. Former players, that haven't effectively exorcised, have a tendency to get frustrated when players can't do something the way they did. The frustration should be their own. Their frustration should be based on the fact that they can't effectively teach the action rather than placing it on the player that cannot perform the untaught action. It's even worse when players don't have the "drive", "dedication", and "love" for the game that the former player, now coach, had. That always sets off the former player. Often, the former player's vision of their drive, dedication, and love is distorted in their favor. They were more likely very similar to the player they are now scolding. Nonetheless, as coaches, it's somehow become our job to implant the impression that we cared more then than they do now. It's the old "I walked uphill both ways to school" approach. I'm not sold it works. Instead, try keeping the focus on them. Talk about their effort and how they can improve it. Keep your glory days out of it. They no longer apply.
And, therein lies the rub. How do we, the former player turned coach, let go of our basketball glory so we can teach? How the heck do we do that? Consciously, that's how. You have to let your playing career go. Go ahead, keep the headlines and box scores in a scrapbook. Let your mom keep the newspaper clippings on her refrigerator. Google your records and show your kids. Do all of that. Keep those memories alive. But, keep them out of your new gym. You have a job, and it's not playing, it's coaching.
Exorcise the player and exercise the coach.
It takes conscious effort to exorcise the player. I still haven't completely figured it out. I was an above average Division III player, but by no means exceptional. That said, I occasionally have a hard time explaining how a player should do something. I can show them. I know what it feels like to do it, but explaining the action is the hard part. Former players also have the tendency of assuming their players know things and/or glance over small details that have become second nature to them. If you're going to assume anything in coaching, assume they don't know. I've definitely improved; it's been conscious. I still catch myself going down the delusional road of "hey kids gather 'round while I embellish my dunk on so-and-so or how I gave so-and-so 30". It may be a fun road to venture down, but it's not coaching.
Coaching is teaching, which in some cases is showing, but is more often verbalizing. It's explaining what the player did wrong and what changes they should make to right the wrong. Former players, that haven't effectively exorcised, have a tendency to get frustrated when players can't do something the way they did. The frustration should be their own. Their frustration should be based on the fact that they can't effectively teach the action rather than placing it on the player that cannot perform the untaught action. It's even worse when players don't have the "drive", "dedication", and "love" for the game that the former player, now coach, had. That always sets off the former player. Often, the former player's vision of their drive, dedication, and love is distorted in their favor. They were more likely very similar to the player they are now scolding. Nonetheless, as coaches, it's somehow become our job to implant the impression that we cared more then than they do now. It's the old "I walked uphill both ways to school" approach. I'm not sold it works. Instead, try keeping the focus on them. Talk about their effort and how they can improve it. Keep your glory days out of it. They no longer apply.
And, therein lies the rub. How do we, the former player turned coach, let go of our basketball glory so we can teach? How the heck do we do that? Consciously, that's how. You have to let your playing career go. Go ahead, keep the headlines and box scores in a scrapbook. Let your mom keep the newspaper clippings on her refrigerator. Google your records and show your kids. Do all of that. Keep those memories alive. But, keep them out of your new gym. You have a job, and it's not playing, it's coaching.
Exorcise the player and exercise the coach.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
AAU Buyers Guide
Quick advice before we start: Yes, do it, play AAU. Play for the fun of the game, the love of competition and the desire to get better. Do not play for exposure or scholarships. Parents, do not view this as an investment into a potential dividend (scholarship). It is an investment into your child's basketball career. The experience is the dividend.
The 5 questions I would ask an AAU vendor, complete with 20 follow up questions:
1. Can you tell me about your program? Let them tell their story
-How long have you been in existence? Experience is very important
-Are you a non-profit or for profit organization? Good to know
-How are you funded (player payment or sponsorship)? Also good to know
-Who has played for you in the past/Where are they now? Not dire, but interesting
2. How much does it cost to play?
-What does the fee cover? Clarify what you get
-What doesn't it cover? Clarify what you don't
-Do you offer scholarships, and if so, how are they awarded? Some do, some don't
-Do you offer fund raising? Some do, some don't
3. Where are practices held? Important detail often overlooked
-How often are they held? Understand your expected time commitment
-Do multiple teams practice together? A must to ensure adequate numbers during dog days
-Are they required? You don't want to find yourself on a practice-optional team
-Is there individual skill time involved? A lot tout it up front, but few actually do it
4. What is the event schedule? Make sure your schedule fits THE schedule
-Who is responsible for travel arrangements? This varies from program to program. Ask who.
-What is an excusable absence? Consequences for spring sport, prom, family vaca, etc?
-Is the schedule final? Some programs have a hard time finalizing their schedules
-What takes precedence, the HS team or the AAU team? This can be a major issue, discuss it
5. Who is the coach? If possible talk with them directly, let them introduce themselves
-What is his/her experience coaching? Obviously important
-Experience coaching AAU? Half of an AAU coaches role is in planning/administration.
-How are teams chosen? Are they created or is there a try out?
-What is your playing time philosophy? Some play all, some play some
The 5 questions I would ask an AAU vendor, complete with 20 follow up questions:
1. Can you tell me about your program? Let them tell their story
-How long have you been in existence? Experience is very important
-Are you a non-profit or for profit organization? Good to know
-How are you funded (player payment or sponsorship)? Also good to know
-Who has played for you in the past/Where are they now? Not dire, but interesting
2. How much does it cost to play?
-What does the fee cover? Clarify what you get
-What doesn't it cover? Clarify what you don't
-Do you offer scholarships, and if so, how are they awarded? Some do, some don't
-Do you offer fund raising? Some do, some don't
3. Where are practices held? Important detail often overlooked
-How often are they held? Understand your expected time commitment
-Do multiple teams practice together? A must to ensure adequate numbers during dog days
-Are they required? You don't want to find yourself on a practice-optional team
-Is there individual skill time involved? A lot tout it up front, but few actually do it
4. What is the event schedule? Make sure your schedule fits THE schedule
-Who is responsible for travel arrangements? This varies from program to program. Ask who.
-What is an excusable absence? Consequences for spring sport, prom, family vaca, etc?
-Is the schedule final? Some programs have a hard time finalizing their schedules
-What takes precedence, the HS team or the AAU team? This can be a major issue, discuss it
5. Who is the coach? If possible talk with them directly, let them introduce themselves
-What is his/her experience coaching? Obviously important
-Experience coaching AAU? Half of an AAU coaches role is in planning/administration.
-How are teams chosen? Are they created or is there a try out?
-What is your playing time philosophy? Some play all, some play some
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
I'll buy that
Why do coaches always talk to their teams about buying in? And, why do players have such a hard time actually doing it?
We all have a notion of what buying in means. It is giving your self to your coach and teammates. Buying in to a team is the epitome of selflessness. In order for it to work, all the members of a team need to do it. One under-miner and the whole thing falls apart. Think of a team as a chain on a bike. When intact, the bike functions perfectly and propulsion is the result. If one link in that chain fails, or in this case when players choose themselves over the team, the bike goes nowhere. It remains in place, no propulsion, no progress, and no wins.
So, if we all understand and truly believe this "buying in" cliche to be true, why is it so hard for young men and women to actually buy in? That is simple. Our sports culture is built on the star. They are given hero status, idolized for their individual ability. Rarely do we hold the team player, the bought in, on high. Young men and women are raised on this reality. They want to be the star; we all want to be the star. Driveway fantasies never involve the team player, they always result in the star, you, making the game winning shot. Has anyone ever been selfless enough to fantasize about taking a charge or setting a screen in their driveway? Nope. That doesn't exist. We are all selfish to a degree. We all want to be the star.
The single most important thing to overcome is the selfishness we are all taught. Coaches have known that their chief enemy is the selfish player forever. If the enemy is known, why then can't all coaches get their teams to buy in? A known enemy should be easy to defeat. Selfishness is a different kind of enemy though. It cannot be scouted. It can never be eliminated. It is omnipresent. How do you get ahead of it as a coach? The elixir lies in communication. Simple communication. Repeated communication. "We are going to be three things: tough, incessant and honest". Simplification of the message. Give players something they can understand. Give them simple and clear instruction as to why your practice plan and the drills within it are important. Explain to them what each drill is building for today, and why the skills learned will be necessary for tomorrow.
You must foster the buy in with your team. Take the names off of the shooting shirts. Take the names out of the program. Value and reward buying in. That means valuing and rewarding what you are teaching in practice. Don't value stats, unless stats are what you preach. If you preach effort, value and reward effort. You really want players to buy in? Foster it. Reward what is in your plan. Stick to your plan. Train the way your players think about the game. Change what they think is worthy of reward. Make all rewards and repercussions team based. And, always use "we" and "us", and make them do the same.
Players, buying in will eventually fall onto you. Each of you have a chance to aide or derail your coach. You have all the power. Concern yourself with yourself and you all lose. Buy in and everybody wins. Winning is remembered. Box scores end up on refrigerators, at your moms house. Wins never fade. There is no ink to fade. Wins remain in the memories of you and your teammates. They are forever.
Do me, and your coach, a favor and stop talking shop with your friends and family. Unless of course you want to talk about the values outlined in your coaches plan. When someone says, "why didn't you play more?" You say, "we played, we won, and it sure is fun to win." Never let your friends and family put doubt in your individual buy in. Shoot, get your friends and family to buy in too. It takes a great teammate to fully buy in. Hang your hat on that. Tell your friends and family about other team members that have fully bought in. Make it about the collective "we" and never about "me".
Buying in has become cliched. And sports cliches have become taboo. Cliches though, are often sound in message and meaning. That is why they have been replicated so often and why they continue to be used. Buying in is a cliche that ought to be continued. It's merely been misused, and often attempted and failed. Keep trying. It's worth it. Selfless, team first players and honest, "we" based coaches win, and win, and win. So, winning is directly tied to buying in? I'll buy that.
We all have a notion of what buying in means. It is giving your self to your coach and teammates. Buying in to a team is the epitome of selflessness. In order for it to work, all the members of a team need to do it. One under-miner and the whole thing falls apart. Think of a team as a chain on a bike. When intact, the bike functions perfectly and propulsion is the result. If one link in that chain fails, or in this case when players choose themselves over the team, the bike goes nowhere. It remains in place, no propulsion, no progress, and no wins.
So, if we all understand and truly believe this "buying in" cliche to be true, why is it so hard for young men and women to actually buy in? That is simple. Our sports culture is built on the star. They are given hero status, idolized for their individual ability. Rarely do we hold the team player, the bought in, on high. Young men and women are raised on this reality. They want to be the star; we all want to be the star. Driveway fantasies never involve the team player, they always result in the star, you, making the game winning shot. Has anyone ever been selfless enough to fantasize about taking a charge or setting a screen in their driveway? Nope. That doesn't exist. We are all selfish to a degree. We all want to be the star.
The single most important thing to overcome is the selfishness we are all taught. Coaches have known that their chief enemy is the selfish player forever. If the enemy is known, why then can't all coaches get their teams to buy in? A known enemy should be easy to defeat. Selfishness is a different kind of enemy though. It cannot be scouted. It can never be eliminated. It is omnipresent. How do you get ahead of it as a coach? The elixir lies in communication. Simple communication. Repeated communication. "We are going to be three things: tough, incessant and honest". Simplification of the message. Give players something they can understand. Give them simple and clear instruction as to why your practice plan and the drills within it are important. Explain to them what each drill is building for today, and why the skills learned will be necessary for tomorrow.
You must foster the buy in with your team. Take the names off of the shooting shirts. Take the names out of the program. Value and reward buying in. That means valuing and rewarding what you are teaching in practice. Don't value stats, unless stats are what you preach. If you preach effort, value and reward effort. You really want players to buy in? Foster it. Reward what is in your plan. Stick to your plan. Train the way your players think about the game. Change what they think is worthy of reward. Make all rewards and repercussions team based. And, always use "we" and "us", and make them do the same.
Players, buying in will eventually fall onto you. Each of you have a chance to aide or derail your coach. You have all the power. Concern yourself with yourself and you all lose. Buy in and everybody wins. Winning is remembered. Box scores end up on refrigerators, at your moms house. Wins never fade. There is no ink to fade. Wins remain in the memories of you and your teammates. They are forever.
Do me, and your coach, a favor and stop talking shop with your friends and family. Unless of course you want to talk about the values outlined in your coaches plan. When someone says, "why didn't you play more?" You say, "we played, we won, and it sure is fun to win." Never let your friends and family put doubt in your individual buy in. Shoot, get your friends and family to buy in too. It takes a great teammate to fully buy in. Hang your hat on that. Tell your friends and family about other team members that have fully bought in. Make it about the collective "we" and never about "me".
Buying in has become cliched. And sports cliches have become taboo. Cliches though, are often sound in message and meaning. That is why they have been replicated so often and why they continue to be used. Buying in is a cliche that ought to be continued. It's merely been misused, and often attempted and failed. Keep trying. It's worth it. Selfless, team first players and honest, "we" based coaches win, and win, and win. So, winning is directly tied to buying in? I'll buy that.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Promote and Preserve
Every program should use social media to it's advantage. To forbid is to admit failure in education.
Being the leader of a basketball program today requires a policy regarding social media. In my opinion, simply forbidding social media is not a policy at all. It shows a lack of trust in player and a lack of trust in one's own leadership/educational abilities.
If I were to write a team social media policy, here is how it would read:
1. Social media is a part of our lives. We will, as a program, embrace the positives it can provide and educate against the negatives.
2. Require the following simple social media rules for players:
a. During the season, you make your avatar something related to the team.
b. When tweeting/posting about the team, or a game, or a practice, I would request a simple, team chosen hash tag be used. I always liked #C4L or #WEgo. I really like Coach Cross's choice down at UT-Arlington, #CAWT or Championships Are Won Today. Something along those lines. I think that stuff is just cool and creates a fun vibe around your program.
c. While playing for a team supported by an educational institution, you are forbidden from publicly complaining about school on social media. Nope, sorry, you cannot write "missing The Voice tonight to study for this stupid biology test tomorrow #FML" any more. The team is inseparable from the institution. Not to mention, it makes you look like a buffoon.
d. Easy one: you will never publicly undermine a coach or player within our program or any other program.
e. Avoid and/or limit swearing (notice a missing word? forbid). I choose to use cuss words and see them as a part of our language. Parents can forbid swearing if they want, or promote it for that matter. Not my job. That said, there is effective and excessive swearing. Swearing for swearing sake is childish. Refrain from that.
f. Guys, keeps the girls off of your feeds. Girls, keep the guys off of your feeds. We all have been there. Court on young ones, but do it privately. No need for "My boyfriend/girlfriend is the best"; because, what is the alternative, "my boyfriend/girlfriend sucks"? Say it to them, not us.
3. Always remember the rule of the "every last follower" or "every last friend" before hitting send. Every one gets to see everything.
4. Be mindful about what you re-tweet or like. You instantly attach yourself to whatever it is that you are re-tweeting or liking.
5. Create a team wide reward/reprimand social media system. One idea would be:
Every week without an infraction, you add a pizza to the end of the year party. Or for you high rolling college programs, add a shoe (or pair of shoes) for every good week. Then for every infraction you take away what ever they in turn earn for good weeks. If the team pizza party only has 2 pizzas this year, you will know that you probably should have forbidden social media, and did a poor job of leadership. The goal is to set a team based incentive program that will inspire them to self-police, and ultimately use this tool wisely.
6. Do use these tools for promotion. Ask your players to follow/friend their school itself and other pertinent localities. Social media can create, or enhance, the sense of community.
7. Ask players to send one positive, team based message each day. Challenge their creativity. I think this one would be particularly fun to try.
Social media is an amazing tool and one that basketball programs should not ignore; and never forbid. 'Promote and Preserve'. Promote your team, your school and your self. Preserve your team's, your school's and your individual integrity.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Love it or like it?
Love is a word we throw around with such frequency that there is no way we really mean to use it in the way we use it. We should probably start substituting "enjoy" or "like" a little more often. We can't really love all the stuff we say we do, can we? To like something is pretty clear cut. Why isn't it enough to just say we like something? There is nothing wrong with that. Why do we feel the need to profess our love for everything? First of all, it cheapens the word and how it relates to the things you truly do love (e.g. spouse, kids, family, etc.). Secondly, I don't think most people are actually being truthful when they say it. Unfortunately, especially when referring to basketball. In fact, my experience has told me that most people within the basketball realm really do like the game (they don't hate it), but they don't love it.
It's easy to say that you love your wife or husband, another family member or any other person for that matter. That kind of love is somewhat engrained; not perpetual as we all know, but engrained from our childhood. It's pretty easy to see why we love people. They give something back. Our love (we hope) is returned. Therefore, loving a living person is easy. Well, maybe not easy, but you know what I mean. We can all do it.
Having love for an inanimate object on the other hand is tricky. More than tricky even, it is damn hard work. Inanimate objects give nothing tangible in return. They don't say "I love you" back. They don't return a hug or kiss. They don't send you love letters, or sext with you (Have never used that in writing before today). Your return for loving them is internal. Whether or not your love is returned is entirely up to you, not them. Inanimate objects, like the game of basketball, can definitely be loved. They can be. But most of you don't. Most of you won't. Most of you just like it. (Not that there is anything wrong with that)
The people and players I have come across that have a true love for the game are different. They do get a return for the love they profess to the game. You and me, we can't see it, but they feel it. They continually give to the game because they get a return for their love. Their love has been confirmed. These people live the game. They dream about it. They eat it, drink it, sleep it, run it, jump it, teach it, play it, live it. It's never unimportant. The game is always watching; as if the game is an energy that surrounds them. It doesn't matter where they are; in an empty gutted barn turned gym or a jam packed arena, the game is what they love.
Players that love the game, love the gym, and all that the gym represents. They love ball handling drills. They know that time given to the craft of controlling a basketball is important. They have learned to love what those ball handling drills provide them; the power to go places. They love shooting; whether alone, with a rebounder, using the gun, wherever. They know that time spent shooting will lead to more made shots. They have learned to love the sound of the net more than the sound of the rim. They love conditioning. They know that everything erodes in basketball when you get tired. They have learned to love not being tired; the feeling that they could play all day. They love coaching. They know that while self evaluating is important, outside, critical evaluation is more important. Loving players love every aspect of the game, and furthermore realize it's importance.
Loving players DO NOT let their mouths (or fingers) express their love for the game. They let their actions do it. They don't tell you they are going to condition: they show you they did in the 4th quarter of a March game. They don't tell you they are going to the gym to workout: come the season, their game has improved. They don't undermine coaching: they accept it as it is meant to be; simply something to improve upon. They don't tell you they love the game: they show you they love the game. Remember, the game is inanimate. It does not read your texts or tweets; it does not hear you. The only person that can return your love for the game is you.
It's easy to say that you love your wife or husband, another family member or any other person for that matter. That kind of love is somewhat engrained; not perpetual as we all know, but engrained from our childhood. It's pretty easy to see why we love people. They give something back. Our love (we hope) is returned. Therefore, loving a living person is easy. Well, maybe not easy, but you know what I mean. We can all do it.
Having love for an inanimate object on the other hand is tricky. More than tricky even, it is damn hard work. Inanimate objects give nothing tangible in return. They don't say "I love you" back. They don't return a hug or kiss. They don't send you love letters, or sext with you (Have never used that in writing before today). Your return for loving them is internal. Whether or not your love is returned is entirely up to you, not them. Inanimate objects, like the game of basketball, can definitely be loved. They can be. But most of you don't. Most of you won't. Most of you just like it. (Not that there is anything wrong with that)
The people and players I have come across that have a true love for the game are different. They do get a return for the love they profess to the game. You and me, we can't see it, but they feel it. They continually give to the game because they get a return for their love. Their love has been confirmed. These people live the game. They dream about it. They eat it, drink it, sleep it, run it, jump it, teach it, play it, live it. It's never unimportant. The game is always watching; as if the game is an energy that surrounds them. It doesn't matter where they are; in an empty gutted barn turned gym or a jam packed arena, the game is what they love.
Players that love the game, love the gym, and all that the gym represents. They love ball handling drills. They know that time given to the craft of controlling a basketball is important. They have learned to love what those ball handling drills provide them; the power to go places. They love shooting; whether alone, with a rebounder, using the gun, wherever. They know that time spent shooting will lead to more made shots. They have learned to love the sound of the net more than the sound of the rim. They love conditioning. They know that everything erodes in basketball when you get tired. They have learned to love not being tired; the feeling that they could play all day. They love coaching. They know that while self evaluating is important, outside, critical evaluation is more important. Loving players love every aspect of the game, and furthermore realize it's importance.
Loving players DO NOT let their mouths (or fingers) express their love for the game. They let their actions do it. They don't tell you they are going to condition: they show you they did in the 4th quarter of a March game. They don't tell you they are going to the gym to workout: come the season, their game has improved. They don't undermine coaching: they accept it as it is meant to be; simply something to improve upon. They don't tell you they love the game: they show you they love the game. Remember, the game is inanimate. It does not read your texts or tweets; it does not hear you. The only person that can return your love for the game is you.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
"Free" play
My whole childhood was made up of games. Playing games. Some of the games we'd all recognize, with rules and fields. Some of them we made up on the spot. Most of which were played outside, in parks, or streets, or backyards, or school lots. We lived outside. We lived in those games. Basketball, baseball, football, street hockey (yes, even hockey), and a million modifications of those games. If we only had a couple of people we found a way to play football (we called it interception), or basketball (21) or baseball (whiffle ball, or it's evolutionary elite, lemonball). That wasn't it though, there was also tag, cops 'n' robbers, ghost in the graveyard, rock picking at the construction sites down the road; innumerable games. We played all day, every day. I don't have childhood memories of being too tired to go out and play, and no memories of being bored. I don't remember being told that we couldn't go out. Sure, we played organized sports, but the time spent being told what to play and where to play it paled in comparison to the time we spent in what I would call "free" play. Where has that all gone? Where are the kids playing? I drive by empty park after empty park. Where has "free" play gone?
I think we all know where it has gone. It's gone inside. Into our emotionally and physically insulated houses. The kids are still playing; but their inside, on their butts, with some sugary snack and a can of pop in their hands. They are playing video games. They are watching TV. If kids are lucky these days, they play "organized" sports. Do they ask to stay inside? Better question: do we ask them to go out? Or, are we afraid of what might happen? Is there a fear of where our children's imaginations might take them? Or, are we all afraid of our children being abducted? I went to school with Jacob Wetterling. God bless him, and all that his family have been through, but are we so afraid that that may happen to our child, that we protect them from their own imagination? The truth is, that could happen again. That will happen again. But, that can't be it, can it? There has to be more to it. By that rationale, we ought to pull our children out of schools for fear of another random school shooting. Bad things happen to wonderful, innocent people. And, yes, there are awful people in the world. But, isn't fearing life sending our kids the wrong message? I refuse to believe that we are a society so scared of what could happen that we block our children from the joys of what will happen.
I grew up in a dream world. My mother was working as an RN for the U of M, while my father was studying law there. Because of that, we were granted acceptance in a child's paradise. The U of M student housing was an absolutely awesome place to grow up. We used to have 9 on 9 baseball games when I was 5 years old. Nine on nine! In a park. Not organized by anything other than that undying urge to see what was going on outside your house. Who wanted to be inside? Every person living in these concrete walled, tile floored boxes had children; it was a requirement. A glorious requirement. Children from Iceland, Ghana, England, Portugal, South Korea, Saudi Arabia and every other corner of the earth. Needless to say, the pot luck's were insane! Not that a 5-year old experimented all that much. So, there were kids everywhere. Kids playing, freely. That's what we did. Parents only involved themselves as the all-time pitcher or to yell that it was dinner time (in all kinds of different languages). They didn't fear. If anything, we were encouraged to get out. Go. Play. Explore. Imagine. Have fun.
I am, by no means, the perfect father. I'd like to believe that I am, however, an aware one. I have a 6 year old boy and a 2 year old girl. They have spent their fair share of time playing video games, watching movies and cartoons, playing on the computer or ipod. I'm as much of a victim of this sedentary society as you are. It's too damn easy to take the easy way out. I am trying though. I'm trying real hard. (Jules from 'Pulp Fiction' voice) I want my kids to be able to ride their bikes to the park and play something, anything. When they get there, I want there to be other kids, with different versions of games, with different imaginations, from different backgrounds. They need that. We, as parents, need that. We should spend more time playing with our kids instead of just telling our kids to play. We need to show them how to play, what to play, and allow them time to play. We get selfish as parents. If we put on a cartoon, we in turn have time to read the paper, or dive into the computer, or do the dishes. Our parents had things they needed to do too, but I feel like the world I grew up in was different, as stated above, and somehow better. Don't we all want better for our kids than what we had ourselves? Isn't that THE mantra of every parent, ever? That is our jobs as parents. To provide. Not just provide shelter and food, but to also provide time and space for fun. We can change how our children play. Start a "free" play movement. Teach your kids some of the games you played as a kid. And then, play those games with them. Let them teach you games they learn at school. And play them. Gather the neighborhood kids and play some touch football. Be the leader. Don't expect your kids to ask for this. Give this to them. We are a lazy people; too lazy for our own good. We love quick and convenient food, we love exercising in gyms instead of outside, we love sitting on computers, we love looking at our phones, we love high definition television, but we also love our kids. I'd contend that the combined love for all other things in life would come up short in comparison to the love you feel for your children. If we grew up with "free" play and yet, still ended up as card carrying members of this static society, what will our increasingly static children become? Can we live with that result?
Another recent phenomenon in our society is the specialization of sport, or a single sport youth. When someone reaches their adolescence or adulthood and decides of their own volition to focus their time and energy on a single sport, great. Good for them. They made an adult, informed decision. When a parent decides for a child, at increasingly younger and younger ages, that they will be a single sport athlete, that is a problem. That is wrong. That is criminal. Multi-sport athletes, in my opinion, are so much more well rounded. What generally happens is as parents realize that Bobby or Sue are good at something they cut them out of the activities that they aren't as good at. It's an epidemic. It's a controlling parent epidemic. Kids aren't quitters. Parents are boasters. If Bobby is great at football, but average in basketball, why keep him in basketball? If Sue isn't quite getting the handle of lacrosse, but is a great long distance runner, why not spend all that extra time at running camps? Because, the losses, that feeling of not being the best, will make them better people. Not just better athletes, but better people.
Free play will create better self esteem, better athletes, healthier children, deeper thinkers, more creativity, a love for the outdoors, and a sense of community. The kids are our community. Kids should not need constant supervision at the park. Almost every child at the park these days has a parent watching with a hawks eye over them, ensuring they wont have a negative experience. Bumps, scrapes, races run and lost, being "it" in tag for too long, etc are all things we isolate our children from. You went through those things and made it through just fine. Why can't they? We are creating bubbles around our kids. Kids that grow up in bubbles, will eventually live in bubbles. It is time to allow our children to be children. Let them play, free as they want to be.
I think we all know where it has gone. It's gone inside. Into our emotionally and physically insulated houses. The kids are still playing; but their inside, on their butts, with some sugary snack and a can of pop in their hands. They are playing video games. They are watching TV. If kids are lucky these days, they play "organized" sports. Do they ask to stay inside? Better question: do we ask them to go out? Or, are we afraid of what might happen? Is there a fear of where our children's imaginations might take them? Or, are we all afraid of our children being abducted? I went to school with Jacob Wetterling. God bless him, and all that his family have been through, but are we so afraid that that may happen to our child, that we protect them from their own imagination? The truth is, that could happen again. That will happen again. But, that can't be it, can it? There has to be more to it. By that rationale, we ought to pull our children out of schools for fear of another random school shooting. Bad things happen to wonderful, innocent people. And, yes, there are awful people in the world. But, isn't fearing life sending our kids the wrong message? I refuse to believe that we are a society so scared of what could happen that we block our children from the joys of what will happen.
I grew up in a dream world. My mother was working as an RN for the U of M, while my father was studying law there. Because of that, we were granted acceptance in a child's paradise. The U of M student housing was an absolutely awesome place to grow up. We used to have 9 on 9 baseball games when I was 5 years old. Nine on nine! In a park. Not organized by anything other than that undying urge to see what was going on outside your house. Who wanted to be inside? Every person living in these concrete walled, tile floored boxes had children; it was a requirement. A glorious requirement. Children from Iceland, Ghana, England, Portugal, South Korea, Saudi Arabia and every other corner of the earth. Needless to say, the pot luck's were insane! Not that a 5-year old experimented all that much. So, there were kids everywhere. Kids playing, freely. That's what we did. Parents only involved themselves as the all-time pitcher or to yell that it was dinner time (in all kinds of different languages). They didn't fear. If anything, we were encouraged to get out. Go. Play. Explore. Imagine. Have fun.
I am, by no means, the perfect father. I'd like to believe that I am, however, an aware one. I have a 6 year old boy and a 2 year old girl. They have spent their fair share of time playing video games, watching movies and cartoons, playing on the computer or ipod. I'm as much of a victim of this sedentary society as you are. It's too damn easy to take the easy way out. I am trying though. I'm trying real hard. (Jules from 'Pulp Fiction' voice) I want my kids to be able to ride their bikes to the park and play something, anything. When they get there, I want there to be other kids, with different versions of games, with different imaginations, from different backgrounds. They need that. We, as parents, need that. We should spend more time playing with our kids instead of just telling our kids to play. We need to show them how to play, what to play, and allow them time to play. We get selfish as parents. If we put on a cartoon, we in turn have time to read the paper, or dive into the computer, or do the dishes. Our parents had things they needed to do too, but I feel like the world I grew up in was different, as stated above, and somehow better. Don't we all want better for our kids than what we had ourselves? Isn't that THE mantra of every parent, ever? That is our jobs as parents. To provide. Not just provide shelter and food, but to also provide time and space for fun. We can change how our children play. Start a "free" play movement. Teach your kids some of the games you played as a kid. And then, play those games with them. Let them teach you games they learn at school. And play them. Gather the neighborhood kids and play some touch football. Be the leader. Don't expect your kids to ask for this. Give this to them. We are a lazy people; too lazy for our own good. We love quick and convenient food, we love exercising in gyms instead of outside, we love sitting on computers, we love looking at our phones, we love high definition television, but we also love our kids. I'd contend that the combined love for all other things in life would come up short in comparison to the love you feel for your children. If we grew up with "free" play and yet, still ended up as card carrying members of this static society, what will our increasingly static children become? Can we live with that result?
Another recent phenomenon in our society is the specialization of sport, or a single sport youth. When someone reaches their adolescence or adulthood and decides of their own volition to focus their time and energy on a single sport, great. Good for them. They made an adult, informed decision. When a parent decides for a child, at increasingly younger and younger ages, that they will be a single sport athlete, that is a problem. That is wrong. That is criminal. Multi-sport athletes, in my opinion, are so much more well rounded. What generally happens is as parents realize that Bobby or Sue are good at something they cut them out of the activities that they aren't as good at. It's an epidemic. It's a controlling parent epidemic. Kids aren't quitters. Parents are boasters. If Bobby is great at football, but average in basketball, why keep him in basketball? If Sue isn't quite getting the handle of lacrosse, but is a great long distance runner, why not spend all that extra time at running camps? Because, the losses, that feeling of not being the best, will make them better people. Not just better athletes, but better people.
Free play will create better self esteem, better athletes, healthier children, deeper thinkers, more creativity, a love for the outdoors, and a sense of community. The kids are our community. Kids should not need constant supervision at the park. Almost every child at the park these days has a parent watching with a hawks eye over them, ensuring they wont have a negative experience. Bumps, scrapes, races run and lost, being "it" in tag for too long, etc are all things we isolate our children from. You went through those things and made it through just fine. Why can't they? We are creating bubbles around our kids. Kids that grow up in bubbles, will eventually live in bubbles. It is time to allow our children to be children. Let them play, free as they want to be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)