Jungle Ball

I've always said that you can tell a lot about a man by playing a game of pick-up basketball with them. Not your Grandma's game of H-O-R-S-E on the driveway or a little shoot-around session in the morning, I'm talking down at the park or the community gym where the hardwood meets the highway and the ballers and the scrubs get separated once and for all. Watch a man play ball out there for an hour and you'll learn more about who he truly is then if you spent an entire day with him.

You play purely for pride, ten egos clashing with all the fury their testosterone laced competitive drives can provide while another group waits to replace the weakest five. Rough language, hard hits, and no referees, just a man and his integrity; it's a 94' by 5o'ft. preservation of wildlife.

This past Saturday I was playing, we had been running the court all morning, and everyone else in the gym wanted to take us out. During what would be my last game of the day we were losing as the other team was approaching on 13 (the point total to win the game). Suddenly my team started calling fouls on almost every shot we took. If someone did a scientific study, they would certainly find a direct correlation between the closeness of score and the number of fouls called. We called fouls to the tune of six in a row on one possession, so that we shot, missed, called a foul, only to get the ball back to lather, rinse, repeat. The other team soon got frustrated by this, words were exchanged, and at one point a fight almost broke out...I can't remember the last time that I played in a game where a fight didn't almost break out.

Christian brothers, we need to be lambs in the jungle.

How are we going to act or react in a situation where our competive drive is in opposition to keeping the peace? We think about what it means to be a man, and we think about strength. I read somewhere that part of being a man is having the strength to stand up for yourself and to not let others walk over you but I think this is false. Being a man, being a Christian man, is not standing up for yourself but to stand in Christ. We need to tand up for righteousness; stand up for Justice, but not for ourselves, because Jesus Christ "humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (Phil. 2:8) Check your ego at the door; the holy God of the universe became a man for sinner's sake. The next time you're at the gym, try to play a whole game without calling a foul for yourself or your team. See the difference it makes. Don't be a doormat, there are certainly many things that we need to stand up for, but so often the most Christlike for us to do to take the fall. If you want to really show off your strength on the court and in many other facets of life, take the hit and keep playing. In all humility, never compromise. Be strong enough to be walked on but never through.

A few years ago someone was critiquing my game and they commented that I played "too soft." I vowed not to call fouls for myself when I played so that I could get used to taking hits and so that I could become tougher. Not only was that one of the best things I've done for my game but also it's been the best way I can show Christ to those who I play with. During the heated moments of Saturday's game my man was guarding me tough and so I picked up my dribble in the corner. I was quickly double-teamed and in my attempts to escape I stepped out of bounds. In the struggle to fight through the double team and as they were reaching in trying to steal the ball there is no doubt I took a couple of hits, but when the play was over everyone just sort of stood there waiting for me to call the foul like everyone else had been doing. I know I surprised some people by jogging down the court to go play defense, I shouldn't have picked up my dribble in the corner.

After the game, one of the guys on the other team who had been the most vocal about his frustrations came up to me and told me that he had respect for me and the way I played. It's about finding ways to be different, to be an example of Christ. Not that I'm a saint or anything, I've been known to tackle middle schoolers and to give indistinguishable grunts as I push aside girls to spike an inflated volleyball on a lowered net. I can be a tad over competitive, but that's why they call me The Danimal.

Keep it real. In Christ,
Dj

Plea to the Muses

Give me a purpose
I will give you a rose
Give me a fight
I will give you a garden
Give me an idea
And an orchard will blossom.
I’ll give you the fruit of my passion
But please just give me a reason.

On The Way Home From Work

The light at
Wintergreen & Beach Blvd. is red
And so I stop.
A man with ragged clothes is on the corner.

He just stands there solemn and holds
A simple cardboard sign that says,
“I am human too you know.”

He calls himself a knight.
His sign, his shield;
His cup, his sword;
He fights the chilling wind
sweeping through the suburbs.

The way he looks it begs reaction.
My instinct is to look away.
But he is human too I know
And so I fix my eyes upon this man.
This man without a home.

His hair’s sun-bleached
His body’s burnt.
My face a frozen stare.
He sweats profusely.
It's hot outside
And suddenly I am cold.
I turn the A.C. off.

The warm red light turns green.
Its cold as cash and traffic flows.
And he is human too I know.
Yet even so, I press the gas and go.