His Hand is Open

 

It’s got to feel as empty as Lake Lanier in North Georgia during the recent drought.  In an unprecedented Olympic sequence, both the US men’s and women’s 4 x 100 relay dropped the baton on the last leg of their qualifying heats.  In less than a few seconds, years of anticipation and hope were over.  Done.

 

 

I can’t imagine the disappointment and pain that both teams must be feeling even now; laying awake and staring at the ceiling wondering how their pass failed.  Tyson Gay, the premier US sprinter who would like to forget Beijing exists, seemed almost dazed as he spoke with the commentator after the race. 

 

Some journalists state it’s a lack of cohesiveness that produced such lackluster performances, others say poor training.  Both seem viable factors to diagnosing our athlete’s maladies.

 

Passing the baton remains one of the best images to illustrate our responsibility as fathers.  Today, more than ever before, we must engage in what author and speaker Robert Lewis describes as “strategic parenting”.   Lewis identifies three options for fathers to raise sons:  abandoned, involved, and strategic.  Some dads abdicate their responsibility altogether, a trend my wife sees everyday as a teacher in the public school system.  Other fathers stay admirably involved by attending athletic events, paying for lessons, helping homework, etc.   A small percentage, however, dedicate themselves to launch their “arrows” (Psalm 127:4) with tactical, premeditated planning – not unlike the  dedicated Jewish fathers of old who prepared their sons to participate as adults at an early age.   Strategic dads instill industriousness, establish accountability, and build character so that their boys can become men.

 

Dennis Rainey, author and president of FamilyLife, describes three junctions in a young man’s life where the father cannot fault in passing the baton, these are:  adolescence, college, and in marriage.  I wrote Teknon and the CHAMPION Warriors (www.championtraining.com) to equip fathers to transition their sons through the first junction and into young adulthood.  Whether it’s Teknon, another tool, or a father’s own creative approach – strategic “passing” through the landmarks Rainey identifies must occur.

 

Don’t look back, like the USA athletes, wondering how and why the baton dropped with your son.  Get strategic and make an effective pass.  He’s already out of the blocks and his hand is open.

We vs. Me

 

The Beijing Olympics seem to be unfolding as two stories; the first an exciting compilation of humble heroics, the other an erratic display of brilliant individual-egoistic ability.  I’m speaking of the two most highlighted categories:  swimming and track.

 

I lost sleep for a week watching Michael and Company change Olympic history time and again.  And although I’m a “Phelps Phan”, in awe of the training, discipline, and DNA driven ability of the man of the hour – I was captured by the harmonious effort of the men’s’ relays, where teamwork and mutual encouragement contributed to the defeat of staunch competition. 

 

 

 

 

I have, on the other hand, battled nausea watching the outrageously gifted Usain “Lightning” Bolt.  Never in the history of track has an individual so dominated the record books in Olympic Games.  Never has a runner revealed such innate speed and agility. When the gun fired for the 100 meter final Bolt ran like mercury in man form, almost gliding down the lane.  He was well ahead of the other runners and seemed destined to break the world record.  And then it happened.  With almost 30 meters remaining in the 100 event, he relaxed, looked around, and beat his chest in self acclimation as he crossed the line.  Did he break the world record?  Yes.  So why are commentators, journalists, and water cooler conversationalists now shaking their heads over the fastest man in history?

 

 

We love harmony because it’s us against them, or for something important.  We also expect ourselves and our heroes to give their best when their best is needed.  It’s not just Bolt’s self-acclaim that makes us twinge; it’s the fact that he could have gone faster without the antics, much faster.  We wanted to see him give every ounce effort and press every tendon to the end.  Instead his finish was more of a shallow boast than a thing of beauty.

 

 

Rick Warren hit the nail when he started his book, The Purpose Driven Life with the brilliant line, “It’s not about you.”  That statement rings true, in sports and in life. 

 

Are you listening, Lightning?  It’s not about me, it’s about we. 

Harmonious Supercharge

 

If you were up late last night you probably saw one of the greatest races in sport history.  The United States 4 x 100 men’s freestyle team came from behind, against every prediction, to steal the gold medal from the trash talking, overconfident “Four Frenchman of the Apocalypse.”  If you haven’t seen it, and even if you have, click on the link below and enjoy the moment:

 

http://www.nbcolympics.com/video/share.html?videoid=0811_HD_SWB_HL_L0194

 

Of course we’re impressed with the amazing athleticism of Michael “Superman” Phelps and wish him well on his quest towards the record for gold medals.  But it’s 32 year old Jason Lezak, anchor of this historical event, who has for the moment stolen the heart of his counrtry.  Here’s a quote from Lezak after the race:

 

It’s happened to me all my career that people would get on my lane line and suck off me,” Lezak said, “so I figured this was one opportunity in all my career to do that. … I’m not going to lie. When I flipped at the 50, it really crossed my mind for a split second that there was no way. Then I changed. And I said, You know what, that’s ridiculous at the Olympics. I’m here for the United States of America. I don’t care how bad it hurts or whatever. … Honestly in five seconds I was thinking all these things. I got like a supercharge and took it from there.

 

The Olympics are at their best when moments like this race occur that offer a glimpse into what drives our heart desires when it comes to harmonious participation.  In this case the French spent the past few days declaring their intention to “smash” the Americans in this event.  Our boys were underdogs by every account including those made by USA commentator Rowdy Gaines when he said, “I’ve analyzed this race every way possible and every time it comes up France.”  Phelps held his own on the first leg, followed by all out efforts from the next two swimmers. But even with valiant effort on the first three legs, Lezak had to overcome a full body length on the world’s fastest swimmer, a giant of a man who had beaten Lezak on several occasions.  In the last 50 meters of the anchor match, Lezak pushed with monumental effort to help his team beat the “enemy” and smash the world record by three seconds.  The jubilation after the final touch was enough to pump a quart of adrenalin through any American’s veins. 

 

The point is – how does life get any better than offering our best in harmony with others to accomplish a noble and worthy task?  As I said, athletic events like this (and that of Eric Liddel in Chariots of Fire) give us a glimpse of what we long for – to be at our best when our best is needed.  I encourage you to use this amazing example of heart and harmony as a discussion opportunity with your son.