I ought to be ashamed of myself...

This past weekend I coached my city’s high school boys basketball team in a tournament near our state’s capitol.  While one may think the fact we went the entire competition without notching a single victory renders the two days rather unremarkable.  He would be wrong.

The weekend was quite remarkable.

Upon hearing about the dust-up I had with one parent following one of our losses, one may even think that was the only noteworthy occurrence of the weekend.  After our second game a father of one of my players confronted me in the doorway of the gym and told me I ought to be “...(expletive deleted) ashamed of (my)self as a coach and as a man...”  

He was upset because he didn’t think his child got enough playing time (truth be told, I believe he was mostly upset because someone else’s child got more).  He clearly and emphatically stated and restated (and then summarized and repeated again for good measure) his position and then walked away with his hands raised saying, “I don’t want to hear it...ashamed...you should be ashamed...” as I tried to converse with him.

But, as “noteworthy” as that may have seemed to some of the spectators nearby, it wasn’t the biggest take-away from the weekend, either.

I had a 90-minute drive home to replay the situation in my head.  Should I be ashamed of my coaching?  Should I be ashamed of myself as a man?  

The rest of the night I mulled his words and carefully examined myself, my performance, my motives, etc.  We haven’t been a very successful team this summer if we’re measuring by wins and losses.  Perhaps I am a shameful coach.  His son did play less than others.  Maybe I am a shameful man.

Funny thing is, I wasn’t ashamed -- not even in the slightest.

That night many of my players stayed in a hotel.  During the evening I received multiple text messages from the boys -- some of about the games, some just letting me know what they were doing, etc.  Some of the texts, though, were from the guys explaining how they had some interaction with players from other teams...and how those players were using all sorts of foul language and engaging in less-than-appropriate behaviors.  One text read:  “Sad. We just waved and walked by. Sad they feel they have to be that way.”

The next morning brought another loss...but, this time, it came with more player-to-player encouragement.  With several hours before our next game, many of the guys just sat together in the gym.  I never heard them offer a disparaging comment about any other players or even a cross word about the officials.  In fact, at one point (between games), an errant ball was heading directly toward my wife who was unaware.  One of the boys jumped from the bleachers and intercepted the ball, then took his seat again as if nothing had happened.

Ashamed?

Ashamed of what?

No.  No sir.  I am not ashamed of what we’re doing.  It may not be pleasing everyone and it may not be winning championships...but...it is putting down roots and encouraging a different way of thinking and acting.  The boys are “getting it” slowly but surely.  I will never be ashamed of that.

But, even that isn’t the most noteworthy part of the weekend.

The most noteworthy thing is I realized I have nothing to be ashamed of!

My life, although littered with accomplishments and recognition, is also been one of shame.  I am ashamed the youth center I run is as small as it is.  I am ashamed I am as heavy as I am.  I am ashamed I live in a run-down farmhouse.  I am ashamed I never became “somebody” in my chosen profession.  I am ashamed of the long list of things I am ashamed of!

Perhaps you can relate.

This weekend, though, opened my eyes to a whole new way of seeing.  Once I had someone TELL me I ought to be ashamed, I guess my human nature bristled at the notion and resisted.  Instead of embracing that criticism and scouring my life for reasons to be ashamed, I decided to look at reasons not to be.

• I was investing in worthwhile relationships.   

• I was modeling upright behavior. 

• I was demanding excellence of effort (not of outcome). 

• I was attempting to plant seeds of positive attitudes.

• I was giving of myself with no thought of getting anything in return. 

• I was understanding getting a “win” is sometimes not as important as growing the will.

By no means am I writing this in hopes of garnering any praise.  This is totally a self-revelation-type thing.  MAYbe the key for me beating a lifetime of early-onset shame is found in how I approached this weekend.

Maybe it can help you, too.

Take the bullet points above and check yourself.  I bet you’re already doing many of those things.  Even if you’re not, reexamine them...you’ll notice none of them are actually too difficult to do.

Perhaps you ought to be proud of yourself.