Like most of you, I grew up playing basketball. Yeah, “playing basketball” doesn’t really do it justice does it? I was obsessed! My brother John brought me to a gym when I was 9 years old, and I remember staying for 4 hours playing this incredible game. The next day I stayed for 5 hours! Like many young kids, I dreamed of playing for a big college, making the NBA, and being a great basketball player. But, unlike most kids, I was willing to work harder than anyone else on the details that most people don’t want to work on.

Hundreds of hours were spent in my dark, dirty basement doing ball handling drills, thousands upon of thousands of shots were made in my back yard with no one else around. There were times when I would make a thousand shots (not layups) in one day! And if I got a lucky roll, it didn’t count. Details like left handed layups and dribbling, footwork, defense, quickness drills, and free throws were practiced for hours on end. Being the only kid in the gym was a normal occurrence for me. I was willing to do whatever it took to be great. However, I eventually had to learn a very frustrating lesson that Pat Riley stated perfectly:

“Hard work doesn’t guarantee you anything, but without it you don’t stand a chance.”

Isn’t that amazing? Sometimes (really often times) the hardest working kid on the team is on the end of the bench. It’s what makes basketball the most unfair game in the world: hard work guarantees you nothing.

I had a good high school career. I scored over 1300 points, had 36 points in one game, 19 points in one quarter–but all at a small Christian school. I never achieved the dominance I dreamed of, even at such a small level of high school basketball. I made a NCAA Division III college basketball team, and was on the team all four years—but rarely played. I had to watch players who didn’t touch a ball all summer play better than me every day in practice. The same guys who were out on Friday night while I was in the gym, were the same guys I cheered on while I was on the bench. Before my senior season started, my coach asked me to be a team captain. He told me that he loved my work ethic and example of leadership. Then, he told me something that I will never forget. He told me flat out that I wouldn’t play much that season. I accepted his offer, but my heart was crushed. Why had I worked so much harder than anyone else to sit the bench all the way up to my senior year? It wasn’t my coach’s fault. I didn’t play well enough to deserve time. Was all my work in vain? When “hard work doesn’t guarantee you anything” is it worth it??

Yes, it is! More than you could ever know, it is! All I want you to understand from this first article is that I understand very well what it is to work hard and sacrifice for the game of basketball. And even though I never achieved the greatness I hoped for, I wouldn’t give back any of the hours in my basement or back yard. I wouldn’t trade any of my years playing at Baptist Bible College for anything. Don’t misunderstand Pat Riley’s statement. Hard work does pay off. It simply doesn’t guarantee you the results you may be looking for. It may, and it may not. That’s the chance you take in life when you pour your heart into anything: a sport, your family, a girl—if you put everything into it, you may get your heart broken. That’s one of the great lessons the game of basketball can teach you. But regardless of the results, I can tell you from experience that hard work is worth every second of it.

Why is it worth it? That I will explain in my next article.

Until then, keep working hard!

Occh