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Tag Archives: Sports

Wooden’s 2-2-1: Would it Win Today?

30 Wednesday Mar 2022

Posted by Bill Watkins in Basketball, Poetic Blog, Sports

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Basketball, Bruins, John Wooden, Joy, Love, March Madness, Peace, Sports, UCLA

UCLA1

Anyone who knows Coach Wooden’s philosophy knows the answer to the question the title of this article poses…

Yes.  Of course.  Wooden wins in any age or era because success is still a peace of mind resulting from knowing you did the best you could to be the best person you were capable of becoming.

Best person, on and off the court.  Win all day long.  Win every day, like Lou Holtz!

***

So why don’t any of today’s NCAA men’s basketball coaches copy John Wooden, run a 2-2-1 fullcourt press all game-long as his UCLA Bruins did to the tune of ten national championships?  Why not plagiarize, if there’s no rules against that and the system still works?

It could work, if a coach was as humble and spiritual as John Wooden.  Such a coach could instill that humility and spirituality in his or her players, emphasize the name on the front of the jersey over that on the back, and decide that college student athletes aged eighteen to twenty-three are going to run every moment they’re on the court.

They would be the best conditioned team in the land, as Wooden’s Bruins were.  They would start out with some fair players over-achieving, then the best high school players would come.  Winners attract.  Never mind recruiting, they’ll come to play for the best conditioned, most over-achieving, hardest working team in the NCAA because that’s where the trophies are.  Where the lessons thrive.

Where real men and women who can contribute something great to this world are born.

Sportsmanship in College Sports: Heckling

02 Sunday Feb 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in College, College Sports, NCAA, Poetic Blog, Sports, Sportsmanship, Volleyball

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

BYU, College, College Sports, CSUN, Gauchos, Heaven, John Wooden, Joy, Love, NCAA, Peace, Rainbows, Respect, Sports, Sportsmanship, Success, UCSB, Victory, Volleyball

Sportsmanship1

by Bill Watkins, Gaucho ‘94

***

Watching UCSB play BYU in Men’s Volleyball last night on my computer reminded me of my own playing days, and also of some great matches I’ve been a part of as a fan.  As usual, the crowd at BYU was amazing!  Spirited, a full house, generally pretty wholesome… Except, it seemed, when you got close-ups of a UCSB Gaucho going back to serve the ball, and behind them you could swear there was a good amount of venomous, mean-spirited heckling.

Could have been an illusion, and without knowing what the fans were yelling, I cannot prove to certainty that a bad spirit had invaded the Smith Fieldhouse there in Provo—but nothing would surprise me less.  Heckling and rooting for bad things to happen to opposing teams is unfortunately acceptable fan behavior in every college sports arena not ruled by an iron Christian fist.

I myself, over the years, have engaged in many heckling fests, hear hecklers around me at most sporting events I attend. CSUN in the San Fernando Valley used to be bad, Hawaii can bring it good and bad, and BYU has for me the most spirit in NCAA men’s volleyball.  It just all needs checking, administrating, and… shall I say it?  Prayer. Meditation.  Sports like all other areas of life made better by appealing to Higher Power, “Good Orderly Direction” (G.O.D.), and anything else that leads to Peace of Mind.

John Wooden was the best coach that ever lived.  Not because he was great, but because the power unto which he prayed was, his philosophies and execution of them guided by goodness, humility and hard work.  A spiritual man… We could all be so, ascend toward the straight and narrow, to in sports that grand second title, one the NCAA and other leagues should always celebrate as much as any other trophy: one for… Sportsmanship.  Respecting your opponent as fellow travelers on this ship, “Hail, friend, well met!  Good luck today, we’re aiming to crush you on the court.  But that’s our spiritual challenge, and I’d like to shake your hand after the match win or lose, revel in one more day we got to live here!”

That’s right, as you live you realize how precious life is, and how many people (and dogs) we’ve loved who are not with us anymore.  In that context, adding to common sense and decency, I root for all competitors to have peace of mind, to succeed at their sport in the John Wooden sense.  I root for the UCSB Gauchos a lot because I attended that school and played volleyball for the team, and when we compete against you, I’ll be rooting and hoping we win.  Then I check myself, knowing the power is in us to win every single match we play!  If we play right, root right, have a mix of fun and respect, and if heckle we must, may we do it somehow light-hearted and with cheer.

The ultimate victory is still heaven, isn’t it?

Orange Court

11 Saturday Jan 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Sports, Volleyball

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

AVP, Beach Volleyball, Joy, Love, Manhattan Beach, Memories, Mike Dodd, Orange Court, Peace, Poem, Poetry, Sports, Sports Poem, Tim Hovland, TVC, Volleyball

Orange Court Image1

I hope it’s Wednesday, ‘cause
then we could see the pro’s play.
Hov and Dodd coming down,
I’ve called some friends from Costa,
Torrance Volleyball Club yielding
fun in the sun, for me a trip across
downtown worth the traffic, this
is Orange Court.

The Beach is Manhattan, the view
always pretty, the picture… snap it
like the wrist on top of the ball,
another off the lip, the wave breaks,
sometimes clear enough we can
see a fish, swimming with the tide,
Rusty boards,

I’ve got a five ten in mind, dude like
a stick figure conjuring Reggae music
on Brett’s boombox, gathered under
Bobby’s umbrella and chair, waiting
for the pro’s to play, finding a court
for our game, maybe Dodd will set
some hitting lines—

This is Orange Court.

The eighties were fun, full of color
on the beach.  Fluorescent memories
to match the vibe heading for college
dreaming of aces and gold medals—
championships, maybe from right
there off Marine Avenue, make a line
down from 23rd—

This is Orange Court.  Hov’s court;
you want “on” it, pay the price, get
through the traffic, play like the fish
with the tide, snap one off the top
of the block, pick your Frohoff one
surfing the other carving cut shots,
waking up as the Pasadena over-
achiever challenges all-comers
to play their A game.

That’s all I ever had to show for
it, rated “A” in SoCal because I got
to the Finals of an A-rated Marine
Avenue event, Cooker from Costa
on the call, chased down an impossible
ball, picked it up, like Andy McGuire
at home against BYU,

“Billy Watkins from Pasadena” yells
the man, Tomy from Spain, we took
it very seriously our game, never forget
the 6-4 side switch with a grunt they
could hear on Highland, the grunt that
says we’re winning this match.  I took
my A on Marine,

On Orange Court.

Pyongchang 2018

26 Monday Feb 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Olympic, Olympics, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Winter Olympics

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Beijing 2022, Bode Miller, Figure Skating, Gold Medal, Hockey, Ice Hockey, Lindsey Vonn, Olympics, Pyongchang, Pyongchang 2018, Shaun White, Shiffrin, Skating, Snowboarding, Sports, USA, Winter Olympics

Winter Olympics 2018 Collage

Mike Pence should get her a
hot dog, for what else is the Games but
a chance to be human and celebrate
life?

She came from the North, sister to
a Korean prince, and during sixteen
some-odd days there was peace
on the Peninsula—

And why not?

Wasn’t that why we had a United Nations
after the horror of two world wars?

We forget to love—that being the doom
of man, that and calling ourselves
“Christian” while we talk of waging
war and giving bloody noses to people
we don’t want armed and nuclear, again
forgetting our own arsenal, that log in our
eye picking at our neighbors’ splinters.

Pyongchang, rhyming with the North’s
Pyongyang—for sixteen days one unified
Korea in a glimpse of what could be,
the shining face of sports for all to
see.

The North’s delegate above the American
“vice president,” so why he doesn’t look up
is a mystery, unless the awakening alludes
him, the one that taps us all on the
shoulder at different times in life to say:

“We are all human.”

Pence missed the first moment to win
the gold of brotherly love.

***

There are always two prizes in sports,
the trophy, the “win,” and the one we
garner when we shake hands—the friendship,
the nod for sportsmanship.

One Korea, a unified team brings tears to eyes
of people who love peace, while folks
who talk and believe in war and division poke
holes and criticize.

One day at a time.

***

Shaun White, Shaun White, the red mop
flying in the night, now with less hair full of
passion, focus and talent, a final jump into
the abyss that can kill on the way down,
“Gravity” thwarted but not beat, Einstein’s
bent space curling gold for the U.S.

Lindsey gets what she needed, another medal
like Bode’s in 2014, a great bow with Julia
covering events for channel four Los Angeles.

Athletes from Russia were tough as always in
the Winter Games, but Norway being Norway,
Sweden and the Dutch on fire.

Canada came to play, but the U.S. ladies borrowed
the gold back in hockey, the men as good
except in penalty shots, which require flare,

the Russian lady skaters showing plenty,
ballerinas on ice, old school beauty, while
jump obsession infected many skates minus
the spirited Adam Rippon putting art first.

American guns shoot children, while
activists debate murder as self-defense.

Meanwhile in Asia are lost arts and philosophies
of the martial kind.

The Sage is fully self-aware, aware of surroundings,
and is ready to help—abhors lethal weapons;
has no real use for them.

The preference in self-defense is never killing
but the restoration of peace!

***

And so the hot dog not bought, the frown
of the Pence in front of the sister of
the Northern Prince.

A sense of humor, a poem, a joke—anything to
cut tension was and is the gold we want
as we snowboard toward another medal
ceremony in winter snow, White’s tears
melting on the close of another Games,
four years in the making, four years from
the next time to make the snow light up
in Olympic flames.

We are at peace, and for those who are not
may we make a prayer.

The two trophies for achievement
and friendship, may you have them both;
Shaun White with three golds now, amended
for the little trash talk in Vancouver, grown
up and back from a misstep in Sochi.

He is the Most Valuable Athlete in the Games
for me, though you may put yours forth.

We watched Shaun grow up, and may he
help the next generation shine.

May we all rise up beyond our sports and
put love into every corner of the Earth.

It is not what we get that counts as
much as what we give.

“America First” dies gloriously when we embrace
humility and generosity.  God sees the lowliest
effort and rewards, so give up keeping and guarding.

Give all you have. Reach one more time past what
you think you have, because a power greater
than yourself has more.

Appeal.  Receive.  Reach for the finish line,
and make a lot of friends along the way.

A little life is lived every time the Olympics
torch is lit.

As this Olympic Games ends, I grieve a little
bit but gather steam to tackle my life
with the gold medal spirit I just saw on
display, a Korea unified in Peace.

Pray for the warriors and guard Olympic
flames and dreams for the young and small
just for today.

Jump into the stands and hug your mom.

Vow to never lose like that again.

Thank God for the win.  For weather in
your favor.

For being the best GS skier in the world,
but realizing that effort may leave you weaker
in another discipline!

We are so human!!  Wait, did your see the
Russian girls skate?  Maybe we are sometimes
angelic!!!

We strive to overcome our shackles and restraints,
Shaun White one more time off the pipe…

Land, squat, Repeat.  We lost a bobsledder.

Land, squat. Repeat.

See you in Beijing…

Land, squat.  Repeat!

Sports Addiction — Not Funny

14 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Addiction, Sports, Sports Addiction

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Addiction, Sports, Sports Addiction

–by Bill Watkins 3/14/2017

Addiction Cycle

I have about a week of total abstinence from sports.

Some are laughing. Think this is funny, like passing out on alcohol or drugs on a Friday night.

I thought a lot of things were funny, that turned out to be life-threatening. Lost friends to alcoholism and drug addiction.

And sports?

It’s hard to find the words for wasted time. Time and energy spent trying to “beat” others, “defeat” others, and deceive others.

In most sports, Deception is a key element. A key thing learned and taught to gain advantage over other people, other teams or players.

At forty-four years of age, only a week abstinent from any sports involvement, I can report several problems with my past sports playing, coaching and supporting:

1. Unwanted Visions/Dreams/Nightmares

Volleyballs flying, tennis court visions, making plays—all irrelevant to my current life, and unwanted.

2. Physical injuries

I have a bad shoulder, knee from sports playing.

3. Alienation of Loved Ones

While my family of origin are addicts like me, my wife used to feel left out and puzzled by my sports obsession.

She used to comment, once while I watched the Olympics day and night on TV that she felt clearly that I was “addicted.”

***

I hope my unwanted sports visions will go away over time.

I think of the John Nash story, and of his walking away from unwanted visions and hallucinations, one day at a time.

I declare total abstinence from Sports today.

Join me, call me and reach out. Let’s walk away from the violence of sports to help others find blankets and a home tonight.

—Bill Watkins, Sports Addict

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