Growing up with two older brothers meant I never got anything new. I was always dished secondhand items:clothes, sporting equipment, and toys. My big day came when I was eight years old and my dad bought me a new lacrosse stick. It was a glorious moment. The lacrosse stick glowed from newness. That experience marked me as a young athlete. It passed through my hands first—not second, third, or fourth!

God does not want our secondhand glory. Secondhand glory is taking credit when God should be getting the credit first. It is subtle. As athletes, it is easy to take credit because we are always getting it from teammates, coaches, and fans.

On Monday we shared the story of Texas Rangers' All-Star Josh Hamilton, whose career was initially derailed by drug and alcohol addiction. After several stints in rehab, he was still unable to escape those vices under his own power. Looking back, he admits he didn’t realize how he was hurting those closest to him as his life revolved around satisfying his craving for more drugs and alcohol. Once he hit bottom at his grandmother’s home in 2005, his heart was opened to God’s love and how much he needed Him to overcome his addictions and heal the brokenness in his life.
 

Wait. One of the worst words in the English language, isn’t it? That’s where I am right now. Waiting. It’s my senior volleyball season, and I’ve been out with a shoulder injury for over a week. There’s nothing I can really do but wait. Wait for recovery. Wait for my doctor’s appointment. Wait for my trainer to clear me to play.

For me, all the waiting does is make me think about my injury, stress about missing games, and get anxious to play. I’m so tired of all this waiting! Are you? What are you waiting on? Waiting for a shoulder to heal might be trivial compared to what’s on your mind. A doctor’s diagnosis. A job offer. A way to pay the bills.

Trouble and being troubled are two completely different things. Trouble is being down by a run, nobody on base, with two outs in the bottom of the ninth and our worst hitter coming to the plate. Being troubled is having no strategy for this scenario and not being prepared to accept the possible consequences that are about to come.

As coaches, there will be many times when we will have to declare to our team, “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.” We might even complete our short speech with the same words that Jesus did: “Believe in me.” But if we haven’t demonstrated believability to our players, these words will have absolutely no value. Without having the same credibility that Jesus had, our words will be like wisps of air.

Depending on the golf course, the average PGA golfer will take roughly 280 shots during a four-round tournament. Within each one of those swings there is an enormous amount of pressure. For some players, one shot could make the difference between picking up a weekend paycheck and making an early exit—the difference between retaining a tour card and going back to qualifying school.

Aaron Baddeley fully understands all of the ramifications that accompany golf’s micromanaged scoring system. He has missed the cut by one stroke and made the cut by the same paper-thin margin. Baddeley never takes his position on the PGA for granted but somehow finds relief from the inherent stress with a special technique.