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Midway through the second quarter last night I grabbed my remote and shut off the TV. What I was seeing was too emotionally upsetting, UConn defending the living hell out of Caitlin Clark not allowing her to do what I like watching her do so much – connect on shots from long range – because it makes me feel good mentally to see a round ball making nylon flutter. It’s beautiful.
The national semi-final wasn’t turning out the way I wanted it to with Caitlin winning and this ride I’ve been on with her into an elusive ethereal world of superhuman greatness. For the past few weeks, I’ve been flying on this quest towards something like Heaven with you and tens of millions of other Americans – probably more.
After shutting down the game, I went upstairs more or less pouting, and got in bed. I’m not proud to admit this. I could not watch it anymore. It made me feel too down.
I was being pessimistic and asking those “woe is me” questions like “How come life never turns out the way we want it to?” I figured UConn would snuff out Miss America the rest of the game and everybody would say “Well, she’s won lots of awards and broke scoring records but she didn’t win a national title so she’s not truly great.”
I bristle hearing that narrative. It’s lazy, inaccurate, and a cheap shot by people who are jealous of her, aren’t thrilled with themselves, or just want to feel cool blurting their shallow “hot takes.”
My friend called.
“They’re only down by six at half.”
“It’s over. I’m in bed.”
“What – you’re not watching? You brought us out on this boat cruise into the middle of the gorgeous blue ocean, pouring Caitlin Clark hype down upon all of us, then when the waters get rough you abandon ship and go on your little raft to safety while we have to stay on your topsy turvey boat. You’re abandoning us.”
I was.
As I lay down I started thinking about why this situation was so important to me, why it was impacting how I felt so deeply, and why the hockey stick emotional swings. It’s just a 22-year-old woman playing basketball. It’s a game. This isn’t real life. Or is it? Yes, it is. It’s about winning and losing – the essence of life in many ways.
As I thought more I came to understand that what I admire most about Caitlin is she spent a huge portion of her childhood playing basketball – so did I by the way – and for so many hours and days and years she practiced her craft alone. So did I, by the way.
Like her but to a much lesser extent, I was a star athlete as a kid but obviously didn’t have nearly as much talent as her and not nearly as much mental toughness and discipline to practice enough to be as otherworldly spectacular as she has become. She possessed more mettle than me. I was dedicated; she was 100 times more dedicated. I respect her so much for making those personal sacrifices necessary to become the basketball genius she is.
To do something as well as she does – shoot a basketball accurately from 30 feet – requires unfathomable amounts of repetition alone in a gym, or on a playground, or in your driveway, with no one watching. At those times you’re thinking, imagining, fantasizing about one day the sweat equity paying off with accolades and praise and inspiring people in huge arenas and tens of millions watching from their homes.
You want people to appreciate your talents. You want to be a star.
But in those quiet gyms, no one’s there to talk to. It’s just you turning your thoughts inward, wondering what you’re chasing sometimes, asking if all the practice will end up being worth it.
She did this. She sacrificed all that time in her life. I had a girlfriend and went out to parties in high school when I could have been fine-tuning my basketball skills and, yes, I kind of regret that.
Unlike me and all other kids who play basketball but aren’t willing to pay the ultimate price to be great, Caitlin sacrificed so much more. She delayed gratification for longer than I and almost any other kid ever has. As a result, we are now enthralled in ways hard for us to even understand with the way she entertains us making shots almost no one on Earth can.
I am sitting here right now in part because of the idea that is Caitlin Clark, the life she has cared out, a person who endured inordinate amounts of childhood time practicing her craft with the hopes that one day it would pay off somehow.
It has, Caitlin.
You have inspired me more than you could ever know — more than I even know. I am here right now practicing my craft, writing, with the hopes that one day readers will be inspired to pursue whatever it is they feel called to do. I am here right now putting in the hours at the keyboard thinking up words and inputting sentence after sentence, as you did firing shots in the gym, because repetition is the only path to skill mastery.
I learned this lesson from Morgan Wootten, the greatest high school basketball coach of all time. “Repetition,” he would say often, “is the great teacher.”
This may be life’s most rock-solid truism. Repetition teaches you how to fix mistakes you’ve already encountered. Repetition teaches you what works and what doesn’t. Repetition helps you psychologically to keep going. If you put in the reps, you at least feel fulfilled you didn’t skimp and that feels good.
I am here this morning knowing I may never inspire anyone. It’s possible no one will read this or, if they do, won’t think much about it. Yet I persist because Caitlin persisted when there was no way she could have had a guarantee by herself practicing that she would lead her team to the national title game tomorrow and become the biggest sensation America has come across in decades – maybe ever.
She became this by getting basic; it’s often the basics in life that are the most important, that differentiate people. She practiced her shot. She worked on her dribbling. She passed and did the cross-over while all her friends were out doing other things just as right now my friends are out doing other things.
I want to be here. I want to be practicing. But there’s a price: less time with friends and family. That can be expensive. Life isn’t straightforward. It’s not obvious what to do much of the time.
What is obvious is I want this writing to mean something to someone, to help at least one person feel motivated to get out of bed or off the couch write down some goals, and take action. I want people to fight human nature which is to just get by, to get through another day, and soar well beyond mere existing.
I am here this morning for you, Caitlin. I am here this morning to do my tiny part in trying to help myself and others feel more purposeful, valuable, and turned on to do something they care about. I am here because it gives my life meaning. I am here because I want to get better at my craft. Maybe I am; may I’m not.
That’s important, but not crucial.
What is crucial is the non-top pursuit of excellence doing something well not just for yourself but for others.
I am here typing because of you, Caitlin Clark.
You, young lady, have lifted me to places I never thought I could go.
And I believe you have had the same positive impact on tens of millions of Americans – probably more – in ways that will manifest themselves today, a year from now, and for decades to come.
Take a bow, Miss America.
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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