I have self-doubt. I have insecurity. I have fear of failure. I have nights when I show up at the arena and I’m like, “My back hurts, my feet hurt, my knees hurt. I don’t have it. I just want to chill.” We all have self-doubt. You don’t deny it, but you also don’t capitulate to it. You embrace it. — Kobe Bryant
If we’re not afraid to make mistakes . . . we’ll win this game. —Steve Donahue
Gifted with sharp hand-eye coordination, attention to detail, and a desire and joy for the game, Dawn1 was among the best players that I have ever coached. She worked hard and really wanted to continuously improve her game. She was very coachable and had a combination of smoothness and grit on the court, which meant that she was both light on her feet and not afraid to dive for loose balls or tangle an opponent up for a jump ball. At our practices, shielded from the eyes of a crowd and from the pressure of real games, she seemed — to this coach of youth basketball for nearly 30 years — like someone whose path was most certainly going to lead her to play college ball and possibly beyond.
During our games, however, it was as if she were a completely different person. She took bad shots that were out of her range or when she was double covered. She made “unforced errors,” dribbling the ball off of her foot. She would yell at teammates and blame them for mistakes that she was making. She was tentative and would overthink decisions that took her less than a second in practice.
Sometimes she would just freeze with tears welling up in her eyes. After a few games my fellow coaches and I noticed that after she would make a mistake, she always seemed to look up into the stands … where her mother sat with a disappointed expression on her face. My player, my poor 11-year-old player, was afraid.
And thank God, this is true for all of us — not just with regard to basketball, but on our walk through life: Even if we make the wrong choice, even if we fail, we will still be loved. No matter what.
I love sports. I loved playing them when I was growing up and now I love coaching and teaching them as an adult whose knees aren’t quite what they once were. My love of sports has allowed me to journey in a special way with many athletes and coaches over the years. The best coaches that I have played for and the best coaches that I have coached with have often used sports to “tell the truth slant”2 through the beautiful ways that it can reflect life.
I won’t soon forget when legendary basketball coach Steve Donahue came to visit with a group of religious leaders on our campus in 2019. I invited him and the Penn men’s basketball coaching staff to speak to us, as I had a hunch that they would have some wisdom and guidance around journeying with young people. They beautifully shared how they are not just “coaching student athletes,” but that they are “coaching young men.” In other words, they are engaged in a project of formation not just around physical performance on the court, but also around the character of the individuals they are working with.
The coaches shared that while we often are tempted to only give attention to the superstar players who start every game, or the players who are injured and need a lot of care, it is the players in the middle whom we must not let fall through the cracks. They are the ones who are in most danger of getting discouraged and drifting away from the team. But it was one particular story that took up residence in my heart in a special way.
Coach Donahue spoke about a pregame talk he was giving to his team. The Penn Quakers were hosting the defending national champions, the Villanova Wildcats. These two very well-run programs play each other every year, even though they are in different conferences, because of a wonderful Philadelphia tradition that was then called the “Big 5” but is now the “City 6.” It’s a kind of unofficial athletic conference of Philadelphia-area universities that have a long tradition of basketball. Each year, Temple University, LaSalle University, Saint Joseph’s University, Villanova University, Drexel University, and the University of Pennsylvania play one another in a round robin tournament over the course of the season. There is no automatic bid into the NCAA tournament for the winner. But there is the joy and the yearlong bragging rights that come with besting our neighbors.
So, Penn playing Villanova was not just a “tune-up game” for ’Nova before their conference schedule began. No, these Big 5 games are intense evenings with arenas full of loud students and passionate alumni.
Still, Villanova, the defending national champions, who were at the time ranked in the top twenty in the country, was primed to come into Penn’s storied basketball arena, The Palestra, known as the “Cathedral of Basketball” (good things happen in cathedrals!), and crush Penn by at least twenty points.
After going over the usual basketball details such as who would be starting and which defensive set they would begin the game in, Coach told the team: “If we’re not afraid to make mistakes, we’ll win this game.”
There is a very practical notion around this. If players are not afraid to make mistakes and take the shots that are available to them (especially three pointers), and if they can make a fairly high percentage of those shots, the chances to pull off an upset increase. It is very difficult for a smaller team at a smaller school to defeat a taller and faster team of highly recruited players. Yet, if the smaller underdog shoots three pointers well, plays fearless defense, and does a lot of the little things right (minimize turnovers, out rebound the other team, win more fifty-fifty balls), then anything can happen.
While we often are tempted to only give attention to the superstar players who start every game, or the players who are injured and need a lot of care, it is the players in the middle whom we must not let fall through the cracks.
After this talk, the team emerged from the locker room and saw a Penn student holding a large sign that read, “There’s no fear here.”
And, as the story goes, David beat Goliath.3
After the final buzzer sounded, the students stormed the court celebrating one of the biggest upsets in college basketball that year. Penn shot the three ball at 44 percent and beat the Wildcats half-court defense with screens and a dizzying array of cuts and well-drawn-up plays. It was a beautiful and fearless game.
I remember sitting on the bench with Dawn, the aforementioned eleven-year-old girl that I used to coach during one of our games. I asked her what was the difference between practice where everything came so easy to her, and the games where she was struggling.
“I don’t know,” she said, voice soft. “I just keep messing up. I’m a bad player. I understand if you don’t want me on your team anymore.”
“Of course we want you on our team,” I replied. “You’re a great kid and we love coaching you. Is something different though, about when you’re playing in these games?”
“It’s just …” The girl paused, hesitating. “I just don’t want to mess up. I really don’t want to disappoint you all or my mom.”
Trying to speak to her soul, I said, “The other coaches and I think you and your teammates are all awesome. Whether we win a game or lose a game. Whether you go out there and score forty points and get a triple-double, or whether you miss all of your shots and turn the ball over a hundred times. We just enjoy seeing you all do your best and continue to improve your game.” I further assured her that the other coaches and I are not worried about wins or losses. We just want her and her teammates to have fun.
“And my hunch is that your mom will love you no matter how you play,” I added, smiling. “I see you looking up at her when you make a mistake. But I’m sure that her love for you doesn’t depend on how well you’re playing.”
She soon got back onto the court and finished the game. She finished the season. She ended up having a successful high school basketball career, and we’ll see what the future holds for her on the court.
And thank God, this is true for all of us — not just with regard to basketball, but on our walk through life: Even if we make the wrong choice, even if we fail, we will still be loved. No matter what.
- Her actual name was not Dawn, but since I am writing from and living in Philadelphia, I thought I would pay tribute to the brilliant player and coach Dawn Staley!
- I love this phrase from Emily Dickinson’s poem of the same name.
- This is a tangential footnote. It references the Bible story about the young shepherd boy David taking on the giant and professional soldier Goliath. For a very fascinating take on this story, see the brilliant Malcolm Gladwell’s book David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants (Little Brown and Company, 2013).
Excerpted with permission from Uncovering Your Path: Spiritual Reflections for Finding Your Purpose, copyright 2025 by Charles Lattimore Howard (Morehouse Publishing). Order the book here.
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