How the Daily Office will change your life (Part 1)
Like most American Christians I have spent significant time looking for “fresh” Jesus experiences. Several years ago I decided that looking for “new” things was an unhelpful exercise in missing the point. That conviction struck me as I reflected on an experience I had years ago with Larry Bird…
My part-time job teenage job was Phoenix Suns ball-boy. While my friends worked the usual food service and retail gigs, I worked the visitor’s team bench and locker room. I wasn’t just paid better than my friends, I watched games from the floor and had the opportunity to rub shoulders with NBA Hall of Fame greats like Kareem, Dr. J, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, and Michael Jordan. Well, maybe “rub shoulders” is overstating it. I tossed them towels and put their jerseys on their shoulders when they came out of the game. During those years I noticed something: The very best players, the really great ones, all had a consistent warm-up routine they followed identically, even superstitiously, before each game.
Game nights for me involved arriving three and a half hours before tipoff to set up the visitor’s locker room with towels and soda before the team bus pulled up an hour later. One afternoon in February of 1980 I entered the bowels of Veterans Memorial Coliseum to hear the echo of a basketball being dribbled. I craned my head toward the court and saw the arena lights already on through the tunnel. The security guard, seeing my confused look informed, “Some Celtics rookie showed up early.” I set up the locker room and walked into to the court to see this curiosity for myself. Larry Bird had finished his layup cycle and was shooting his way “around the world.” I guess Larry had paid for a cab to arrive early and go through his routine. Seeing my ball boy jersey, he asked if I would shag balls as he shot his way farther and farther away from the basket. Fans of professional basketball may know that 1979-80 was not only Bird’s rookie season, it was also the first year of the three-point line, which at 23’9’’ is quite a distance to hurl a basketball with either form or accuracy. Larry continued to shoot his way further from the basket until he was at the 3-point line. Larry Bird was a forward. I had not seen a forward shoot from the still new and rarely used three-point line. What Larry did next I had never seen any player do: He continued to move beyond the arc until he was shooting a full 10’ behind it. I grew impatient chasing balls shot from a distance one could not possibly use in a game. I asked him why he was wasting his time. Larry responded in his Indiana drawl, “You never know,” he said winding up a shot from 12’ past the line on the right side of the arc near the scorer’s table sideline, “when I might need this shot to win a game.” I almost laughed out loud – an NBA coach was not going to give a game-winning shot to a rookie.
Five hours later, with time running out and the Suns holding a two-point lead, the Celtics broke their huddle and inbounded the ball to Larry Bird. The rookie dribbled into the front court where he launched a 30’ shot from within three feet of the spot he had told me he might need to shoot from in warmups. His shot caromed off the backboard and dropped through the net giving the Celtics a one-point lead over the Suns with half a minute left. How did Larry make impossible shots look easy? The answer: repetition – the thousands of shots Larry had launched in his practice routine.
By the time a basketball player reaches the NBA they have practiced tens of thousands of shots, but they still start their warmups with layups. Why do men who can dunk still practice layups? They know how to do a layup. Layups are boring. The truth is that greatness in both sports and the Christian walk is not about information, it is about formation. There is a difference. Information is knowledge. A good Jr. high player knows the mechanics of a proper jump shot. But it was the two decades of repetitive discipline, honed on an outdoor court in Indiana winters, shooting until his hands bled, that gave Larry Bird the freedom to do things others could not on a basketball court. The principle Larry Bird knew is that Repetition leads to transformation. We see this at work in scripture: Romans 12 opens with, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God….” Then Paul explains how to present our bodies to God, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” The Phillips translation phrases it like this, “Don’t let the world squeeze you into it’s mold, but let God remold you from within.”
(Next Up: Part 2 How does God “remold us” spiritually, and the basis of Anglican spirituality.)
6 thoughts on “Larry Bird and the Power of Repetition”
“The Christian walk is not about information, it is about formation.” Matt, thank you for this concept. Larry was driven. Something about a basketball and the game caught his attention and provided purpose for him. Sitting around and only being a fan wouldn’t get it done. He got into the game. And your thought is right on, in my view. The anticipation. The win. Going places no other athlete dare. The sense of history in view. Pursuing excellence. All of it. Like an artist creating on a canvas, Bird understood your concept Matt. Looking forward to your next article and how this concept applies to growing in Christ.
Thanks, Jerry. Great comments. Thank you for adding to he discussion. Larry was indeed a driven guy.
Glad to see you back at the blog. Your message is so true and so unpopular in a culture consumed with idolatry of novelty and the latest and greatest fads. This rings similar with Eugene Peterson’s book “A Long Obedience”.
Thank you for the reminder that it’s not in the glitz and glamour where we live. Only as servants of the King. Praise be to God.
Thank you. Funny, I was thinking about that book as I wrote the piece.
You still challenge and refocus me toward significant Christ transformation. Thank you.
Larry Bird demonstrated how to do life that remains significant. Congregations in my faith-tradition keep busy on unrelated projects: here an event, there an event, then what have you done for me recently? They do only what can be measured, assuming disciples automatically emerge. Wonder where the people went?
Interesting. Willow Creek had a Coke to Jesus moment a few years ago when they realized more activity didn’t change any measurable indicators of discipleship in people’s lives. Thank you for you always insightful comment, Dr!