Three Dynamics of Sport
by James Wilson
Largely because of the pandemic, this has been the first year in over 65 that I have not been either playing on a team sport or coaching a team. In addition, there is less opportunity to watch teams compete either live or on TV. This new normal has given me pause to reflect on what all of us who love sports have been missing. Coincidentally, I came upon and read a short article by sports psychologist and old friend John Yaeger in which he expressed many of the same reactions. In thinking about the lure of athletic games, it strikes me that there exist at least three dynamics of sport. Think of these dynamics as tensions or feelings of energy that draw the stakeholders — the players, coaches, trainers, officials, and fans — to the field or course or rink or court or gym.
There are three dynamics: the “risk reward” tension, the “individual- team’ dance, both described by John Yaeger, and finally the often-elusive search to find the balance between the organized and structured play on one hand and the free-flowing and spontaneous on the other.
The first “dance” or dynamic, one I encounter even at an advanced age whenever I play golf, is the “risk and reward” dynamic. There is a tension and a joy when confronted with the opportunity to place a shot far enough to get over a bunker but not “too long” to go into the traps on the backside of the narrow green. These situations present themselves frequently on the most interesting courses. Some avoid these and similar challenges, or find them annoying, but in doing so they miss out of one of the joys of sport. The uncertainty, the doubt, the anticipation and the act of trying brings great joy. Sure, one is elated when the shot is successful, and these are the ones that keep one coming back; but just as critical is having the opportunity to succeed or fail. The reality of short-term failure is also part of the dance. I treasure the opportunity.
As a coach (and a player), there is little joy in competing against and beating a much weaker opponent. Much greater satisfaction is achieved when playing a rival of equal or superior skill, and then, as with that golf shot, competing to the best of your ability. Much joy if and when you win, but even losing such contests can bring great satisfaction once the immediate disappointment of losing passes, knowing that you and your teammates competed to the best of your shared abilities. The lure is fundamentally the excitement and anticipation of coming to the field or the course or the rink, not knowing what the outcome will be, how the match or game will turn out. The degree of doubt and anticipation regarding the upcoming activity and outcome gets the adrenalin flowing, often leading to superior performances. The greater the challenge and the risk, the greater the potential for elation. And once one commits to taking an appropriate risk, he or she gains a freedom to enjoy the flow of the game or match, not playing afraid, not worried or fearful of making a mistake or bad play. A track athlete or an oarsman can experience the same exhilaration
People have, in the past, often asked me why I enjoyed rock climbing and climbing big mountains. Most folks think little of the process and only of the outcome, in this case getting to the top. Obviously, there are dangers and one must take what I call “measured” risks, ones appropriate to one’s strengths and abilities, both physical and mental.
I recall still with great clarity my experience in the late 80’s on an expedition to Everest. Certainly, a successful outcome was in doubt, especially considering the route we had chosen, but the anticipation alone was hugely energizing. When I returned, having failed to reach the summit by several hundred vertical feet, the only question my friends asked was “Did you make the summit?” Predictable. Few were interested in hearing about the experience, the challenges we overcame, the satisfaction of cooperating and trusting five other climbers in pursuit of a difficult goal. In their minds, we had “failed.” Yes. We were disappointed not to have made the summit, but that was minor compared with the joy of taking a risk, challenging ourselves to the max, and doing everything in our power and as a team, to reach the summit. Not the same as walking around the block or even a hike the woods.
Every sportsman or sportswomen seeks his or her own level of risk. We each have different comfort levels for risk, be it on a mountain or in a whitewater rapid or on a track. The joy from seeking the risk-reward balance, doing the risk-reward dance can be experienced by anyone. Some do it sky diving; I prefer to have both feet on the ground!
In this moment of reflection, I am reminded of the joy derived from taking a measured risk, going a bit beyond one’s comfort zone. Whether it is on a rock cliff, on the golf course, preparing for a lacrosse or a hockey game, while having a well-defined outcome is important (there is a reason to keep score or have a summit in view), the joy is as much in the process, the tension in seeking that balance between risk and reward as in the actual outcome.
“No pain, no gain” might read “No risk, no reward.” Sport provides innumerable opportunity to do this dance.
The second dynamic of sport, one on which good coaches focus much of their attention involves the tension between individual and team, what my friend and sports psychologist John Yaeger calls the “individual-team dance.” All athletes and coaches know how important it is to develop individual skills, for each player to strive to be able to perform at the highest level. The focus here is on “me.” How do I get better? How do I improve? How do I reach my potential? But success in most sports, even on a mountain, comes only when the individual actors perform in unison. Sometimes performing as a team is very obvious as with a set play in football or a set power play in ice hockey; everyone has a designated role. More often teamwork is more fluid and often quite elusive as in a hockey game when a defender creates a turnover, that allows as teammate to move the puck quickly up ice to another player who sneaks into a position to score. The headlines go to the player who had the easy job; as a coach I always sought to draw attention to the defender who made it all possible — and encouraged my players to do the same. In lacrosse, so often it is the gritty play by an unheralded defender or middie who gets a tough ground ball and moves it quickly out of his stick, and two or three passes later an attackman scores. Or maybe it was the goalie who made a huge save and made a quick outlet pass to a sprinting midfielder. I often repeat that scoring is the easy part and urge the players to recognize and acknowledge the players who made it all possible. This was very much the lesson the legendary John Wooden preached to his great basketball players. And I admired Tom Brady who often, after a successful pass, would immediately go to acknowledge a player who made a key block. Good coaches work hard to cultivate the critical balance between individual excellence and teamwork. It does not happen automatically.
There is a joy in playing on such a team, one in which the individual players trust each other and do everything possible to support each other. And the “star” players? They are best when they make their teammates better. Orchestrating this “individual-team” dance can be tricky, often it does not work, but when it does, not only is there a high level of success on the scoreboard, but great satisfaction and elation for the players and coaches and fans.
It is often said that “defense wins championships.” Well, good defense requires great teamwork, and teams that learn and display this kind of teamwork become top contenders.,
Much of the spirit and joy I have experienced as a player and a coach is lost, I believe, in a “win at all costs” environment that embraces strict training regimen and highly organized structures. Certainly, professional sports are played at that level. “Winning isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.”, said Vince Lombardi. Whatever. And for many college and high school athletes, participation almost becomes a job. Everyone is free to make their own choices. But during this pause in organized sport, due to COVID -19, I am reminded of one more dynamic.
Recently I watched a group of eight to ten young teenagers playing basketball in a local park. What fun they were having! No refs, no coaches, constant movement, chatter (including good natured trash talking), great ball movement … pure joy! I watched for perhaps 20 minutes, went to do an errand, came back 30–40 minutes and later, and they were still at it. While coaches and trainers and referees play an important role in organized sports, any one of these people would have ruined this game. We tend to forget, sometimes, that sports do not have to be fully organized, players do not have to wear uniforms, there do not have to be coaches and officials.
I recall some of my own most memorable sporting activities. Yes, they include exciting games with fans, referees, coaches trying to orchestrate the activity and control the outcome. But also, at the top if the list are the hours spent on local ponds in the town in which I grew up, playing pond hockey ’til we either lost the pucks into the open water or it got dark… Todd’s Pond, Sandy Pond, Beaver Pond … The goals were usually a pair of boots or a couple of logs; the ice might be smooth black ice to begin with, but once the ice got cut up, we’d move to another section of the pond. No Zamboni’s! Pure joy!
And as a coach, I have often wondered whether youngsters don’t learn as much or more about how to play hockey or lacrosse or soccer in these free-wheeling pick-up games as they do in structured, drill-oriented practices that most of us as coaches organized. We all know the story of Wayne Gretzky, but none of us have eyes on the back of our heads. A good friend recently reminded me about Bobby Orr; he was asked if there was anyone who had played a particularly big part in him becoming as good as he was. While expecting him to name Don Cherry or someone who had coached him growing up, Orr responded: “Those 60 kids that chased me around the ice on Georgian Bay every day playing shinny.” Enough said! I think many coaches, operating with an inflated desire to control the outcomes, probably over coach. I did.
Same experiences playing neighborhood baseball, often on an uneven field, someone’s sweatshirt or a glove as home plate, animated debates over whether Billy was “out” or “safe.” And we played ’til dark, often beyond. And the fantasy, imagining yourself at the plate, ninth inning at Fenway Park, game seven of the World Series… or back on the pond, imagining being on the ice in game seven of a Stanley Cup overtime battle! Pure joy! No space for this when your team has 90 minutes of ice and every minute must be put to “good” use in preparation for some league trophy.
I recall years ago watching a mite hockey team practicing on our school rink. The coaches had the players arranged so as to practice a power play. These were mites, standing around, while coaches tried to have them execute passes and movement that my 17- and 18-year-old players found challenging. The joy these youngsters were missing! I wanted to scream: “Let the kids play!!! Throw out some pucks, set up four or five or six goals across the ice. Get out of their way!!”
It might have been the same winter. There was a leak in our rink ice-making equipment and for a few days the rink was shutdown. So, I took the varsity team out onto the Farmington River. Only two players out of 20 had ever skated on natural ice. (My guess is that many had no idea that ice hockey began outdoors on ponds.). We skated a mile or so up the river, losing a dozen or more pucks in the open water at mid-stream, then found a cove for a mini hockey game, “shinny” to us old-timers. Despite the fact that one player went through the ice near the shore on our return, up to his hips and then ran to the gym with his skates on, the kids had a blast.!! They talked about this “practice” for weeks, almost as if they were pioneers. Did we miss an opportunity to perfect our forecheck or breakout or power play? Probably. But the players experienced some joy rarely allowed in a formal and carefully choreographed practice. (As a coach I followed the Jack Parker model and I tried to script every minute! In retrospect, probably ill-advised.)
So, an ongoing tension exists and there is a need, in my opinion, for there to be a balance between the formal training and drill on the one hand and the joy that comes from the less structured, freewheeling play. There is room for both, but increasingly young people are brought into the organized arena far too early by coaches and administrators who see themselves as Herb Brooks reincarnated.
So, this essay began in a moment of reflection about a part of our lives that has been diminished and put on hold because of the pandemic. What am I left with? For me, taking on an activity in which the outcome is in doubt, where there is a risk, where one might fail is critical to a life well lived. Sports are one of the avenues for these experiences. In this age in which there seems to be so much emphasis on individual achievement and individual rights, it is ever more important for young people especially to fully understand the meaning of teamwork and actually experience the dynamic of being a part of a team. Not much room in the adult workplace for those who do not learn these lessons. So, doing the “individual-team” dance is critical.
And at a time when sports from a very early age have become so organized and structured, where even in-house team competition has to pay second fiddle to travel teams and all-star showcase competitions, we must not lose sight of both the value in and the joy derived from informal, unstructured competition. I look back at all my athletic experiences in a variety of capacities and what jumps to the top of my list is the hours playing pond hockey, sans Zamboni, sans referees, sans coaches.
To quote my friend John Yaeger: “As we now grieve our lack of accessibility to participate in the cooperative dynamic of sport, as well as the competitive aspects of the sports arena, we realize how sport welcomes the rich opportunities for joy, satisfaction, challenge, and elation.” Well said. And hopefully soon it will be safe to return to sports at all levels and once again experience these joys.
