Sometimes you watch the Jeep who cut you off in traffic is the same one you watch get pulled over, and sometimes you get pulled over instead for retaliating when the Jeep cut you off. Sometimes you get cut from the basketball team when you watch the kid who cheated on the math test get a starting role on that team. Sometimes you hit the game winning home run, and the next day you strike out three plate appearances in a row. One day you sell $25 of lemonade and the next day you barely crack a dollar.
And while we
love to say “Life’s not fair!” as if it will immediately cure our sulky moods,
we simultaneously suit up for another day of life’s up and downs, because as
upsetting or joyous they can be, they are just as unpredictable too.
I didn’t get
pulled over recently, but me getting pulled over for getting cut off took shape
on the racquetball court back in April 2026. Although it would be neat to drive
around like a maniac on a racquetball court, that’s not how it went. It
involved life not being fair and me throwing a gigantic fit about it. You know
how it goes: you throw a fit, embarrass yourself and possibly burn some bridges
in the middle of your tantrum, then realize it isn’t remotely as big of a deal
as you thought after you’ve had a full-scale meltdown.
Have you ever played racquetball? All you need is a racquet, a
blue rubber ball, and glasses to protect your eyes. A glove for the hand you
use to put your racquet in is optional. Let me spare you the detailed rules and
put it this way: try to hit the ball towards the front wall with your racquet
in a way that prevents the opponent from returning the shot before it bounces
twice.
Regardless of whether or not any of that made sense, I’m sure you
can relate to doing something that is designed to be fun, but turns into a day
you wish you could do over the second you think about it. If you’re like me and
think you should be able to crush everyone in the sport because you play 3
times a month for less than a year, you have to work extra hard to not take a
humbling loss personally.
At this point, it would be best to introduce Larry, a fitness nut
who, let’s just put it politely, doesn’t move on the court the way his age
suggests; and without revealing his age directly, his kids are around my age.
Yes, Larry is much older than me but moves on the court like he’s younger than
me – and it’s frustrating. I should add that he’s on my wife’s side of the
family, but in a lot of ways, he’s like a father figure to me. Don’t get me wrong,
my own father far exceeds the average father, so I don’t need an extra father
figure in my life because I need an exceptional father. However, it’s nice to
know God blessed me with numerous father figures in my life that I am not
related to by blood, and Larry is one of them.
Back to racquetball: he pulls off shots that can only be successfully
executed if you’re retired, play games against semi-pros, and don’t mind
getting absolutely decimated by better players with the sole purpose of
learning from them to get better.
In summary, I just described Larry and a big reason he demolishes
me every Saturday morning for two hours.
He doesn’t complain, pound his racquet against the wall, and throw
tantrums like I do, yet he’s the one who should be getting angry when he
messes up because he’s put in far more work than me. Yet, he’s a calm as
a cucumber with its sunglasses on. If I could read his mind, he would probably
be thinking, onto the next shot, and that’s where his mind goes because
he plays just like it.
When I learn from him, it’s less about racquetball and more about
composure and not letting the humility that comes with losing the point turn
into embarrassment from how you respond to the humbling moment. Don’t get me
wrong, he also teaches me techniques, strategies, and location of shots, but I
learn the most about behavior on the court based on how he plays.
Larry once told me that the best racquetball players he’s played
against “never think they’ve got it all figured out. They believe they could
always get better, and they are constantly learning.”
Whether it is intentional or not, Larry is speaking straight from
Scripture, which has a lot to say about being humble and learning no matter
where you’re at in life:
Instruct
the wise and they will be wiser still; teach the righteous and they will add to
their learning.
Proverbs
9:9 (NIV)
What
I believe this verse is saying is simple: Wise people are coachable; righteous
people never stop learning.
But to learn, you need an attitude that matches it. I have
discovered the hard way that my antics on the court do not give me the
opportunity to learn – you can’t learn when you let your emotions carry your
head to another place of personal offense.
In fact, the times I get close to beating Larry, or experience the
rare opportunity to beat him, my approach to each point is what helps me
execute and finish strong. In one of our racquetball meetings, Larry told me,
mid-game, “I can tell you play better when you don’t think about the last shot.
You slow the game down and let it come to you. I can tell it helps you stay in
the game.”
Being coachable and humble slows the game down because you take
time to learn from every shot, good or bad. The shots I refer to are not just
exclusive to the court. At work, when I get caught up in the to-do list and having
to rush through all of it, I can tell I get impatient with my students. When I
breathe, take time to learn from my day, and rest – slowing things down – I approach
my students with more grace, energy, and love.
Don’t stop learning and growing. Don’t let the speed of life discourage
you – instead, listen, add to your learning, and develop wisdom along the way. Larry
has taught me a lot – not just through pickleball. I hope I use each
opportunity I have with him to learn from his own experiences and how he approaches
life.
I also hope God has given you or gives you someone to learn from,
because he has a funny way of bringing these people into your life.
When they do step into your life, be glad they did: it is often
God’s way of saying you need to learn a few things.