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Below are selected previous messages:
 Personal Growth of Each Student
Twelve Lessons
Tomato Plants
At the Ice Pond
Why We Should Teach Students about World
Religions
On the Basketball Court
Some of you may not know about my lifelong adventure with the game of basketball. I am more than a fan; I am a fan-atic. In not only like to watch - I have watched games from high school to college to professional to the famous
playground games at West 54th St. in New York - I like to play even more. Not that I was blessed with much talent for the game. I was too small and skinny and had too little confidence to make the team in high school. In later years however, I have realized that none of those things really matter - especially when you're joining the ranks of other middle-aged souls who either, like me, had little ability to begin with, or whose once stellar abilities are now fading steadily.
Over the years my basketball exploits have taken on almost mystical dimensions, as a number of remarkable experiences have happened while I've been on the court. First of all, some of the best and most interesting people I have come across in Washington are individuals whom I've met on the basketball court. Take Sami Kari our former super sub, ace repairman, and expert woodworking and soccer teacher. I met him during an exhausting full-court game two and a half years ago. And Oscar Fairley, our stupendous after care and P.E. teacher, where do you think I met him? You guessed it. At the playground at eight a.m. on a misty Sunday morning. Then of course there's Joe Haley and John Andrews, our brokers over at Smith Barney. I met them in a fierce game of three-on-three when I first joined my fitness center. They're two of the best hoop players in Bethesda, though I must say their games have slowed somewhat since they both got married and had children.
Two of our newest staff members, though, Paul Ogba and Tim Schwartz, are better than average hoopsters. It turns out that Paul can even dunk the ball! And when I needed a real estate agent to look for larger facilities for our school in the future, where did I look? That's right: on the basketball court! That's where I found Jim Roy who is assisting us with real estate matters.
Then there's Nick Onder and Mark Stevens whom I first met on a sunny warm day in May at the Norwood Park Court four or five years ago. They had known each other since childhood and were at that time in college - Nick in finance and Mark in music. Today, Nick is counseling us on retirement planning while Mark was our beloved piano teacher for a time until he joined a famous blues band called Room Full Of Blues.
Over the years, I have played with bankers, lawyers, doctors, sanitary engineers, secretaries, carpenters, construction workers, auto mechanics and even a few homeless folks! One of the great things about basketball is that it is totally democratic. It doesn't matter who you are. If you're the CEO of a big corporation and you can't hit a jump shot, you might not get the respect to which you're accustomed. And if you happen to be a wiry, unassuming director of a Montessori school - but you hustle and play hard, most players are going to want you on their team. Among the more notable people I have played with and against is nationally renowned child psychologist and author, Dr. Stanley Greenspan. I played with him for years, calling out "Stan" a dozen times a week, before I figured out who he was. He was similarly ignorant of the fact that I was the director of Oneness-Family. Now, with our basketball relationship solidified, and our true identities revealed, we have begun to collaborate on a professional level. "Stan" is going to refer students to us, and Oneness is going to take advantage of the unique services provided by his practice.
One of my most memorable moments on the basketball court (or forgettable - depending on your point of view) was a little over a year ago. I was asked by nice looking group of players to join a full-court game up at
the Bethesda Sport and Health Club. My initial impression was that I was put on the better team. The other team happened to have an attractive, athletic looking young woman, whom I was elected by my teammates to guard. Having played in the past against women with skills superior to mine, I was taking nothing for granted. However, I was not prepared for the level of expertise and athleticism which this woman displayed. Obviously, she was not your ordinary player. As she was sitting with her friends after the game, I noticed the initials N.M. embroidered on her sneakers. I realized I had just been "schooled" by none other than Nikki McCray from the Washington Mystics!
That same year I ended up playing with Steve Hood, a professional player who is now playing in Israel, as well as Sonia Chase, a pro player from the Charlotte Sting. After getting to know Sonia over a period of several months - and games - Sonia accepted my invitation to come to a Oneness-Family Community meeting. She spoke about how hard she had to work to become a professional player, and she showed our students some dribbling and shooting tips. Afterward, she gave autographs, and we took photos of her with our students. She made a big impression on them.
Over the years, we have had our own school basketball team - when there has been enough interest. Of course the coach has been none other than yours truly. Our school teams may not have always been the best, but they have been disciplined, hard-working, and have been noted for their excellent teamwork and sportsmanship. They also learned how to enjoy the game.
On a couple of occasions we have entered a school basketball team in the adult Washington DC Hoop It Up Tournament - the basketball's equivalent of nirvana. They close off all of Pennsylvania Avenue and set up seventy-five basket ball courts upon which players of every ability and from every corner of the area, play all weekend. Over the years, such notable school figures as former OFS Director of Finance Tom Rosenfeld and parents Derrick Jackson and Farris Curry have joined me on our school squad. What we didn't know is that because Derrick had played one year of pro ball (and we made the mistake of indicating that on our entry form), we were put into one of the highest competitive brackets. I knew we were in trouble when a player on the other team jumped straight over the top of me and dunked the ball down onto my head. I won't tell you how badly we were defeated, but somehow we had fun in spite of it all.
I have come to realize that playground basketball is a secret society with many surprising members who otherwise are ordinary upstanding citizens. For instance, I ate at Villa Deli for years before I discovered that the proprietors Ramin and Cameron held clandestine gatherings in the wee hours on Sunday mornings to worship the orange leather ball, the round silver ring, and the feathery net. I am now a charter member of their group (they call me the "commissioner") which pulls a surprising number of local Chevy Chase yuppies away from their New York Times and steaming lattes on Sunday mornings.
One of the greatest lessons I have learned from basketball over the years is about chemistry. Having grown up near Boston watching the great Celtics teams of the '60's, '70's and '80's, and observing the mystique that surrounded them, I became a great believer in team chemistry - a principle I have applied when building our school faculty and staff. Everyone on the team does not have to be the best player, but everyone needs a clearly defined role in which they are supported and for which they are acknowledged. Moreover, each member of the team should have a clear understanding of the vision and philosophy of the team and clarity about how his/her role fits in with everyone else's role. Finally, everyone on the team has to understand that we are playing a team game. We all depend upon the other members of the team for our success and our progress.
I do wonder sometimes whether Mr. James Naismith,
the inventor of basketball, ever imagined that his game would have such a
profound impact on people's lives when he hung his first peach basket up on the
wall nearly a century ago. As his brown leather ball clanked against the wooden
beam of his barn, I doubt he could have envisioned a time where adults who in
most ways were common, everyday folk, would wear, like a badge of honor,
t-shirts imprinted with their credo: Basketball is Life. On the other hand, who
knows? If old James were alive today, maybe he'd be wearing one of those
t-shirts himself.
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