I had just scored the winning basket in the championship round on a baseline jump shot in the older kids bracket. My momentum after I had released the shot had carried me closer to the audience of fellow campers, who made up a human wall surrounding the court.
And while I and the older kids made up some of the camp, there were kids quite a few grades behind attending as well. One of the younger attendees happened to be standing right where my unintentionally jubilant fist would land.
The blow landed not squarely, and not with the full force of say a true punch, but with enough force that it startled me and I didn't know how to react.
My moment of celebration was drowned out the waves of fear that were now crashing around my heart.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you. I'm so sorry!"
But the damage was still done, and as I saw behind the kids now crumpled glasses, I could see the tears welling up, and the red mark on the side of his face. All I could feel was remorse and shame.
Of course the camp staff had attended to the younger camper, who ended up being okay, just extremely shaken up and sore. But the attendees also came over to me to make sure I was okay, as I was still shaken up as I had clearly been the source of the head trauma.
I understood it was an accident. A moment where I got carried away with the winning of the game. I went to express my joy, and unintentionally hit a younger spectator. Yet, the fact that I caused that damage sticks with me to this day. It was a moment where I began to think of myself as a "Giant".
The blow landed not squarely, and not with the full force of say a true punch, but with enough force that it startled me and I didn't know how to react.
My moment of celebration was drowned out the waves of fear that were now crashing around my heart.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you. I'm so sorry!"
But the damage was still done, and as I saw behind the kids now crumpled glasses, I could see the tears welling up, and the red mark on the side of his face. All I could feel was remorse and shame.
Of course the camp staff had attended to the younger camper, who ended up being okay, just extremely shaken up and sore. But the attendees also came over to me to make sure I was okay, as I was still shaken up as I had clearly been the source of the head trauma.
I understood it was an accident. A moment where I got carried away with the winning of the game. I went to express my joy, and unintentionally hit a younger spectator. Yet, the fact that I caused that damage sticks with me to this day. It was a moment where I began to think of myself as a "Giant".
One of the camp staff was a former local college standout named John Amaechi. To this point, he is still battling to reach his goal of playing in the NBA, but I know he is easily the most accomplished basketball player I have ever met in my young and slightly sheltered life.
"You're doing great here," he said to me as he took me aside. "You might be the best player in the whole camp this year. But you're also bigger than most of these kids and a bit more physically advanced. You're going to need to be a bit more careful going forward, and if you really want to go to the places that I think you want to get to, you are going to need to keep working as hard as you can towards those goals. You may feel ahead now, but people will catch up, and it will be the people who are disciplined and willing to sacrifice who will succeed."
Since then a lot has happened, but it doesn't make his words and wisdom any less true or less valuable. In fact, his latest book might be the medicine that society needs to take.
In Psychologist John Amaechi's book, "The Promises of Giants," Amaechi tells his own similar story of being out on the dance floor, letting loose and having some less than glamorous results.
The Promises of Giants gives us a glimpse into the thinking that has helped move Amaechi from a pudgy, comic nerd in his adolescence, to a professional basketball player in his 20's and 30's, to becoming a psychologist, professional consultant, and now, a best selling author.
His story is his own, and he brilliantly tells a tale of accountability, commitment, vulnerability, mental and physical health, and leadership.
After the first listen, I found myself personally reflective and felt a need to to listen to the book again. I wanted a way to keep reminding myself of the specifics of the promises and to keep holding myself to account.
His story is his own, and he brilliantly tells a tale of accountability, commitment, vulnerability, mental and physical health, and leadership.
After the first listen, I found myself personally reflective and felt a need to to listen to the book again. I wanted a way to keep reminding myself of the specifics of the promises and to keep holding myself to account.
One of the things I found myself thinking over and over is despite our vast differences, there was still an overlap in how my mind and his seem to work; which is of course, the point.
If you're looking for some inspiration about leadership, or looking for tools that may help guide you on your specific quest to success, The Promises of Giants offers a persuasive argument towards personal accountability and the taking care of one's mental and physical health.
We all can be looked at as Giants. From our kids, to our parents, to friends and family, each and every one of us plays an incredibly spectacular role to someone else. Amaechi's book is a positive guide on what we should do about it.
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