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2003 Writing Contest Winner

Devotion

A Blocked Shot & Salvation"

by Marc D. Greenwood: Akron Ohio

"Who’s that guy?" someone asked, pointing at me. ”Why is he shooting baskets by himself?" 

Another whispered with a look of disdain, "That’s Greenwood."

We all knew the selection routine at the YMCA. The first two players to sink free throws earned the honor of alternately selecting their team. Marginal talents dreaded the humiliation-inducing ritual.

Bloated by my star status, I dribbled to another basket to perfect my shot, confident I’d be chosen first. The mere mortals could sweat out the selection process. Years later, a friend confessed he’d grown weary of hearing about my basketball prowess. "Everybody had to kiss your signet ring," he said.

Fueled by an insatiable desire to outperform others, I honed my skills. Sequestering myself in a steaming, empty gymnasium, flying from end line to end line, I refined my behind-the-back dribble.  My labored breathing and squeaking sneakers-- coupled with the echo of ricocheting ball on hardwood and the swish of a feathery jumper caressing the net -- created an intoxicating symphony for me.

 

 

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My labor generated three leading scorer awards, two league championship crowns, and a Most Valuable Player award. The ball and my hand became one as I transformed into a sleight-of-hand artist. I unleashed an array of weapons: a jet-assisted first step, a killer crossover, and an automatic pull-up jumper. I fired no-look passes my teammates gobbled up like M&M candy and converted into lay-ups. I attacked the game with a cold-eyed fury, a relentless scoring machine, hungering for victory.

After the sweat and heartbreak of the selection process the teams matched up. An unimpressive newcomer had been duped into guarding me. "He’s in for a long night." I thought full of assurance. 

But to my dismay, his quickness thwarted my drives to the basket, and his mad hops forced me to rainbow my shot.  Bewildered, I fumed to myself, "This is my court. What’s going on? I’m supposed to be handing out the lessons." I struggled as the game seesawed. Shots were contested, bodies banged in the mid-air skirmish for rebounds and tempers flared as we struggled for court supremacy.

Despite my inability to dominate the newcomer, I remained confident. I always performed best under pressure, ever ready to plunge a game-winning dagger. At crunch time, I demanded the ball and waved my teammates away, forcing an isolation play. This wasn’t about basketball anymore. My manhood and self-identity were threatened. Scoring the winner over my tormentor promised sweet vindication. I threw a series of head fakes, jab steps, elevated, and launched the game winner.

Thwack. The sound reverberated throughout the gym. He’d blocked my shot. Humiliated and infuriated, I screamed, "Foul."

The newcomer howled, "No way. That was a clean block."

Frustrated, I used the Lord’s name in vain. Fear seized me as I realized, I had dishonored God. A verse learned as a child left me naked before my Creator: "You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses His name." Exodus 20:7 (NIV)

Though I abstained from cigarettes, drugs, and drinking, my righteousness now lay in a heap. Seared by the light, I saw myself as a rebel, an unclean man. For a whole week my conscience lashed and tormented me. Desperate for relief, I fled to a small church where Joey Johnson served as Pastor.

I entered fearful and uncomfortable. For 12 years I was a stranger here. I didn’t know what to expect. Yet, under Pastor Joey’s patient ministration, I learned how Jesus Christ died, was buried, resurrected and now sits at the right hand of God interceding for me… despite my fierce pride. I responded to the Holy Spirit and exchanged death for life and darkness for light.

I had never seen my basketball tormentor before that eventful day and haven’t seen him since. But I’m so grateful he blocked me to salvation.

     You can email marc at MarcD1110@aol.com

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     2003 Winner -- Poetry 2003 Winner -- Sermon2003 Winner -- Prayer

Honorable Mention --

"Come Away With Me, My Beloved" by Nancy Morris of Farmville, Virginia

"Six Dollars to Spend" by Melva Cooper of Jonesboro, Arkansas

For information on our 2004 Writing Contest, please click here.

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Last modified July 22, 2003.

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