Ok, this isn't a serious blog post. So why am I doing it? Because I can! Enjoy!
Ok, this isn't a serious blog post. So why am I doing it? Because I can! Enjoy!
Posted by Chris Brady at 10:32 AM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: chris brady, horsepower, race, speed, win
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As a father I am constantly on the lookout for lessons, stories, experiences, and role models that will be edifying for the development of my children. Several years ago, while he was still a surprising sensation at the University of Florida, Tim Tebow came onto my radar screen. There was something attractive about his relentless drive for excellence, his incredible work ethic, his will to win, and his unflappable attitude. I also appreciated his testimony as a Christian.
Watching Tim Tebow go from being the youngest winner of the Heisman Trophy to a number 1 draft pick in the NFL was a source of excitement for my young boys. I felt comfortable allowing them to watch his interviews, read his book, and listen in to his exploits as he transitioned into the professional ranks. Tim Tebow, a home schooled missionary's kid who preaches at prisons and responds openly and honestly to crass questions from interviewers and critics alike, seemed the perfect role model for my children.
But something was amiss.
As Tebow put on his NFL cleats a disturbing chatter seemed to grow around him. It seemed that the football "experts" were breaking their necks trying to see who could be more critical of young Tebow and his abilities. They railed against his throwing motion. They railed against his accuracy. They laughed at Josh McDaniels, the then NFL head coach of the Denver Broncos who drafted Tebow in the first round. And they even poked fun at his faith and his purity. My children were learning hard lessons from this, but I guess that's what role models are for.
"Why are they saying so many negative things about him, Dad?"
"Those people sure are being mean to him."
And on it went.
Then nearly a year went by before he got his real shot. There were flashes of excitement in a couple starts his first season, but Tebow didn't win the starting job and was sitting on the bench as the first five games of his second professional season rolled by. Finally, however, Tebow had waited patiently and prepared in obscurity long enough. His opportunity arrived, and just five games into the 2011 regular season, with the Broncos languishing at 1 and 4, Tebow was given his chance.
But nothing is that easy, not even in fairy tales. Tebow's play seemed to justify the claims of the critics. He missed wide-open receivers. He overthrew easy passes. He fumbled. He got sacked in the backfield. He rolled up terrible statistics the likes of which no NFL quarterback could expect to post and still retain his job. All the while the critics howled with their "I told you so's." However, one thing Tebow did was win. In fact, his whole team seemed to start playing better. The defense stepped up to an unbelievable level. Receivers started making stupendous catches. Running backs started nearly defying gravity. And Tebow himself seemed to come alive when the pressure was the greatest and pull victory out of the jaws of defeat - several times.
I am writing this article a bit early. Althought Tim Tebow and the Denver Broncos have won four out of the last five games, anything could still happen and they could end up at the bottom of their division. Their near-miss wins could easily start turning to losses, and if that happens, I have no doubt whatsoever the critics will have a field day once again.
None of that matters, however, because Tebow has already proven something extremely valuable, namely, that while people talk about lack of skill they should never underestimate the power of will. What Tim Tebow brings is leadership. He has that special ability to energize a team of players to each perform at their very own personal best. He inspires, instills confidence, and makes those around him believe that anything can happen if they just have faith. While the statistics bemoan his performance, Tebow proves again and again that there are some components in victory that can't be measured. There are intangibles to greatness that come from deep within, that defy the odds and mystify prognosticators, and that just simply can't be contained.
Leadership matters.
Character matters.
Attitude matters.
The will to win matters.
Critics, however, don't matter.
Tebow has shown all this and more. I personally hope he keeps on winning in his unconventional way, in front of the NFL experts who so haughtily claimed "That's not the way it's done here." The world needs to understand that unconventional doesn't mean wrong, inadequate, or below grade. Unconventional just may mean revolutionary.
They said Tim Tebow wasn't ready for the NFL.
Perhaps the NFL wasn't ready for Tim Tebow.
Posted by Chris Brady at 12:53 AM in Contemporary Leadership, Sports | Permalink | Comments (23) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: Chris Brady, critics, Denver Broncos, leadership, Tim Tebow
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There is nothing like watching excellence in motion. I am always inspired by greatness in life, by someone who has mastered his or her craft, by professionals at the top of their game. In this mesmerizing video sent to me by my friend Ed Zentner, beautiful videography, music, scenery, and finely honed athleticism combine in a visual poem. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and that it inspires you to reach mastery and balance in your own chosen field.
Posted by Chris Brady at 10:25 AM in Music, Sports, Travel | Permalink | Comments (15) | TrackBack (0)
Technorati Tags: Chris Brady, leadership, LIFE, mastery, Orin Woodward
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Well, I was going to leave this one to the side, but so many of you have been writing and asking who won the World Cup contest that you've left me no choice. And the winner is . . . .
ME!
Yup! Go back and look through the comments yourselves, not that you would ever doubt the integrity of such a fine, literary location as this blog! I not only picked the correct overall winner (Spain), but also picked the the Netherlands to finish top 3. No one else who picked the winner got another top 3 pick correct, and those who picked more than one of the top 3 didn't manage to get the correct winner.
Thanks to everyone for participating! It was truly an eventful and exciting World Cup, and it was made even better by matching wits with all three of you readers out there! :)
Stay tuned for four years from now when we will re-run the competition and give you another shot! (Now, if I could just figure out what to do with this autographed copy of my own book . . . .)
Posted by Chris Brady at 05:14 PM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
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Whether one is a sports fan or not, it would be hard to avoid the hype surrounding the 2010 World Cup in South Africa, which begins today. Special edition magazines fill the shelves, newspapers feature full inserts, marketers have plastered signs with advertisements featuring local heroes, and television adds have been running all spring. Just what is all the fuss about?
It's called "The Beautiful Game," and as such, can be quite wonderful. Play never stops, except for halftime, incredible athletic ability is showcased at the top levels, and even a newcomer can observe a game and follow its basic rules and flow. However, there are some detractions, such as fake fouls, over-dramatized injuries, horrendously inconsistent refereeing, and misbehaving fans. Still, soccer ("football" everywhere else but in North America) is a unifying interest around the globe. It is truly THE cosmopolitan sport. I have been on the streets of Venice, Nice, and Cardiff and gotten into conversations with locals inspired by some jersey I was wearing. My children, likewise, have been hugged, high-fived, and saluted because of the donning of their hero's colors. If common ground is the secret to ice breaking, a love of The Beautiful Game has to be one of the most useful for the global traveler.
So each country fields a team featuring its (supposedly) best players, in an Olympic-style face-off of nation vs. nation (or, in football terminology, "nation v. nation"). Patriotism runs rampant, flags and national colors get painted everywhere, and those annoying plastic horns get blown non-stop (one reason English football is my favorite, English fans being much too sophisticated to succumb to such annoying behavior, opting instead for singing hilarious and sometime ribald songs in stadium-unison - an amazing thing to behold!). It's hype and sport-induced tension at its most elevated level.
Really, though, it's just a game, and that matronly reminder may as well be left unsaid, falling on deaf ears as it does. The truth is, who cares if it's just a game? It's fun, it's exciting, and it's entertaining. I, for one, enjoy the spectacle of countries from around the planet coming together in a restrained bit of ball play. It sure is better than war and politics and everything else that passes for important these days.
Besides, I have learned almost as much watching and participating in sports as I have doing anything else. Success, integrity, character, class, victory, defeat, perseverance, practice, training, coaching, mentoring, injury, emotional control, clutch performance, goal-setting, delayed gratification, physical conditioning, team play, game planning, score keeping, performance measuring, feedback, influence, marketing, messaging, motivation, and a thousand other buzzwords are all amplified and communicated through participation in an artificial construct called "Sports." Hey, it works for me.
I know, I know, one can go too far. Certainly. After all, I've got my own dreams to chase. If I were to live too vicariously through a bunch of guys kicking a ball around, I would be deserving of the title spoken in the movie Dumb and Dumber: "One pathetic loser!" But I still enjoy sports, and especially the Beautiful Game - especially at World Cup time.
So take in a game or two. Get interested in the people behind the hype. See if you can find inspiration and warmth in the stories of some of the lives of the athletes, such as Brazilian star Kaka who has recently come to faith in Christ and proclaims it publicly and joyously, or the rag-tag underdog team from the United States, who aren't given much of a chance. Who knows, you just might learn something, and I'm fairly certain you'll be entertained along the way.
My prediction:
1st place: SPAIN
2nd place: BRAZIL
3rd place: NETHERLANDS
(But I'm pulling for the American boys all the way).
Care to offer your predictions? I'll award a signed copy of Orrin Woodward and my best-seller Launching a Leadership Revolution to whomever gets first, second, and third place correct (or the closest). Predictions must be in by Friday, June 11th at 8:00pm EST. Good luck!
Posted by Chris Brady at 11:09 PM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (37) | TrackBack (0)
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Rare is the life that is lived well. Most of us, it seems, crash and bang around the pages of our personal stories, breaking glass and hearts in the process. Regrets litter the wake left behind a life full of mistakes and illusions. Through it all we grow wiser, one would hope.
Every now and then, however, someone comes along and exemplifies much of what we believe is possible, demonstrating virtues such as love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance. Nobody is perfect, but there are people whose very walk becomes their talk, whose excellence gives power to their words in a way we can all admire.
John Wooden passed away the other day at age 99. I am glad the Lord chose to give him long years, because it was during the later of these that Wooden allowed writers to work on projects with him to capture the secrets of his success. John Wooden as a coaching legend is, well, legendary. His achievements have largely remained unsurpassed for nearly thirty-five years. But just as mighty as his coaching success is his life success. He unabashedly proclaimed his belief in Christ, demonstrated how a long and happy marriage was to be accomplished, and lived modestly and kindly till the end. In an age when athletes and superstars, movie stars and political messiahs posture and pose for our admiration, it is heart-warming and refreshing to occasionally come across the real thing; someone who is both authentic and excellent, accomplished and humble, noteworthy and praiseworthy.
Thank you Mr. Wooden for an example well given. In tribute, below are some of the best snippets from his books from which I've learned the most.
* Your family is what counts. You must always remember that as you get caught up in your own professional responsibilities.
* You must be interested in finding the best way, not in having your own way.
* You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving.
* Never believe you're better than anybody else, but remember that you're just as good as everybody else.
* Friendship is so valuable and so powerful. We take it for granted, but we shouldn't.
* You can never make up for a lost day.
* You have to apply yourself each day to become a little better. By applying yourself to the task of becoming a little better each and every day over a period of time, you will become a LOT better.
* Too often we get distracted by what is outside our control. You can't do anything about yesterday. The door to the past has been shut and the key thrown away. You can do nothing about tomorrow. It is yet to come. However, tomorrow is in large part determined by what you do today. So make today a masterpiece. You have control over that.
* Think clearly, have love in your heart, be honest, and trust God.
* Being a role model is the most powerful form of educating.
* Even a stubborn mule responds to gentleness.
* You have little say over how big or how strong or how smart or rich someone else may be. You do have, at least you should have, control of yourself and the effort you give toward bringing out your best in whatever you're doing. This effort must be total, and when it is, I believe you have achieved personal success.
* Try your hardest in all ways and you are a success. Period. Do less than that and you have failed.
* The outcome of a game was simply the by-product of the effort we made to prepare.
* Focus all your effort on what is within your power to control.
* Team Spirit - an eagerness to sacrifice personal interests or glory for the welfare of all.
* You might say that a leader has a simple mission: to get those under his supervision to consistently perform at their peak level in ways that benefit the team.
* A leader must preserve options to be effective.
* Opponents are working very hard to defeat us. Let's not do it for them by defeating ourselves from within.
* As a leader, my job was to do everything possible to help those I allowed to join our team achieve this - to create an environment and attitude that brought out the very best in each of them. Personal greatness for any leader is measured by effectiveness in bringing out the greatness of those you lead.
(Note to readers: I would recommend that anyone involved in leadership of any sort re-read that last one again and again. Actually, one could re-read all of these again and again without harm.)
Posted by Chris Brady at 10:28 PM in LLR Daily Application, Sports | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
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I was sorting through some old files on my computer and came across this article. It was written shortly after my Baja racing experience with my friend and business partner Tim Marks. What a blast! I encourage you to pursue your dreams and dare you to live an adventurous life!
I had never seen snow in the desert before, and can’t really say I was entirely prepared for defending myself against incoming snow balls while relaxing alongside a cactus. But these things can happen to a fellow when he travels with Tim Marks.
So can wounded elbows.
It had been a dream of mine since boyhood, first birthed, I believe, in the mid-motocross years. There I was, all one-hundred-twenty-five pounds of me, long hair and sweat, romping around Michigan’s motocross tracks with amateur ability and professional determination. In the midst of it all, I had the faint notion to drive Baja buggies through the Californian desert (which is in Mexico, we found out). I figured it would be a good diversion for later when I was much older and unable to manhandle a dangerous but colorful instrument of teenage affection known as a motorcycle.
Terri and I had settled in to watch a movie someone had recommended. It was late, and Terri lasted about five minutes. I, however, sat enthralled. There on the silver screen was my boyhood dream in full bloom. Trucks and buggies and motorcycles and quads and even unmodified VW Bugs raced their way across the 1000 mile dry expanse known as the Baja peninsula in perhaps the most infamous and misunderstood race in North America. My dream was reborn!
By the next evening, I was announcing from some stage somewhere to everyone in attendance that I would some day soon be racing the Baja 1000. Everyone cheered. Apparently desert racing is in high favor among people in audiences: a curious fact of which I had previously been ignorant. As the words made their way through the microphone, I realized the desert racing experience was a two-person event. In other words, one would need a co-driver. Such a person does not simply sit in the passenger seat and navigate, although that is among the list of duties. Oh no. Such a person must also handle the enormous responsibilities of trash-talking the driver. Also, for at least some of the time, such a person is needed to drive the vehicle, too. Realizing in a real-time sort of way that I would need such a partner for my resurrected caper, I immediately scanned my database for rich guys that would have the money, crazy guys that would have the guts, and free guys that would have the schedule availability to accompany me in such a venture. Oh yeah, the person would have to be good at motor sports and such, also. So there in front of the world, with absolutely no approval from his person, I told the crowd that Tim Marks would be my partner.
I knew almost immediately, of course, that I had chosen the right mate. This seemed vindicated the next morning when he called me to accept his recently-learned-of appointment (crowds are notoriously bad at keeping secrets), and then finished by saying, “By the way, what is it, again?” Yep. Tim was the man for the job. I decided to give him his extensive formal training by telling him the name of the movie and demanding that he go rent it to prove himself qualified.
That’s how we found ourselves in fancy red and black racing suits and dorky looking elf shoes (“Hey, buddy, they’re driving shoes. And they cost more than your watch!”), standing around in the desert in the snow with a guy named “Sto” and several others who were extremely accomplished at swearing. One of the other cars had blown a clutch and we were awaiting the chase vehicle with a bunch of mechanic-fellas that spoke a language we didn’t understand (a mixture of Spanish, swearing, and shop talk). The snow was a little bit of a surprise, because, after all, we were in a desert. The swearing was no surprise because, after all, we were with guys who liked to talk about gears and oil and smash bear cans against their foreheads.
Two days later, though, we were fully acclimated. We had both agreed that by the third day our driving was “expert” level and probably worthy of the national news. We had also grown accustomed to just about anything being in the desert, from trash to upside-down-burned-out-car-carcasses, to wild horses, to whoop-de-dos ten feet deep, to pine forests, to silt trails, to rock-strewn goat trails, to freezing cold rain, to children on mules, to guys on quads, to station wagons full of the entire family apparently heading to church located nobody-knows-where, to sewage rivers coming from a drug rehab center, to trail-side beer stands, to cows and more cows, and yes, to snow. And also one very large washout less than ten miles from camp on the last day.
It was Tim’s fault.
I saw it first-hand.
Something happened to him, knowing that our time in the desert was almost over. In freezing cold desert rain, between dirty-t-shirt wipes of our racing helmet shields, Tim Marks went over the edge. Literally. And my elbow paid the price.
The rain had muddied up the trail significantly, to the point where the car would no longer track well (meaning, it slid around like a snake). This was especially interesting since the trail was along the side of a mountain and one possible alternative was a deadly plunge to the canyon hundreds of feet below (okay, maybe fifty feet below). Also, the brakes had gone out. Again. When it had happened on the previous day, we thought it was a big deal, too. But we weren’t such good drivers way back then. Now we were third day experts, and fully capable of handling a little thing like nonexistent brakes on a switchback mountain trail. Seriously, what were transmissions for, if not for moments like this? I wasn’t worried, even though I was in the co-driver seat. Tim had proven himself more than capable behind the wheel. Only I hadn’t seen the “end of adventure fever” coming. It struck Tim like Cupid’s dart plowing into a love-sick adolescent at the county picnic.
Suddenly Tim’s face became animated. His laugh became sinister. His eyes were immediately bloodshot. His speech became slurred. And the car went faster and faster. First it slammed nose-first into puddles we had learned to avoid so deftly before. Several of these doused us in a shower of muddy rain (and other substances. Please refer back to earlier comments about the drug rehab place). Next it slid off the road sideways where its open wheels chopped desert tree limbs like a saw blade and courteously delivered them into our windshield-free cockpit. When I complained a little about the forest we had collected amongst our seats, Tim’s only replay was something about it being “potpourri.” Then we almost slid off the canyon’s side into a really good story, but Tim saved us by slamming the car’s front end directly into the cliff wall and trying to climb it like a small puppy stuck in a tall bath tub. And then, without warning, it happened. Tim showed no mercy and drove our Baja buggy (affectionately named “Debbie”) directly through a big, enormous, mind-blowing washout. There was no warning. One minute we were fine, the next minute we were experiencing at least twelve G’s, our helmets rebounding off the top roll bar cage. It is still a marvel of desert racing engineering that the entire back of our car didn’t eject itself from the chassis. That must be because most of the force from the blow was actually absorbed by my elbow.
Three days of driving like maniacs and I sustain an injury ten miles from the end. It’s okay, though. Experienced adventurers know how to treat wounds out in the wild. We must be capable of first-aid in order to live the life we live. I began healing my wound almost immediately. By applying layer upon layer of shame on Tim for his driving mishap, the pain seemed to deaden a little bit. And by writing this article, I really must admit I can no longer feel a thing. See? I know what I’m doing. The pen is truly mightier than the bandage.
Besides. A desert elbow injury is still better than a day at work!
Thanks Tim, for the reminder.Posted by Chris Brady at 12:37 PM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
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On September 27, 2008, the favored Florida Gators football team was upset in a stunning loss to Ole Miss. The Gators, led by the soft-spoken, Christ-declaring, Heisman Trophy winning (last season) quarterback Tim Tebow (home schooled, by the way, with parents who are missionaries), quickly lost their goal of an undefeated season. Their national standings also slipped, of course, and they were forced to play the rest of the year in catch-up mode.
Posted by Chris Brady at 01:27 PM in Sports | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBack (0)
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