It has been a season of firsts. This is the first time I’ve coached a team that has only won one game all year. It is the first season that I had to kick a boy off the team. And, for the first time in my life, an umpire ejected me from a game.
I could make excuses for getting thrown out, but I won’t. The truth is I lost my temper and argued one too many calls. I didn’t use bad language, and I didn’t do the Billy Martin kicking-sand-on-the-ump’s-shoes routine, but I acted out of character and was given the hook.
It was pretty embarrassing and more than a little humbling. The next day, I began making my round of apologizes: the other team’s coaches, the ump, my friends at the recreation department and the boys on my team.
A week later, I had to kick one of our best players off the team. I tried not to. I had talked with him two or three times, but finally I had no choice. I told him he was no longer a Dodger. He strode away in defiance.
Two days later he called as a much humbler boy and asked if he could rejoin the team. I invited him to address the team and apologize at our team picnic.
After a couple of rounds of hot dogs and watermelon, I gathered the team in the corner of my back yard. I cleared my throat and began a little speech that had been ruminating in my mind all day.
“Fellas, I want to share a life lesson with you.” They listened intently, sensing my seriousness.
“Every one of us is going to do something that we regret at some point. Every one of us is going to hurt some of the people that we care about the most. Every one of us will have an episode that if caught on camera and posted on You Tube, would make us look like the biggest jerk in the world. Every one of us.”
“When you’ve let someone down, or have hurt someone, there are nine powerful words that you look them straight in the eye and say…” I raised one finger at a time as I punctuated each word.
“I am sorry, I was…”
“Wait a minute coach, you’re going too fast,” one of my comedians quipped.
“I am sorry, I was wrong, please forgive me.”
With that introduction, Bobby (not his real name) stepped up and owned his actions. He was apologetic and sincere, but he didn’t grovel.
“I’m sorry, guys. I let the whole team down. I’m sorry.” It was a beautiful sight to see the guys gather around him, shake his hand and welcome him back.
The next Sunday, I found a member of our church in tears in the corner of the lobby. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Oh Pastor Doug, I’m afraid I’ve really hurt someone I love.” She told me about something said in the heat of the moment.
I wasn’t planning on telling my congregation about this, but I found myself sharing with her that I had been ejected from a game. She was surprised to hear that her pastor had lost his temper…surprised, but also grateful. It seemed to give her relief to know that I had messed up.
I told her that I apologized to all concerned. I told her about Bobby. I told her about the nine powerful words. In the process of doing so, it dawned on me, that my sharing a weakness with her helped her more than sharing from a position of strength.
The truth is we are all weak at times. We all act uncharacteristic of who we are at times. We all blow it and make a mess of things from time to time. We know this, and those who love us know it, too.
So, here’s a suggestion. The next time you act out of character—don’t hide it—own it. Go to those you’ve offended or let down, look them straight in the eye and apologize. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try to tell your side of the story. Own it. Take responsibility for your actions. You might try using nine powerful words: “I am sorry, I was wrong, please forgive me.”
If you do, you’ll be surprised at the quiet, sincere grace that you will receive. This is especially true when a dad gets down on a knee and looks a seven-year-old in the eye to apologize and ask for forgiveness. Usually hugs follow, as does a clear conscious.
I have found the Apostle Paul’s words to be true: sometimes we are the strongest when we admit we have been weak (2 Corinthians 12:9).
