What did I have in common with NBA All-Stars and 4th-grade AAU players?

After a game, we both reached for a piece of paper summarizing the stats—the box score. The players were looking for their points, and I was looking to see who reffed the game. Among several stats, the box score will show points, assists, rebounds, fouls, turnovers, etc. 

It will also identify the three officials who worked the game.

Players and our culture are obsessed with flashy highlights—alley-oops, step-back 3s, and cross-overs when the defender falls flat on the ground. Good screens, diving on the floor for a loose ball, being a great teammate, and having excellent body language don’t make the Top 10 on Sportscenter, and they don’t show up in a box score, either.

It’s fitting that a box score can be shortened to BS. We overlook the more profound, meaningful contributions to the team and only focus on the ‘highlight’ aspects.

It has been 1,496 days since I’ve officiated a college basketball game. Until about two months ago, I was still looking at box scores to see who was officiating. Why? For what? I could give you a surface-level answer to justify my actions. But that’s rationalization. As Jordan Peterson says, rationalization is a self-serving explanation for a low-quality action.

The truth: I was stuck in the past.

Throughout my officiating career, my mentality was always grateful but never satisfied. I was thankful for all the opportunities I worked hard but wanted more than the status quo. I always sought growth through mentors, watching film, and feedback from other officials.

My spiritual journey has been similar: seek out mentors, get in the word, and pray daily. I’m grateful for what God has revealed but not complacent about what I can become in His eyes.

I’ve prayed daily for the past few months: “God, please continue to introduce me to who I’m becoming in your eyes. Please point out anything in me that isn’t serving you and holding me back.”

I realized that when I became honest, open, and vulnerable with God, he, in turn, gently pointed out some things in my heart that were holding me back. I would randomly go online and pull up the box scores of conferences I used to officiate in. As soon as I identified the three officials, two emotions would usually rise to the surface in one second: jealousy and judgment.

I was jealous of the officials, some of whom are my close friends, and probably follow this blog. Then, I judged their assignment and convinced myself: “I’m better than that guy; I should be working that game.”

My heart was filled with resentment, pride, and what could have been. Then one day in prayer, after praying this prayer for many weeks, God spoke:

It’s hard to see where you are going if you keep looking where you’ve been.

Since then, when the urge pops up to see who worked a game, I pause and ask myself… “How is this helping me become a better husband, dad, speaker, or follower?” It doesn’t-so there’s no need to sit and wallow in the past.

I’m not checking; even if it only takes 20 seconds and a few clicks, it doesn’t add more bitterness. It becomes an opportunity for gratitude and what I DO have in my life, not what I miss out on.

Besides, looking at the box score to see how many points someone scored or who worked the game is BS, and it only tells part of the story.

A good reminder for all of us: It’s hard to see where you are going if you keep looking where you’ve been.

What are the ‘box scores’ in your life that keep you from seeing the actual game?