Archive for Parenting Tips
Ten Thousand Hours
Posted by: | CommentsMy beautiful wife is currently reading through Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers. It’s a great book, and one that has application to what I wrote yesterday. She reminded me of this quote,
The idea that excellence at performing a complex task requires a critical minimum level of practice surfaces again and again in studies of expertise. In fact, researchers have settled on what they believe is the magic number for true expertise: ten thousand hours.
“The emerging picture from such studies is that ten thousand hours of practice is required to achieve the level of mastery associate with being a world-class expert – in anything,” writes the neurologist Daniel Levitin. “In study after study, of composers, basketball players, fiction writers, ice-skaters, concert pianists, chess players, master criminals, and what have you, this number comes up again and again. Of course, this doesn’t address why some people get more out of their practices sessions than others do. But no one has yet found a case in which true, world-class expertise was accomplished in less time. It seems that it takes the brain this long to assimilate all that it needs to know to achieve true mastery.”
As Gladwell makes plain in his book, this isn’t the whole story, but it is certainly a big part. At the very least, it makes me feel better about shooting those long-distance threes.
7 – Emphasize the Importance and Rewards of Practice
Posted by: | CommentsI have gotten away from my series for the past few weeks, Passing on the Game. So by way of reminder, my focus in this series is how we can love something and, in a healthy way, seek to pass on that love to our children. In my circumstance, I am talking about basketball, but my hope is that these principles will apply to many other things as well.
You can check out the outline here. Today we move on to point #7:
Emphasize the Importance and Rewards of Practice
I suppose I could say that as a professional basketball player, I have a somewhat unique style of play. At least on the offensive side of the ball, I tend to be effective, but usually not in the typical fashion. I score, but the way in which I score usually isn’t ‘normal.’ Oftentimes, I score in transition or make shots that most players won’t normally take. I might take a three from 28 feet, for example, or shoot a fadeaway jump shot off one foot.
Because I play this way, I often get some very interesting reactions from fans and even coaches. Oftentimes people have said, “I love to watch you play, but I do think you are a bit crazy!” Or my coaches may say, “That is never a good shot.”
The interesting thing about these statements (and the thing that applies to our point here), is that there is usually a thought process behind them that forgets about the importance and the rewards of practice. For more often than not, people assume a certain shot is crazy (and not a good one) simply because most players don’t shoot that kind of shot. They don’t ask themselves how much I have practiced that shot or for how many years I have been doing it. They just think, “I haven’t seen that much before, so it must be crazy.”
Naturally, I think this is a mistaken view of things. So if I have the chance to respond, I usually say, “I know it might seem crazy, but I don’t think you would think it so crazy if you could have seen the thousands and thousands of times I have made that shot before. Or if you considered the fact that I have been shooting many of those shots on a consistent basis for 18 years of my life. I agree it might be crazy for some people to shoot those shots. But that is because they never practice them. From my vantage point, I would be crazy not to shoot such shots, for I have been practicing them for years!”
More often than not, people will say, “Huh, I never thought about it that way before.” (Though coaches aren’t so quick to come around!) It’s an honest and faithful reply. And a very human one. For somehow, someway, we as human beings oftentimes forget the law of sowing and reaping. Especially, when it comes to sports, we often see only the reaping and thus, forget the thousands of practice hours that were invested into the few hours of play.
And our children do the same. At least when it comes to my children, they don’t naturally ‘get’ the law of sowing and reaping. Or they don’t want to. So I make it a point to emphasize time and again the importance and rewards of practice.
I might do it more than I need to, but I do not want my children to watch any sort of sport or listen to any musician and think only, “My, how gifted they are.” True as it may be, it is certainly not the whole truth. For often enough there is more talent sitting on a couch somewhere watching the same game. While recognizing the gifts, I also want them to recognize the hours of practice that went into developing those gifts.
So when a big free throw in made at the end of a game we are watching, I turn to my son and ask him, “Elijah, why did he make that free throw? Why was he prepared to do well in that moment?” He knows the answer, so he smiles and says, “He practiced.” Or when he watches Lionel Messi (the best soccer player in the world) score some incredible, even outrageous and unique, goal, I ask him the same. And he responds, “Practice.”
And so it goes for sports or math facts or music or whatever. I am desperate for my children to understand that if they want to reap well, they better sow well. If they want to enjoy the pleasures of greatness (or proficiency), they better practice.
But there is one more thing: I want them to understand that although there are many rewards to practice, proficiency really is one of the best. I want them to realize that if I am viewing things rightly, I practice with a view towards more pleasurable play. I want them to realize that when all is said and done, greater freedom and joy in playing the game can only be found when you put in the practice.
That makes sense right? Shooting a basketball is more fun when it actually has a good chance of going in. Playing a game (or an instrument) is more fun when you don’t have to think about what you are doing. You can just play. And guess what? You won’t have to think much if you put in good practice. Practice serves the pleasure of proficient performance (say that 10 times fast). Joyful play is the end goal. The pleasure of knowing God’s pleasure is what it is ultimately all about. Or at least what it should be about.
O how desperate we are for a generation of kids who will understand the importance and rewards of practice (in every area of life)! Let’s serve them well by emphasizing this point the way we ought.
6 – Make learning fun.
Posted by: | CommentsJohn Wooden once said,
You have to work hard, and you have to enjoy what you’re doing. If you don’t enjoy it, no matter how hard you seem to work, you’re not going to be working as hard as you can because you’re not enjoying it….Work without joy is drudgery. Drudgery does not produce champions, nor does it produce great organizations.
This is why point #6 in Passing on the Game is…
Make learning fun.
I have spent virtually my entire life playing basketball, so I suppose I don’t have a lot of experience out in the ‘real’ world (I think it should be called the ‘normal’ world by the way, because the professional sports world is plenty real), but it seems to me that no matter what you do, you inevitably do things better when you do them with joy. When you really love what you are doing, really believe in it, you are able to pour more of yourself into it. And it shows. You reap what you sow. Your energy and enthusiasm shines through your product.
This seems to be true on all levels. Whether making a work presentation, writing a blog post, caring for your kids, playing music or even doing a menial job. In anything. Your delight in your work may be the most important factor to doing good work. How much you enjoy doing what you do has a definite and even practical impact upon how well you do it.
Well, if this is true in most or all of life, it is especially true in sports. For good athletic competition demands your all. Indeed, as most athletes (of every level) will attest to, the joy of sports is found in giving your all. Wholehearted competition is where the freedom and fullness of play is found. And losing yourself in the game is hard to do if you are holding back.
Good practice is meant to be an extension of that sweet joy. It is not simply something you are supposed to endure because you have to, but something you should enjoy, something you should be able to lose yourself in.
This doesn’t mean it is always easy or even something you always want to do. It just means it is something you can find delight in. Sure, it might be difficult. But I think it is very human and very normal (or at least it should be normal) to find delight in doing difficult things or in mastering specific and very defined skills. In fact, I tend to think that we all have a few skills (or things) we would really love to master (and I mean legitimate things, not video games – though I have a few of them as well).
As a Christian, I believe the Lord created us not simply to develop the potential around us, but to also develop the potential within us. And if there is the potential and desire for athletic greatness (or even athletic half-decentness), then diligent practice is required. And not just any practice, but practice inundated with joy.
So with all that said, it is my belief that if we want to pass on the game well, we will do all we can to make learning fun. To make it easy to practice with delight.
How can we do so in a healthy manner? Here are a few thoughts…
1) Know that we can’t ultimately do so.
What I mean by that, is that when all is said and done, we don’t have full control over whether or not our child (or player) really loves to practice or play. I mean, a delight in the game isn’t something we can force on anyone. All we can do is fuel the fire. But if there is obviously no fire to begin with, well, what are you going to do, force one to burn? Practice until it does? Come on. We all know how that ends up.
The first step to making learning fun is to recognize that you aren’t the author of another’s love for the game. Healthy practice techniques start here.
2) Always come up with games and competition.
No matter what age or level, we all love to play games and to compete. At the very least we love a challenge. So on one hand, I could tell a kid, “Dribble with your right hand 100xs.” Or I could say, “See if you can walk around the court and dribble with your right hand without missing the line.” Chances are he will dribble 500xs walking around the court and enjoy it 5xs more.
Or I could say to my son, “Shoot 100 jumpshots.” He might make it to shot 27 and half-heartedly shoot most of them. So I like to say, “I am going to shoot at this end of the court and make 60 free throws. Do you think you can make 40 shots on your hoop before I do so?” Chances are he will fire up a ton of shots and enjoy every minute of it because he is trying to beat his dad.
This line of thinking also works well in the team realm. Not simply emphasizing play, but also emphasizing the challenge of mastering certain fundamental skills, both individually and as a team. The big key to this point, however, is that it usually requires more thought up front by the parent or coach. You can’t be lazy and employ this point well.
3) Emphasize imagination.
This might not have direct application to practicing every sport, but when it comes to practicing hoops, there is a definite link between a healthy imagination and a healthy delight in practice – especially when you are practicing by yourself. Think about it: How many great basketball players have spent hours upon hours in the gym or on the courts by themselves? What do you think they were doing? Just drills? No, they were playing hundreds of games and hitting thousands of game-winning shots with their imaginations.
At least that is what I did for hours on end as a kid. My home court at Kindle School wasn’t just a playground. When I was there, it turned into a place where imaginary games were played and won. I can’t tell you how many game winners I hit there (and how many I missed and had to go chasing because the ball bounced over the fence).
Of course I did my drills, but I spent more time at play, using my imagination, scoring all sorts of points, winning all sorts of championships. My imagination was key. Indeed, it was the primary reason why I usually didn’t want to leave.
I want my son to enjoy the same sorts of moments, so I will do all I can to fuel the fires of his imagination and to put him in the position to lose himself in such play. For even now I find that such imaginative times are the best practices of all.
Quote on Imitation
Posted by: | CommentsIn his book, The Breaks of the Game, David Halberstam spends some time profiling former Portland Trailblazers’ player, Lionel Hollins (now the coach of the Memphis Grizzlies). He writes,
Lionel Hollins had been in high school when Walt Frazier and Earl Monroe comprised the New York backcourt and the Knicks were the most exciting team in basketball. Television had loved the Knicks then, a great team in a major media market, three blacks, two whites in the starting lineup, and it had beamed their images into the tiny home in Las Vegas where Lionel lived. He soon came to idolize both guards. Walt Frazier’s poster – huge and in color, showing the great New York backcourt man, eyes sly as could be, almost hooded as if to conceal their devious intent, the steal –had adorned Lionel’s room. Hour after hour, Lionel had practiced on the court, not what some local coach told him to, but in the new modern manner, what he had seen, not Monroe’s spinning whirling dervish moves (for they were not natural to him) but the graceful moves and steals of Walt Frazier.
I think that serves as a great example of what I focused upon in one of my posts last week regarding the power of imitation in coaching/teaching. And there is no way he is the only one who can serve as such an example. Lionel Hollins owned his development as a player by in large part just practicing what he saw his favorite player do. It worked well for him not simply because he was talented, but because in doing so, he was tapping into the natural learning process. Imitating the moves of your heroes and practicing those moves time and time again is, in my opinion, not only a simple way to get better, but maybe the most effective of all.
5 – Show more than tell. Then show some more.
Posted by: | CommentsIn my last post on this topic, I said that one of the most difficult temptations for coaches (and parents) to resist is the tendency to over-coach or over-instruct. The main reason I think that is the case is because in their zeal to help their players or children improve, they often get in the way of the best teacher – pure play.
But I also think there is a darker reason for why many coaches tend to over-coach or over-instruct. It is one I have had to face myself frankly (when instructing), and one that I have seen time and time again as a player. It is an uncomfortable one, but a very real one and, if left unchecked, one that often ruins the connection between player and coach (or parent).
The reason? It is the desire of the coach (or parent) to make himself useful or to justify his position or to speed along the learning process or to feel like he has some semblance of control.
That might sound harsh, but it does make sense when you think about mankind’s great tendency to make a life for himself by his works. Not only that, but it makes sense in light of the how frustrating the coaching experience can be because of how little coaches are actually able to control. Even more, it makes complete sense in light of the great emphasis on ‘success’ and the desire to achieve that success at all costs (this is especially true in college and professional sports). When you have to win to keep your job, it is very difficult not to ‘instruct’ more than you ought.
I have often said that many practices and film sessions I have sat through as a player haven’t really been for me and my team. At least not ultimately. The driving force behind many wasn’t necessarily the good of the team, but the protection of the coach. They were often designed not so much to make us better, but to make sure the coach could say, “Hey, I covered everything and did everything I did to prepare these guys. Now it’s on them.”
And this is true even when it comes to personal instruction. I have done it to a certain degree myself. For when you are paid to help someone improve, it is difficult not to over-instruct in order to make them feel like they are getting their monies worth. So you teach away and usually say all sorts of good, legitimate things. But in the end, you often say and instruct so much that you cause more confusion.
This leads us to point #5.
Show more than tell. Then show some more.
I am not sure how this correlates to other disciplines or activities (though I definitely have some ideas), but in the realm of sports, instruction by imitation seems to work best. By far. A few words are helpful, yes. But not too many. Too many words tend to confuse. It’s better to show than to tell.
I have seen this time and again with my son and with others at various levels of play. I learned early on with my boy that if I tried to explain anything to him about shooting a basketball, he would make an absolute mess of the jump shot and he wouldn’t really enjoy trying. But if I just tell him to do what I do, his jump shot looks pretty sweet and he is freed up to have fun shooting away. I can remember times when I started to forget this lesson and tried to talk to him about the ‘right’ way to shoot. “Keep the ball on your fingertips. Have a good follow through, etc.” He’d barely get the ball to the rim and wouldn’t look good doing it. He’d also want to go home quite quickly. So I would say, “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just watch me shoot for a minute and then fire away.” The results were immediate and the fun evident.
I have also seen this be effective with kids of all ages and even professionals. Over-thinking seems to stifle the body’s ability to do what it knows naturally how to do (or at least to empower it to learn the way it best learns). When it comes to teaching your body how to perform a specific physical skill like shooting the ball a certain way or swinging a golf club, you just can’t handle too much instruction. One or two things maybe. But after that, you have to let go and just let your body learn how to hit or shoot the ball. No doubt you will want some instruction. The key, however, is that you won’t want too much instruction. The good instructor will teach you not simply with words, but by example, and by helping you get out of your own way.
It’s funny, but when I work with higher level players, they often ask me what they are doing wrong on their jump shot or what they could improve technically. Usually I might point out one or maximum, two things. But then I say, “Honestly, the biggest thing you have to do is to get out of your own way. For the most part, you are fine. Just shoot the ball. Practice without thinking about it until it goes in as much as you would like it to.”
Profound right? Not at all. But it usually proves very helpful. And it is a lesson that I have to remind myself of time and again. If I want the ball to go in, I just have to shoot it. Try to make it and you are bound to increase your chances for a miss. Fire away and it will probably go in.
I hope that by this time you see how this second part of the post connects with the first. For as a parent or a coach, it takes a good deal of confidence in the natural learning process to say and really believe these sort of things. Not only that, but it takes you giving up control or the desire to justify your place as a coach. For when you rely upon imitation and practice and have to force yourself to keep your mouth more or less shut, you might lose a bit of your status. It might even look like you aren’t helping that much. You become more of a guide and, most tellingly, make yourself more dispensable.
But isn’t this exactly the point? It should be. You don’t want to be needed. Right? You want your players or children to be able to do the skill on their own, without relying on you to give them consistent instruction. At least I hope.
The simple fact is that many coaches struggle with this. Especially coaches that are paid by the hour. Or ones with a great pressure to win. But the interesting thing is that in my experience, the more you allow the player to own the learning process, the more effective you are and the more he or she will want to come to you for help.
That’s right, they will keep coming back, because it is fun for them to do so, indeed because they want to. You might even think to yourself, “I am not really doing anything for you.” But that is largely the point. You are helping them by doing exactly what you should. Keeping things simple, empowering them to learn as they best learn for their good.
And the beauty of it is that this mentality serves them well not simply by enabling them to improve, but by giving them the opportunity to own their improvement and most importantly, to grow in their enjoyment of the game itself. Showing more than telling is not only about teaching them how to play the game, but teaching them how to love the game. And isn’t that the most important thing of all?
