Basketball fans can still hear the words, “And now, the starting lineup for your Chicago Bulls . . .” The words echoed as Pippen, Grant, Cartwright, Armstrong, and Jordan were announced. High schools and colleges still imitate these now famous words.

Hockey Chat:  Can you imagine during a game have a bunch of guys sitting on the bench.  Then a skater comes up from your team ready to line change and every one on the bench just looks at each other.  No one knows who is going to what position.  Who’s up next?  No pre-thought to what happens next, just confusion.  Great teams know ahead of time who is going where and when.  The coach has planned what line to go out next.  He’s placed the players where they will be most effective and with others they will be effective skating with.

Lately I’ve been having some “if I” moments in my life. I love the TV show “The Biggest Loser” and wonder how, if I lost some weight, my knee might not hurt as much. But then I don’t change how I eat or exercise. Then I hear my friends talking about playing hoops on Saturday mornings and think that, if I try to play, I could get back into shape again. But then I never make the effort to try. My intentions are good, but my heart is not changing. What’s the deal?

A few weeks ago my family travelled to San Francisco to support my dad in the Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon. The athletes actually swam 1.5 miles from Alcatraz Island to the shore, completed an 18-mile bike ride and then finished with an 8-mile run.

It’s usually a good rule of thumb to stay away from stereotypes and cultural clichés in order to avoid potentially embarrassing confrontations with the obligatory “exception to the rule.” But in Curtis Brown’s case, even he admits that a predictable portion of life in Saskatchewan—his native Canadian province—can be described in two words: farming and hockey.

Born in the small rural town of Unity, Brown grew up on a farm where he instinctively fell in line with the majority of his young friends. “What Canadians do is hockey,” Brown says. “I was probably about four when I started skating. I was just like the other kids. If you didn’t play hockey, you were definitely an outsider.”

If we were to count on our hands the number of times someone has let us down or the number of times we’ve disappointed someone else, we’d definitely run out of fingers! Because we are human, we fail all the time, whether in relationships, careers, or daily disciplines. In fact, our life on earth seems full of opportunities to learn from our mistakes. So it’s a good thing we have promises like Psalm 103:12, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.”

I was the youngest varsity basketball coach in Indiana. I studied older coaches to gain knowledge, but one area to which I never paid enough attention was when to talk and when to keep quiet. I learned the hard way: by my second year of coaching, I’d received more than ten technical fouls, not for bad language, but for opening my mouth at the wrong time. These failures made me wonder if I’d ever master control over my tongue.

Solomon knew that there is a time for speaking and a time to guard our mouths, and many of us would do well to learn his lesson. All too often our lips keep moving when we should be listening. We fall too easily into traps made by our own speech; we forget that if our mouth doesn’t open, we will not be creating a trap to fall into.