37:51 and 2,715
March 3, 2025
Billy Donovan has enjoyed a remarkable record of success as a basketball coach. As the head coach at the University of Florida for 19 years he led the Gators to consecutive NCAA championships in 2006 and 2007. Donovan left Gainesville at the end of the 2015 season to coach in the NBA, first with the Oklahoma City Thunder and now currently with the Chicago Bulls.
As a coach, his career should be considered as nothing less than exemplary.
Donovan shares a story about success and failure that provides wisdom for each of us.
One of his best players suffered what some would consider an “off night.” He shot just two of 11 from the field one evening, certainly not a high conversion rate in a sport where typically a 40% mark is required to enter the realm of acceptability. Following his performance the player scapegoated himself for not only the team’s loss, but his output.
Coach Donovan consoled his athlete after glancing at statistics from the game. He noted the player had logged 38 minutes of playing time. Facing him the coach asked him about the nine missed shots. “How long does it usually require to attempt a shot,” he asked. After a moment of consideration, the player answered, “I suppose about a second.” Donovan, calculating quickly responded with, “so you’re letting a total of nine disappointing seconds offset, delegitimize, and ruin the other 37 minutes and 51 seconds where your play may well have been outstanding and a contributing factor in allowing us to be competitive?”
Are we not sometimes like the player? Focusing on the 4/10ths of one percent of our personal and professional lives when the other 99.6% has been at least acceptable, if not often stellar? How we beat ourselves up. Allowing for grief and inconsolable wailing in many instances when there’s already been a forgiveness.
In an article on self-forgiveness from the “verywell mind,” therapist Kendra Cherry writes about how easy it can be to forgive others and not ourselves. It is not a matter of letting yourself off the hook, nor is it necessarily a sign of weakness. Rather it is a case of accepting the behavior and the results, and adopting a willingness to move past what happened, rather than ruminating over past events that can’t be changed.
She offers a seven step approach:
1. Understand your emotions.
2. Accept responsibility for what happened.
3. Treat yourself with kindness and compassion.
4. Express remorse.
5. Make amends and apologize, including to yourself.
6. Look for ways to learn from the experience.
7. Focus on doing better in the future.
Admittedly I still can ruminate over things I did or didn’t do years ago. An inconsiderate comment. A poor decision. A missed opportunity. An embarrassing gaffe.
Bill Buckner was an outstanding professional baseball player. During a more than 20 year career, mostly with the Dodgers, Cubs, and Red Sox, he compiled a .289 lifetime batting average with 2,715 hits, seven seasons batting more than .300, and three seasons of 100 rbi’s. He was the National League batting champion in 1980.
Yet it was one play during the 1986 World Series between the Red Sox and the Mets that defined his career. Boston, leading the heavily favored New Yorkers three games to two, was in an extra inning tussle in Game 6. The Mets rallied in the bottom of the 10th with three straight singles with two outs. Up comes Mookie Wilson. The speedy Wilson fouled off several pitches before hitting a slow roller to Buckner at first base. Buckner, aware of Wilson’s swiftness, rushed the ball. In haste the ball rolled through his legs and into shallow right field, allowing the runner on 3rd base to score and the Mets to win. Had the ball been fielded cleanly there would have been another inning. The Red Sox went on to lose game 7 the next night and thus the Series.
Long suffering Red Sox fans, who to that point had not celebrated a World Championship for 68 years, were incensed. The following season Buckner was heckled and booed by the frustrated fan base. There were even death threats. Despite acceptable stats in 1987, the Red Sox released him in the middle of that season. He went on to play a few more years with several teams, including the Red Sox again, before retiring in 1990.
Buckner forgave himself by coming to terms with his infamy and making fun of himself. He also accepted the forgiveness of the Boston fans and the media. He befriended Mookie Wilson. He signed autographs with him. He returned to Fenway Park in Boston in 2008 to throw out the first pitch for the home opener. He received a two-minute ovation from the crowd.
It's far past time to dwell on the nine seconds or the costly error. Give yourself an ovation for the other 37:51 and your many hits.
The Seed Sower