Once, I went on a missions trip to inner city Nashville.  The neighborhood we worked in was a housing project named after a Confederate general, Joe Johnston.  It was formerly a tent city for freed Southern slaves.

Our team went to a basketball court where some gang members were playing.  The host organization’s leader said one of us had to participate in the pickup game.  Our team was young and I was one of the older ones, so I got volumtold to play.

And as I’ve usually done, I guard like a bat out of hell.  All the dribbling tricks in the world don’t matter a bit if you can keep your balance, eye on the ball, and your feet loose.

I could guard anyone.  Asian, black, white, Latino, alien.  

And so it was anywhere else – courtroom, boardroom, classroom.

Don’t get me wrong, I was scared as hell most of the time.

Until I focused on the man in front of me.

Then it was all game.