My ability to identify issues and help enhance sports experiences goes back a long way.  Let me share one interesting example.

 

Way back when I was in college, there was a basketball court near our dorm with low rims.  Many of us found it fun to go there and try to dunk like the pros.  It wasn't easy, even at the lowered height, especially for shorter people like myself and my friend "Henry."

 

One day, Henry and I and our friend "Jim" took a walk over there.  Jim didn't play basketball at all, but he came along anyway.  Henry wasn't really a basketball player either, but he wanted to try some dunks.

 

Try as he might, Henry couldn't throw one down.  He tried over and over, but his technique wasn't very good and he just couldn't put everything together to slam it with authority.

 

Eventually he decided to try a different technique.  Instead of running toward the hoop, he just stood right below it and jumped straight up off two feet and tried to slam it that way.  That didn't work either, but he was getting closer than I expected.  He kept trying and failing, and he was getting tired and discouraged, as Jim and I looked on.  Jim pointed out that Henry wasn't getting high enough.  He kept getting stuck at the rim, and to dunk the basketball he would have to get his hands and the ball almost a foot higher than the rim. 

 

"He's not even close," Jim observed.

 

I watched Henry a little more closely.  I watched how he jumped, how he held the ball, and looked for anything I could think of that could help, despite the fact that I was not an expert basketball player and certainly not known for my dunking.

 

"Give it up," Jim yelled.  "Let's go."

 

"Hold on a minute," I said.

 

I noticed that Henry was standing as close to the basket as he could.  This made sense, because he knew he didn't have room to spare.  He had to make every inch count, but he still couldn't get the ball up and over the rim high enough to slam it back down.

 

"I have an idea." 

 

I suggested that Henry take a step back, further away from the basket.

 

"You mean to take a step before jumping?" he asked.

 

"No.  Just do it the same way.  But start further away."

 

"How will that help?  I already can't get high enough.  This will make it worse."

 

I told him I thought there was a chance he was actually being blocked by the rim.  If his jump was more in front of the rim and less below it, his existing jump might be enough to clear it.

 

Jim was skeptical, and Henry was too.  But he was willing to give it a try.  He held the ball, and took a step back.  I admit, that rim looked higher and farther away than ever, and I'm sure Henry felt that way too.

 

"Just jump and do it," I said.  "Same as before."

 

Henry jumped. 

 

WHAM!

 

A rim-rattling jam!  Oh....My....God....

 

"Whoa!!  No way.  Do it again!" Jim yelled.

 

And Henry did.  And then a third time.

 

He went on to slam it down about 10 more times before we all headed back.  Even I was surprised how effective my suggestion turned out to be.  We were all about 19 at the time, and I was not an expert by any means.  But simply by watching Henry and giving some thought to what I saw, the solution came to me.  In theory, anyone who was there that day could have done the same.  But most people don't look at things this way.  I try to, and sometimes, it leads to a pretty dramatic result. 

 

Henry could have spent months training to jump higher or developing a better technique.  But armed with only my simple observation and a small suggestion, he was able to "jump higher" immediately.

 

Is it always this easy?  Are the results always this impressive?  No.  Of course not.  But as TheSportsTutor, I've learned that sometimes a little goes a long way.