The Solo Act: Why I Thought I Didn’t Need Teamwork

I didn’t care much for teamwork when I was single, and especially not when I was raising kids. How about you?

I bet you’ve even thought, “The only way to get anything done around here is to do it myself.” And then, that one time you try out this so-called teamwork thing, it’s an epic fail. No one does what they are supposed to, and somehow, it all falls back on your shoulders. I warned you, “Get out of my way!” Yep, guilty as charged.

A Lesson from Dad: The Power of Passing the Ball

But I’ve got a World-Champion-basketball-player-coach Dad who’s as active in retirement as he ever was when he was still in the game. He’s no longer leaping and shooting baskets, but the one thing that will never change–he’s always passing the ball, showing us how important teamwork is.

And he patiently watches me as I hog the ball and try to do everything myself. And when I’m ready to hear it, he says, “I’m here for you when you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

You’d think some of his wisdom would have passed on to me. Well, now it has; I was just slow for the rebound–trying a bit too hard to prove myself over the years raising kids and myself. It’s so easy to forget we’re not doing this alone.

From Playground to Pro: How Teamwork Started Early

Before my dad became a legend on the basketball court, he was just a kid trying to prove himself.

I remember Grandpa telling me that the older kids wouldn’t let my younger Dad play basketball with them.

Grandpa knew the kids could use a better ball, so he bought one, then went to the playground and said, “You can use Bill’s ball for your games, but the one condition is you have to let him play at least once. If he’s not good enough you can take him out.”

Grandpa didn’t just hand my dad a ball and expect the kids to let him play; that one day on the playground, Grandpa taught Dad and all those older kids what it means to be part of a team. The game was bigger than any one of them individually.

Yes, Grandpa threw the first pass, but Dad caught the ball and learned that teamwork wasn’t just a part of the game–it was the foundation.

The Shift from Playing the Game To Coaching the Team

As a player, Dad considered himself selfish. Aren’t we all when we’re young and single? We don’t have to worry about anyone but ourselves.

Life was so much easier for Dad (and for us all) when all we had to do was show up and play our best game.

But when you add a family to that equation, and everyone’s aging and not getting any younger, when was the last time you thought selfishly? A mother forgets what that word even means.

So Dad forgot what it meant to be selfish (and play offensively) when he went into coaching and learned to think defensively. Suddenly, he had to change his mindset from selfish to collective.

And we mamas do the same thing. We forget all about what our lives were like before kids, and we can think of nothing more than our lives with them.

First, we’re playing catch, standing right in front of our child handing them the ball. We take a step backward and toss the ball. We take another step backward, followed by another, soon throwing the ball. By the time they’re no longer kids, we’re so far apart that we’re lobbing the ball from one end of the court to the other. Our kids are tired of the game, but it’s the only game we ever want to play.

May we never forget the bigger picture. Like Dad, he knew that embracing teamwork makes it all possible. It’s not what you want (let them stay young forever); it’s what is good for the team (let them be upstanding citizens).

Beyond the Court—Building a Legacy Through Teamwork

Beyond parenting, we finally one day start to see things the way Dad did as the owner of the Miami Heat. He started a franchise, he created a team, and he knew when it was time to move on.

We start to see our own kids take control of their lives and they don’t need to play kid games with us anymore. They eventually move on.

But, even when Dad moved on from playing to coaching to owning and then into other business ventures, he never stopped being there for his teammates.

And we’ll always be there for our kids, ready to catch any ball they throw us. Heck, we’ll even take their dirty laundry.

I know now what it’s like to be the one saying Dad’s words because I hear myself saying them to my girls now, “I’m here for you when you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Now they want to do things themselves. They don’t need my help. Remember? I once used to be that way.

Because of Dad, I know what it’s like to be a team player. Dad called me in 2023 and said, “I just got off the phone with Wali. You know his Dad is 106. He’d love for you to meet and ask him questions.”

That’s how I met (and interviewed) Pop Jones before he passed away the following year at 107 years old. I became so close to Wali that I feel like he’s my teammate now, too.

That’s how connections are made—not by talking about teamwork, but by living it.

By passing the ball to me, Dad gave me a chance to play on the team. By meeting Pop Jones, I saw how legends are born and how the torch must live on in each and every one of us—not just for our children but for their children’s children.

Dad’s legacy isn’t just about his time on the court. It endured because he passed the ball in every part of his life. Dad knew from the time he was a little boy that giving someone the ball and a shot at proving their worth to be part of a team mattered more than winning or losing. (Okay, we’ll still gladly take those wins!)

Your Turn!

So here’s the thing: you don’t have to carry the ball alone. Just like Dad, we all need to pass the ball in our own lives.

Now it’s your turn—because legacies aren’t built alone.

Drop a comment below and share your passing-the-ball moment. I’d love to hear how you’ve carried the torch—or how someone handed it to you when you needed it most. Let’s celebrate the teamwork that keeps us all going!

For more endearing legacy moments:

In Light of “Kobe Bryant’s Muse”

Locker Room Moments In The Car Ride Home With Dad

Vintage Grit, Charm, Love and Luck: Piecing Together Hope and a Dream

Cunningham’s Court: The Kangaroo Kid’s Great Basketball Leaps

So You Never Forget You’ve Got A Friend