Someone will notice

The crowd roared when the Harlem Globetrotters took the court. Each time they scored, the crowd roared again.

You hardly noticed another team was even on the floor. During warm-ups, all eyes were focused on the famous team, even though the other guys, the New York Nationals, were sinking just as many shots at their end of the court as the Globetrotters were.

No one noticed.

People came to watch the Globetrotters — watch and cheer and clap and holler.

They came to cheer on the good guys.

But the Globetrotters can’t be the Globetrotters without another team to play against. They need an archrival, a mean villain, a no-name nobody to poke and tease and taunt in order to be as entertaining as they are.

They need someone to beat.

It takes a gracious man who can take the floor night after night after night, knowing he’s as good as the other guy but never getting the applause the other guy gets.

It takes a confident man who can make 20 points a game without anyone knowing his name, without ever signing an autograph and without ever wearing that red, white, and blue jersey.

It takes a great man who can let others be great without fussing. I admire people who, on the court or in the world, do their thing without thought of praise or fame or glory. Few of us are that gracious or confident.

Few of us are that great.

It was a good lesson for my children — not just that you don’t have to be recognized to be great, but that if you try your best, someone will notice, even if it’s just a family from Illinois.

Just so you know: The first Globetrotter game was played January 7, 1927 in Hinckly, Illinois. The team made $75 that night.