I’m a huge sports fan. The drama that unfolds “between the lines” is the ultimate reality TV—it’s passionate, it’s unscripted, it’s unpredictable. For sports fans, there isn’t a better three-month stretch in the year than mid-March through mid-June. We’ve just finished with the NCAA basketball tournament, Major League Baseball’s opening day, the Masters, and the NFL Draft. We’re in the middle of the NBA and NHL playoffs. It’s a wonderful time to be a sports fan, especially if you’re rooting for the underdog, an unlikely hero, or a competitor battling adversity.
Everyone loves an underdog. Whether it’s George Mason’s 2006 NCAA tournament run, Sarah Hughes skating the routine of her life, or Broadway Joe fulfilling his Super Bowl guarantee, we can identify. Most of us are underdogs in some capacity. We endure struggles and difficult circumstances, and, like the underdog, we often feel we are not skilled enough to be of importance. We relate to the “little guy” and personalize their achievements. We believe their victories mean there is hope for us.
Everyone loves the unlikely hero. A defining example is Jason McElwain, who was diagnosed with autism at age 2. McElwain got the only playing time of his high school basketball career in the closing minutes of the last game of his team’s season. He entered the game and launched a barrage of three-pointers, tallying 20 points in just over four minutes of game time. The unlikely hero differs from the underdog in that they shouldn’t be in the game in the first place. Much like the child who offered up his fish and loaves, the unlikely hero is simply a faithful, available player whose seemingly insignificant offerings result in a stunning accomplishment.
Everyone loves the deeper storyline. I still remember speed skater Dan Jansen finally winning Olympic gold while struggling with his past failures and the loss of his sister. I still remember Kerri Strug shrugging off torn ligaments in her ankle to land a difficult vault jump and propel the USA women’s gymnastics team to gold. There’s also Brett Favre, who threw for 400 yards in a memorable Monday Night Football game shortly after his father’s death. It was more than just a game for those athletes. Their opponents weren’t the other teams or competitors—they were going against something much deeper and much bigger. In those moments we identify with the athlete as we, too, are haunted by failures, injuries and scars from our past, or the loss of loved ones. We watch them overcome their burdens in hopes that we might be encouraged to overcome our own.
This is how I watch sports. I look beyond the statistics and hype, hoping to find a storyline that moves me. When I consider the greatest sports stories ever told, inspiration and redemption outrank cinematography and musical score. Forgive me for omitting Raging Bull, Bull Durham, and other legendary sports films, but I rate the following four sports movies on a different scale: A scale that reminds me anything is possible, that redemption is coming, and that struggles lead to perseverance and hope.
Given the themes involved, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that sports movies are so popular. As church leaders, we can use these films to make important spiritual connections for our people. If you’re preparing to deliver a message of hope, consider these resonant classics.
Rocky
Rocky Balboa is the ultimate underdog. He was undersized, struggling to make ends meet, and seemingly out of luck until he got a chance to fight Apollo Creed for the world heavyweight title.
The memorable training scenes and Rocky’s romance with Adrian combine for some good goose bump moments for the audience; however, the defining moment for me in this film is that Rocky doesn’t win in the end. I love that the movie preaches that life is more about the journey than one momentous outcome.
Conversely, a huge issue I have with Facing the Giants is that everything works out in the end, and I mean every little plotline. Real life just isn’t like that. Sylvester Stallone understood that with his script, yet Rocky still offers plenty of hope.
The Natural
Admit it, guys: at some point in your life, you wanted to be Roy Hobbs. He knocked the cover off the ball, broke the stadium clock in Chicago, and smashed the stadium lights with a mammoth game-winning home run to win the pennant. Sure, the movie has some creepy moments, but the storyline moves me.
A literal and emotional scar from Hobbs’ past haunts him right up to his game-winning homer. Hobbs’ dreams are shattered upon realizing he won’t be able to break every record in the book. The consequences of his sins keep our hero from his true love and his son. Best of all, the owner of the team tries to get the team to intentionally lose every game—classic good vs. evil.
As we watch Roy, whose life changes from “Wonder Boy” to unusable journeyman overnight, we relate. We root for this unlikely hero, whose time seems to have passed, because we also hope our time hasn’t passed.
Hoosiers
This film represents a perfect balance of my three criteria—the underdog team is comprised of a few unlikely heroes and led by a coach (Norman Dale) trying to restore his tarnished legacy.
Each character is flawed and none achieve perfection in the movie (unless you count Jimmy Chitwood’s lethal jump shot). However, as a team they pull together, maximize one another’s strengths, and do the unthinkable—win the high school basketball championship in the talent-rich state of Indiana.
For me, this movie captures the idea of community. Just like at Hickory High, we need people around us that push us to succeed and support us when we fail. There’s little chance for us in isolation, but when surrounded by a team, even the unthinkable is possible.
Field of Dreams
Is there another sports movie that gives you the chills more often? Is there another movie in which so many key characters search for redemption?
First, there is Ray Kinsella, who lives in the aftermath of a falling out between him and his deceased father. Then, there’s writer-turned-hermit Terence Mann, who is trying to figure out his place in the world. There’s the lovable Dr. “Moonlight” Graham, who misses out on his dream of getting one at-bat in the big leauges. Finally, there’s “Shoeless” Joe Jackson and the rest of the 1919 Chicago “Black” Sox; a team that died without being restored from their sin. The characters in this film have demons to battle, but in the end everything is made right.
Sports movies have a way of reminding us that God is in the business of using underdogs and unlikely heroes. Heaven will probably be filled with a bunch of Roy Hobbs, Rockys, Norman Dales, and Ray Kinsellas—all people who had their share of scars in this life but found redemption awaiting them. How many of them sit in your congregation every Sunday? More important, how are you going to communicate the hope of the gospel to them? Perhaps a sports movie is just the metaphor you’ve been looking for.
Jeff Parker is the Contributing Editor of COLLIDE.