Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood stars and directs this low-key film which ranges from sarcastic to sappy and manages to be meaningful without becoming too melodramatic. Gran Torino is the epilogue of the life of Walt Kowalski, played by Eastwood (sort of like a retired Dirty Harry at times) who fought in Korea and worked for forty years at the nearby Ford plant. After his wife died, he begins to connect with the Hmong family living next door and helps them out when they have trouble with a local gang.

At times, the film is not plausible yet the audience enjoyed the film. Walt’s offensive jokes drew laughs, in an “I can’t believe he just said that” sort of way. The plot was perfunctory at times but Eastwood’s performance drew many viewers in. Whether it was lending tools or lending his car - a 1970s mint condition Gran Torino that becomes the focal point of the film - Walt grows as a person, moving from intolerant to accepting to helpful.

Times when Walt mentors his neighbour Tao so that he has the skills to work instead of joining a gang are the highlights of the film, not the clichéd confrontations. It is funny when Walt throws his son out of his house for suggesting a retirement home but the moment when Walt finally opens his mind after seventy years and sees things a in different light makes the film stand out.

Toronto Stories

Toronto Stories begins with a series of diverse people passing through customs and ends with a wide-angle shot of a homeless man crossing the street and entering the dense maze of downtown. The link between these two diverse scenes (the personalities of the travelers and the soulless nature of the city) is a mysterious boy of unknown origin who does not speak English. Alongside the tapestry of tales of people moving on and doing their best in their different lives, there is a thread that asks how the city would be perceived by a newcomer who knew nothing about Toronto or its citizens.

The myriad of stories is arranged chronologically: two adventurous pre-teens, two stories of young adults in their early and late 20s, and an older homeless man who has been on the ropes since his son died in a swimming accident. The characters showcase the many types of compassion in a large city like Toronto and personify alternate ways of coping with adversity, such as resistance, recovery, or a stubborn refusal to change. Early in the film, the two kids find a homeless person sleeping and think that he is a monster but as the audience gets to know Henry, who seems to be a recalcitrant drug-addict at first, we see that he is a complex person trying to cope with his own tragic.

The writing and performances are uneven, given that the four separate stories have different writers. I thought that the film could have used a fifth story explaining how the boy figured into the equation. At the end of the fourth story, he is able to communicate via an interpreter so it would have been interesting to see him try to settle in Toronto.

There were some loose ends in each story that were not tied up; more contact between the storylines could have created a sense of Six Degrees of Separation, or better displayed the drama occurring in each story. For example, in the first story, a man jumps from a bridge with no apparent explanation. Had the explanation appeared in another story, it would have created a neat relationship.

The film was enjoyable, but not excellent. For example, just off the top of my head: other superior films, such as A History of Violence or No Country for Old Men, feature average everyday characters going about their lives and trying to make a difference.

High and Low

Nothing blew up. Nobody fell off of a roof in Vienna. Numerous scenes unfolded without any dialogue. Yet Akira Kurosawa successfully crafted a film in 1963 that surpasses most modern action films.

The plot revolved around a kidnapping mystery, which was revealed gradually as the villain and his persistent police pursuers matched wits. Scenes with hardly any action were incredibly tense, as a result of the actors’ performances, the film’s pacing, and the simple score. There was a connection between the characters and the audience which made a two and half hour film fly by.

Kingo Gondo, played by Toshiro Mifune, was a wealthy industrialist who was attempting to take over the National Shoes company. His family lived in a luxurious house atop a hill; although they overlooked the city’s slums, there was no empathy for those who toiled below. Gondo prides himself as a tireless executive but it is only when everything is taken from him that he realizes what is really important in life.

Kurosawa’s steady head was critical throughout the film. The story needed to be filmed in black and white in order to juxtapose the decrepit slums with the house on the hill, the air-conditioned comfort of Gondo’s living room with the heat of the summer, and the unselfish act of the protagonist with the sheer evil of the kidnapper -- and the subtle, scheming evil of Gondo’s boardroom colleagues. Colour would have cheapened the contrast and unnecessary music would have clouded the rudimentary soundtrack.

A kidnapper snatches Gondo’s son, only to discover later that it is the chauffeur’s child. The ransom demand would ruin Gondo and he must choose his priorities: save a life and send his family down to the slums or take over the shoe company and acquire greater wealth. During the decision process, blocking highlights Gondo’s insecurities as other characters turn their back to him and remain still. Mifune shows a wide range of emotions and turns Gondo from a despicable corporate figure to a caring family man.

In business life, Gondo would open the doors of his mansion and gaze down at the bustling city. The chaos of a million bustling lives, totally removed from him, seemed to provide solace. After paying the ransom, Gondo begins to take pride in common tasks, such as mowing the lawn in the scorching heat. He loses his house and position but is happy to be president of a small shoe company trying to expand.

High and Low is named after the Japanese term for heaven and hell. The city is a metaphor for these two places: a cool, comfortable house filled with beautiful people above a searing hot, filthy garbage dump filled with drug addicts and criminals. Only an individual, who makes his own decisions, can successfully navigate between the two worlds. Gondo may have lost his visual perspective overlooking the city but he gained a new moral perspective.

Whether Gondo is right is of no consequence. The value of a human life remains highly subjective: the son of a middle-class chauffeur is saved but three drug addicts die and a criminal receives the death sentence. The newspapers are sympathetic to the plight of a wealthy man but shed no tears for the countless victims who live in “Dope Alley.” Gondo realizes that he can’t live life alone but he still chooses with whom he will socialize. The detective takes more satisfaction in outsmarting the kidnapper than preventing the loss of more life. Reality is not black and white but a grey area that evolves constantly.

Another Way to Die

A door left open: Bo Schembechler said “prepare, prepare, prepare.” John Wooden said that “failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” You can’t get upset on the court or in life when you are let down by something you should have foreseen and prepared for.

A woman walking by: In every life, short-term pleasure can’t overcome long-term pain. Treat the source, not the symptoms. Correct the player’s attitude so that they buy-in and become willing to correct their technique.

A man on your side: Another inch of your life sacrificed for your brother. If it impedes productivity, deal with it immediately; otherwise avoid getting caught up in the paperwork. Coaches should remember that they need to get paid too. The team can only go so far. In the hospital, there is plenty of paperwork so you won’t miss it.

A look in the eye: Essentially, John Wooden’s “Pyramid of Success” is nothing but a set of very high standards. If you compromise your own standards, looking at yourself in the mirror every morning becomes the most unbearable part of each day.

A phone on the table: Finding passion on your own is immensely difficult. Not everyone is interested in pushing the boundaries of quality. Finding coaches and players who share the same philosophy is critical.

Someone that you think that you can trust: Undeserved self-satisfaction is the timeless rival of self-actualization. If you are doing something interesting, challenging yourself, why bother? There are so many tiers in sport. Anyone can win a game at some level but not everyone can reach their potential.

Another way to die: Toiling through routine, repeating the same mistakes, wondering why we’re here; we’ve all been in one situation or another. When a person ceases to better themselves, they stagnate and die. Even little steps, made each class, prep period, practice, and game in the hopes of making a substantive change over an entire term or season can forestall a slow and ignominious death.

Fun

First concert in a while Tuesday night. Saw The Hold Steady at the Phoenx. Last time that I was at that club, Beck was playing and people were worried about Y2K. Last time that I was at a show, Oasis were touring Don’t Believe the Truth at the Molson Amphitheatre.

It was more or less enjoyable, a reminder to do so more often. It was similar to seeing Birds of Wales at the Mod Club, another band suggested by a friend. The Hold Steady turned out to be a band that I like (of course, any rock band that plays chords like that loudly is fun to listen to), although the countless spoken word lyrics became a tad excessive.

I should go out more. I can’t let my entertainment be limited to “Oh. My. God. House just kissed Cuddy.” Hopefully, Quantum of Solace doesn’t disappoint tomorrow either.

Deux films

Deux cinémas

Two films that I watched over the weekend had similar themes. La Nouvelle vie de Monsieur Horten, Norwegian with French subtitles (a past Cannes selection and a future TIFF selection), and Nos 18 ans were good films, developed smoothly (and promptly), and talked about how to set priorities and enjoy life.

La Nouvelle vie de M. Horten, was an intelligent version of The Bucket List. It is a quiet film with moments of absurd humour. Odd Horten is a train conducteur who is forced to retire and doesn’t know what to do with himself. Single and living near the train tracks, Horten had lived a life focused on his job. He has several regrets, such as his fear of ski jumping and a sporadic relationship with an innkeeper on his train route.

Still wearing his railway uniform as he begins his retirement, Horten encounters characters in various stages of their lives. One of the characters, later revealed to be a schizophrenic, tells him that “it’s never too late in life” to do anything.

The film benefited from several subtle performances and an airy soundtrack that suited the film perfectly. On the other hand, the director Bent Hamer used such obvious symbolism it was as if he was breaking rocks with a sledge hammer. It’s very good but moments like when Horten observes the neighbourhood bakery making a wedding cake were like a Dummies Guide to the film.

Nos 18 ans tells the tale of a group of friends who have graduated from high school and must write their Baccalaureate examination. One character Lucas, took the trouble to tell-off his least favourite teacher (Prof. Martineau) before he left school, only to find out that that the teacher would be his examiner for the “bac” and happened to be the father of the girl that he was in love with.

Throughout the film, the friends balance celebrating their graduation with studying for the “bac” and realize how the test is not the alpha and the omega in life. As he tutors Lucas, Prof. Martineau realizes that he has missed some opportunities in life and decides to change his philosophy somewhat. Lucas and his peers all head of in different directions and must realize that they are now adults and fully responsible for their actions.

The film was humourous but also dealt with serious issues. It focused on how young people chose their path in life and how they live with it afterwards. Some of the performances were less than average; it seemed that aside from Prof. Martineau and his ex-wife, there were only two types of characters in the film, depending on the sex of the performer. The ending seemed thrown together as a more detailed conclusion would have wrapped up the film better.

Both films emphasize that work and school aren’t always paramount; it’s paramount to remember Orbital’s philosophy regarding regret. Ski jumping, that extra mille-feuille, the visiting Place de Grand Marché on a whim, an extra folly. Putting friends first and developing a support group. Carpe Diem (encore).

The Game

Put in uniform at six or seven, by the time a boy reaches the NHL, he is a veteran of close to 1,000 games-30-minute games, later 32-, then 45, finally 60-minute games, played more than : twice a week, more than seventy times a year between late September and late March. It is more games from a younger age, over a longer season than ever before. But it is less hockey than ever before. For, every time a twelve-year-old boy plays a 30-minute game, sharing the ice with teammates, he plays only about ten minutes. And ten minutes a game, anticipated and prepared for all day, traveled to and from, dressed and undressed for, means ten minutes of hockey a day, more than two days a week, more than seventy days a hockey season. And every day that a twelve-year-old plays only ten minutes, he doesn’t play two hours on a backyard rink, or longer on school or playground rinks during weekends and holidays.

It all has to do with the way we look at free time. Constantly preoccupied with time and keeping ourselves busy (we have come to answer the ritual question “How are you?” with what we apparently equate with good health, “Busy”), we treat non-school, non-sleeping or non-eating time, unbudgeted free time, with suspicion and no little fear. For, while it may offer opportunity to learn and do new things, we worry that the time we once spent reading, kicking a ball, or mindlessly coddling a puck might be used destructively, in front of TV, or “getting into trouble” in endless ways. So we organize free time, scheduling it into lessons - ballet, piano, French - into organizations, teams, and clubs, fragmenting it into impossible-to-be-boring segments, creating in ourselves a mental metabolism geared to moving on, making free time distinctly unfree.

It is in free time that the special player develops, not in the competitive expedience of games, in hour-long practices once a week, in mechanical devotion to packaged, processed, coaching manual, hockey-school skills. For while skills are necessary, setting out as they do the limits of anything, more is needed to transform those skills into something special. Mostly it is time unencumbered, unhurried, time of a different quality, more time, time to find wrong answers to find a few that are right; time to find your own right answers; time for skills to be practiced to set higher limits, to settle and assimilate and become fully and completely yours, to organize and combine with other skills comfortably and easily in some uniquely personal way, then to be set loose, trusted, to find new instinctive directions to take, to create.

But without such time a player is like a student cramming for exams. His skills are like answers memorized by his body, specific, limited to what is expected, random and separate, with no overviews to organize and bring them together. And for those times when more is demanded, when new unexpected circumstances come up, when answers are asked for things you’ve never learned, when you must intuit and piece together what you already know to find new answers, memorizing isn’t enough. It’s the difference between knowledge and understanding, between a super-achiever and a wise old man. And it’s the difference between a modern suburban player and a player like Lafleur.

For a special player has spent time with his game. On backyard rinks, in local arenas, in time alone and with others, time without short-cuts, he has seen many things, he has done many things, he has experienced the game. He understands it. There is scope and culture in his game. He is not a born player. What he has is not a gift, random and otherworldly, and unearned. There is surely something in his genetic make-up that allows him to be great, but just as surely there are others like him who fall short. He is, instead, a natural.

“Muscle memory” is a phrase physiologists sometimes use. It means that for many movements we make, our muscles move with no message from the brain telling them to move, that stored in the muscles is a learned capacity to move a certain way, and, given stimulus from the spinal cord, they move that way. We see a note on a sheet of music, our fingers move; no thought, no direction, and because one step of the transaction is eliminated - the information-message loop through the brain - we move faster as well.

When first learning a game, a player thinks through every step of what he’s doing, needing to direct his body the way he wants it to go. With practice, with repetition, movements get memorized, speeding up, growing surer, gradually becoming part of the muscle’s memory. The great player, having seen and done more things, more different and personal things, has in his muscles the memory of more notes, more combinations and patterns of notes, played in more different ways. Faced with a situation, his body responds. Faced with something more, something new, it finds an answer he didn’t know was there. He invents the game.

- Ken Dryden, The Game

North American athletes play far too often, which is the reason why other countries have closed the gap in international competition, whether on the ice or the hardwood. European basketball clubs practice twice daily, improving individual moves and shooting skills. Hockey clubs emphasize quickness and passing in extensive development programmes. Plus fitness.

United States and Canadian sports organizations devote excessive time to playing and traveling. As Dryden alluded, muscle memory falls by the wayside when seated in a car or on the bench. Why should a high school player go from league game to club tournament - barely playing - when he could practice on his own and receive one-on-one attention? Skilled coaches do their best work in small groups.

La joie de vivre, ou la joie de jouer, est trés importante. Ken Dryden mentioned this in 1980 and it has proven itself to be true repeatedly: in the 1988, 1998, 2004, and 2006 Olympics for starters, as Europeans and South Americans have entered the Association, as skilled post play is replaced by mere size and athleticism.

Fundamentals remain paramount. An athlete cannot succeed without outstanding performance factors and exceptional skills. A student-athlete cannot land a scholarship without grades. A country may have won in the past but they must continually improve the entire sport system to win in the future. After all, John Wooden was correct when he said that “it’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.”

Perspective

Pressure basketball has succeeded at almost every level (we all remember Rick Pitino’s failed transition to the Association in 1997) for a number of good reasons. Dialing up the intensity increases the sport’s difficulty and certain teams play much better at faster tempos, for starters.

Naturally, teams troubled by pressure can always practice. Talent is the single biggest factor for winning games (the reason Pitino’s Celtics floundered was because they did not win the 1997 lotttery) and passing, dribbling, cutting, and other skills can always be improved. Scoring also reverses the pressure by curtailing the opponent’s fast break; scoring is highly dependant on talent and mental training.

But the biggest improvements must concern mental training. First of all, teams must possess the capabilities to “slow it down”: see openings before they occur, understand what is happening, deconstruct the play into a collection of manageable actions, and take initiative to attack the opponent rather than watching the full-court pressure from afar. Intelligence is the great equalizer in all fields.

Fear of failure raises individual tension levels. The worst outcome from a single bad pass is a turnover and two (rarely three in transition) points. The worst outcome from a single loss is disappointment until the next opportunity to prove yourself. Basketball is not the be all and end but merely the beginning of it all.

People still take the sport too seriously. I actually agree with Bobby Petrino’s decision. His position with the Atlanta Falcons was horrible: the team’s best player was jailed for two years, players would argue with him on the sidelines, and the other thing worse than their current season was what the future held. For his own sake and making the most of himself, he made the right choice to move to Arkansas. Certainly, loyalty and commitment were compromised but nobody should put excessive stress on themselves until they become Randy Walker or Skip Prosser. Perhaps I am wearing rose-tinted glasses.

If a team plays for self-actualization, the final score is irrelevant. Players can still set new personal bests despite losing -- although this becomes frustrating if repeated over time. A basketball game is just two hours in length; control what you can and execute as well as possible. Players are in total control of their own excellence. The past is the past; don’t let mistakes compound into disaster.

Players’ health is also paramount, whether on the Association hardwood or the world’s pick-up courts, and it is never justified to give anyone the Mardy Collins at any level. Coaches are under excessive pressure and this adversely affects players, from seizing up at critical situation or creating a situation where flagrant fouls (among other inappropriate actions) are acceptable.

As Tim Duncan said about Isiah Thomas:

“It’s a bad situation when a coach puts himself in that position and goes after a player. It’s very uncalled for. I don’t know what his intentions were with that and we have bigger plans than trying to hurt somebody. I would hope that people would understand and respect that and obviously they don't.”
- Tim Duncan

The San Antonio Spurs play at a different level than the New York Knicks. The goal is to get to that level. As Irv Blitzer taught the world in Cool Runnings: “A gold medal is a wonderful thing. But if you’re not enough without one, you’ll never be enough with one.”

So relax, keep it real, and handle all basketball situations with peace of minds that comes from the self-satisfaction of knowing you did your best to be the best you are capable of becoming. Personal and team success comprise the big picture.

West Viriginia Will Regret that Game for the Rest of their Lives

West Virginia's football team lost a gift-wrapped part in the B.C.S. National Championship Game thanks to a loss to Pittsburgh. The No. 2 ranked team was so heavily favoured that the combined score of both teams didn’t equal the spread. The Fiesta Bowl is a big deal but is nothing compared to a championship. What could Mountaineers have done to win the game? Could an extra practiced have been held, an additional weight training session scheduled, or more coaches’ meetings extended?

Andre Agassi lost the 1989 French Open final to Andrés Gómez and was haunted by the loss until his 1992 Wimbledon title - or perhaps until he truly self-actualized himself in 1994. Nevertheless, the prodigy’s loss to the Ecuadorian veteran remains a blemish that shouldn’t have happened and can’t be undone.

Should an athlete sacrifice his youth to train? Should a coach stay in his office until part four in the morning the night before games? Should participants pour everything they have into sport? Often not. Fundamentally, the result comes down to talent (physical, mental, psychological) and if that can’t be realistically improved, don’t bother, watch a Jean-Luc Godard film, and live a well-rounded life.

When moving higher up the laurel-covered spire, athletes and coaches yearn to be champions. Winning is the ideal but the test remains something to be reveled in. But if a team like West Virginia or an athlete like Agassi didn’t devote themselves as much to practice and work as entirely as they could have than the flame within their soul can destroy them, irrespective of the glamours achieved. Never ignore self-actualization while trying to win because the former is transferable to success in life but the latter is nothing more than a means to an end.

Meditations & More Than Meets the Eye

Morpheus proves a pseudo-philosopher in the Matrix Trilogy, much like Marcus Aurelius in his collection of musings, Meditations, and Optimus Prime in the summer blockbuster flick, Transformers. The latter two offer interesting ideas but fall short of anything truly significant, like Tony Soprano quoting Sun-Tzu or mentioning Machiavelli to Dr. Melfi.

Marcus Aurelius repeats themes regarding man’s control over his own destiny and how the world and universe will carry on irrespective of one’s actions. One memorable point: “even if you burst with indignation they will still carry on regardless.” Another: the potential of the directing mind to speak loudly with actions, exhibiting values with deeds. Unfortunately, the reflections become somewhat repetitive as the Roman Emperor rambles.

Optimus Prime and the Autobots demonstrate how actions can speak louder than words, defending Earth from the insidious Decepticons. Prime’s retort to Megatron that humans “have the right to choose for themselves” is a perfect example of Choice Theory among people and robots.

Otherwise, the film offers a reasonable screenplay containing humourous moments and skilled actors in compelling roles. At other times, lazy convoluted writing, such as recurring representations of government stereotypes and too many plots, causes the film to drag as it approaches two and a half hours.

Polonius remarked that “brevity is the soul of wit,” an opinion somewhat lost in these two works, which could have been better had their creators decided to stroke their egos less. I’d rather read Meditations but in my ideal quality world, I’d prefer to watch Transformers written and directed by Marcus Aurelius. If such a film existed, I’m certain the witty banter among the characters would be unsurpassed.

On the Subject of Basketball, Generally

I Am a Role Player: I understand that I have eight to twelve minutes to commit four fouls (five if there’s a particularly urgent play and I need to disqualify myself). I know that I commit lots of fouls and don’t need to be repeatedly told: “Brock, watch your hands,” because my preference is that all hacks are called, whether it’s my once-per-game stupid reach-in or somebody punching me when I attempt a putback. Everyone deserves free throws when there is contact and an advantage, not just Tim Duncan.

I Never Had It Made

Jackie Robinson - who debuted for the Brooklyn Dodgers fifty years ago - recounts his career in sport and business in his book, which he titled I Never Had It Made.

Although known primarily among the general public for his baseball career, Robinson devotes scarcely more than a third of the book to the topic, covering his experiences in politics, business, and raising a family. Two basic lessons that the reader can take away are how adversity affects all sorts of people and it’s important to preserve nonetheless and that it is never to late to change one’s course in life, if one is willing to work and learn.

Robinson’s exploits on the diamond show athletes from all sports the value of smart, aggressive play and a determined, competitive nature. Obviously, his role breaking baseball’s colour barrier and the dignified way that he handled himself is a well-known positive example.

Throughout the autobiography, Robinson isn’t afraid to admit occasions when he did not succeed and would have acted differently if he could choose again. Nobody’s perfect and the ability to self-evaluate and reflect, irrespective of success or failure, is an important skill in life and sport.

La Dolce Vita

I’ve been told that you need to watch the adjacent Fellini films - The Nights of Cabiria and 8½ - to truly appreciate it, but I didn’t have a problem with the loose narrative of La Dolce Vita. In fact, the plot, seemingly unconnected at times, is essential to the themes that Fellini wishes to address.

“Rome: a tranquil jungle where you can hide.”
- Marcello Rubini

Uttered by at the opening of the film by Marcello, a tabloid journalist, these words endeavour to explain the motivation of the protagonist Marcello and the director Frederico Fellini throughout La Dolce Vita.

Marcello wanders from one distinct event to another, seeking a purpose for himself in life. In the end, he discovers that despite his attempts to find love, religion, or family, he is still alone, unable to connect with anyone in a meaningful manner. Trite sexual encounters, flamboyant parties, and a pretentious circle of friends and acquaintances seem to illustrate success on the surface but he is empty inside.

Disparate adventures explore the definition of beauty and the meaning of life. Marcello maintains his casual attitude when meeting his father despite knowing that he is falling short in life.

“I should change my environment; I should change a lot of things.”
- Marcello Rubini

Juxtapositions abound throughout the film, as in life. Chaos follows peace and quiet, love succeeds hate and vice-versa. The real world that Marcello struggles to navigate is replete with voyeurism and scandal; what caused controversy during the 1960 release is now commonplace.

Encounters are marred by miscommunication or a total lack of communication. The characters may interact often but they rarely understand each other.

Religion is often rejected in favour of the material world. Marcello and his friend are following the delivery of a sculpture to the Vatican yet stop in order to try to pick up some women sun-bathing on a rooftop. Leaving a party at dawn, the group encounters a procession heading to mass.

What can be learnt from a prescient black and white film? It’s difficult to find oneself and what passes for self-actualization for one person may be entirely unfulfilling for another.

La Dolce Vita was certainly worth the rental price and late fees. Considering I paid twenty-five dollars to watch an appalling display of basketball by the Toronto Raptors and the New York Knicks, Bay Street Video provides exceptional value.

That Championship Season

Myriad films have employed basketball as a plot device (Hoosiers), a Sisyphean obstacle for the protagonist (Hoop Dreams), and an outlet for a character’s creativity (Finding Forrester); That Championship Season utilizes the sport as a symbol of what has been lost.

Four high school teammates reunite with their coach twenty-four years after their state championship triumph. During the intervening years, they have married, pursued their careers, and gone their separate ways.

“We lost something boys.”
- Coach Delaney

Subtle changes were made to the Pulitzer Prize winning play of the same title. For example, the play emphasizes how compromising their personal values in the pursuit of winning is largely responsible for the characters’ dysfunction but this is only introduced late in the film. On the stage, greater blame is laid on the actions of Coach Delaney but he appears to be the glue that keeps everything together on screen.

The key theme is unchanged: glory fades but the people remain. The former teammates can recreate the last-second play that won the final game but interactions off the court later than evening illustrate how they are no longer a team. The Fillmore H.S. team was successful because it accomplished goals that they players could not have reached independently.

As adults, lacking the focus provided by participating in something significant, the players have hurt themselves and each other. The players’ names may be engraved on a silver trophy but a high school title that they won when they were teenagers cannot carry them through life.

That Championship Season illustrates the affect a coach can have on a player. The final member of the starting five hasn’t been seen in a quarter century because of resentment over the methods used to achieve victory. While extreme representations were necessary to keep the play and film dramatic, coaches should still be mindful of their influence, even on a smaller scale.

“Never accept anything less than success. It’s a philosophy.”
- Coach Delaney

Tex Winter said that one is only a success at the moment they are performing a successful act. Afterwards, it’s time to more on to the next target. Only after Coach Delaney brings the players together again and inspires them to work on George’s mayoral campaign are they able to put aside their differences, move forward with their lives, and become a team again.