A Quiet Example

Posted on Mar 30, 2015 in Stan Martin | 0

Growing up I hated North Carolina…. The school, not the state. Not only did they seem to always beat my team (and everyone else), but I hated the way they did it. Coach Dean Smith’s “Four Corners” offense was perfectly legal, but it turned their basketball games into unmitigated bores. I heard recently that even Smith hated it, but it gave him the best chance to win.

But while I hated Carolina, I always admired Dean Smith. I think his only equal as a coach was the legendary John Wooden. But Smith started his work in the segregated south, and his strong faith led him to be a quiet pioneer in changing the landscape in that regard. And even more impressive than WHAT he did along those lines was the way he went about it.

Back in 1981 Smith agreed to an interview with John Feinstein. As background for the interview Feinstein interviewed Smith’s longtime minister from Binkley Baptist Church, Robert Seymour. Seymour told how one day back when Dean was an assistant coach he did something that helped end segregation in Chapel Hill. He and Seymour made plans to take a black member of their congregation to lunch in a segregated restaurant where Dean knew the management. Mind you, this was long before Smith was the legend he is now—he was just an assistant coach then. That was the first step toward the end of segregation in Chapel Hill.

But as amazing as that story was, what really captivated my attention was what happened as Feinstein related that story to Smith during their interview:

When I circled back to Smith and asked him to tell me more about that night, he shot me an angry look. “Who told you about that?” he asked.

“Reverend Seymour,” I said.

“I wish he hadn’t done that.”

“Why? You should be proud of doing something like that.”

He leaned forward in his chair and in a very quiet voice said something I’ve never forgotten: “You should never be proud of doing what’s right. You should just do what’s right.”

To Dean Smith, doing the right thing was just a given—like breathing. It’s not something you should seek recognition for; it’s what you’re supposed to do. And why should you get recognition for what you’re supposed to do?

Coach Smith passed away a few weeks ago, and he will be greatly missed. And now when I think of him my first thought won’t be of the hated “four corners.” It will be Isaiah’s challenge to “Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause” (Is. 1:17), and the reminder of Jesus from Matthew 6:1: “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.” And I think that’s what Coach Smith would have preferred.