The Floor Still Had to Be Swept
I thought helping a player justified being late to sweep the basketball court. Then I walked into the arena and found Hall of Fame coach Lewis Orr doing my job. What followed was a lesson I never forgot: trust with big responsibilities begins with handling the little ones.
I Am Navarro College
I haven’t received a paycheck from Navarro College since 1993—and when I did, it wasn’t much. I was simply thrilled to have a dorm room, a meal card and a Hall of Fame coach to work for while I chased my dream of college basketball.
More than three decades later, I returned to Corsicana for the Navarro College Hall of Fame and realized how profoundly that experience shaped my life. Former players became coaches. Assistant coaches became Division I head coaches. Relationships crossed generations. And an institution I left decades ago still feels like part of who I am.
That is the difference between a transactional organization and a transformational one.
The transaction ended decades ago. The transformation never did.
I am Navarro College.
Stranded in Serial Killer Disney World
Stranded beside Interstate 35 in a suit and dress shoes, I faced three men closing in—armed with only a blue ballpoint pen and an outrageous DEA bluff. That long Oklahoma night became an unforgettable lesson in basketball, accountability and keeping the mission moving.
The Sugar Shaker Defense
As a young assistant coach, Terry Waldrop thought he had outsmarted Hall of Fame coach Lewis Orr. One oversized sugar shaker—and Coach Orr’s silence—delivered a lesson about ego, accountability and leadership that lasted a lifetime.