My grandfather - to me he’s Opa - was a high level football, basketball and volleyball player in his day. He played wide-receiver for the Detroit Lions and forward for the Army. He later went on to run marathons and ultra-marathons. He also practiced an eccentric and pure style of hunting - running down deer by following their tracks. He was interviewed about this by The New York Times. Here is an excerpt from his interview:

Throughout my college career the equation was simple - if I shot well, I played, and if I didn’t shoot well, I sat on the bench. I envied teammates who could make up for shooting slumps by ramping up their defense, rebounding or play-making skills and thereby stay on the court. It was as if my friends had diversified portfolios. If one of their stocks fell, their whole game wouldn’t collapse, while my portfolio depended on shooting alone.

In my senior season we lost a game because of missed free throws. I shot 1-3 from the line, and when I missed the front end of a 1 and 1 with a few minutes remaining I was furious with myself.

In response to our poor shooting, Coach told us to shoot 100 free throws each day for the next 10 days, and to report our scores to the coaches when we finished.

In The Inner Game of Tennis, Gallwey argues that the aim of sports should also be to transcend the ego, rather than gratify it, and that the best performances and the most enjoyable experiences come when ego is reduced. To conceptualize what it means to play free of ego, Gallwey distinguishes between “Self 1” and “Self 2”.

When I found my seat behind home plate I appreciated the beauty of the stadium, even though it was littered with advertising. The Green Monster, a sacred symbol in baseball culture, was plastered with ads, and there were massive billboards advertising everything from CocaCola to Bank of America.