The Second Tread from “Call Me A.C Green..(Poem):
“Purpose Over Pleasure: How I Stay Focused on Life’s Court Like A.C. Green”

“Call me A.C. Green—I’m focused on the court of life, avoiding distractions and pleasures that give birth to strife.” That’s my mantra, my way of navigating a world that constantly pulls me in a hundred directions. Like A.C. Green, the NBA champion known for his ironclad discipline both on and off the basketball court, I see life as a game that demands focus and grit. Pleasure isn’t my enemy—it’s the chaos it can unleash that I’m wary of. This approach draws from the wisdom of Stoicism, but it’s sharpened by scripture: “Run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Corinthians 9:24). For me, the “court of life” is a race of faith, where distractions fade into the background, and purpose takes center stage.

A Game of Discipline

A.C. Green didn’t just win titles with the Lakers—he stayed true to himself, famously maintaining his virginity throughout his career despite the temptations of fame. That kind of discipline inspires me. Life’s court isn’t a literal hardwood floor; it’s the daily grind where every choice is a play, and every distraction is a defender trying to throw me off my game. I’m not here to chase every fleeting pleasure that comes my way—I’m here to keep my eyes on the ball, to prioritize purpose over the quick thrills that often lead to strife. Green showed me that discipline isn’t about denying yourself; it’s about choosing what matters most.

Pleasure, in itself, isn’t bad. A good meal, a laugh with friends, a moment of rest—these are gifts. But when pleasure turns into an obsession or a shortcut, it breeds chaos. A night of indulgence can spiral into regret, a mindless scroll through social media can steal hours from my goals. That’s the strife I’m avoiding—not the pleasure itself, but the mess it leaves behind when it’s unchecked. Discipline is my playbook, and like A.C. Green, I’m sticking to it.

Stoicism Meets Faith

This mindset aligns with Stoicism, the ancient philosophy that teaches us to focus on what we can control and let go of what we can’t. The Stoics, like Epictetus, would say that pleasures are external—they come and go, and chasing them can pull us off course. Instead, they’d urge me to anchor myself in purpose, to master my reactions to the world’s temptations. I find that wisdom compelling. When distractions pop up—a flashy ad, a tempting offer, a nudge to slack off—I remind myself that my power lies in choosing to stay focused, not in bending to every whim.

But Stoicism only gets me part of the way. Scripture takes it further, giving my discipline a deeper root. In 1 Corinthians 9:24, Paul writes, “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” That’s not just philosophy—it’s a call to action, a challenge to live with intention. For me, this race isn’t about outrunning others; it’s about running my own course with faith as my fuel. The prize isn’t a trophy or applause—it’s the peace of knowing I’m aligned with a purpose bigger than myself.

The Court of Life

I call it the “court of life” because it feels like a game sometimes—fast-paced, unpredictable, full of opponents trying to steal my focus. Distractions are everywhere: the lure of instant gratification, the pressure to fit in, the endless noise of a world that says pleasure is the point. But I’m not playing for the crowd. Like A.C. Green sinking free throws under pressure, I’m locking in on what keeps me steady. Purpose is my shot clock—it keeps me moving forward, not lingering on sidelines of fleeting highs.

Faith shapes this court. It’s not just about avoiding distractions; it’s about running toward something. 1 Corinthians 9:24 isn’t a passive suggestion—it’s an active command to run with everything I’ve got. That means saying no to pleasures that derail me, not out of fear, but out of focus. When I’m tempted to veer off, I think of Green—steady, unshaken, playing his game no matter the noise around him. Faith tells me the race is worth it, that the prize isn’t temporary but eternal.

Letting Distractions Fall Away

Distractions don’t just test my discipline—they reveal my priorities. Every time I sidestep a meaningless pleasure, I’m choosing purpose over chaos. It’s not always easy. Some days, the pull of instant gratification feels like a full-court press—relentless, in my face. But I’ve learned that giving in often leaves me with strife: wasted time, muddled goals, a nagging sense I’ve drifted from my path. So I let those distractions fall away, like defenders I’ve shaken off with a crossover move.

This isn’t about perfection. I stumble—I’m human. But discipline keeps me getting back up, refocusing on the prize. Stoicism reminds me I can’t control the distractions, only my response to them. Scripture reminds me why I’m running in the first place. Together, they keep me on the court, playing my game, not someone else’s.

Purpose Takes the Lead

In the end, it’s purpose that drives me, not the absence of pleasure. A.C. Green didn’t just avoid temptation—he pursued excellence, on and off the court. I’m doing the same. Life’s court is full of noise, but I’m not here to chase every bounce of the ball. I’m here to run my race, to live with focus and faith. Pleasure might call my name, but purpose has my heart. And like Green, I’ll keep playing—steady, disciplined, and all in for the prize.