Loose Hands

There’s a physical difference between an athlete who is playing free and one who is playing tight. You can see it in the body. The tight athlete has tension in places where there shouldn’t be any. Their movements are a little slower, a little more mechanical. They’re controlling rather than reacting.

Coaches sometimes say: loose hands. Play with loose hands. And they mean it physically. But they also mean something more.

Read this passage slowly.

Let that sit for a second before you move.

I have learned. That’s important. Paul didn’t start with contentment. He learned it. Through experience, through the discipline of choosing it repeatedly, through finding out that his identity wasn’t actually contingent on the circumstances. And because it was learned, it’s available to be learned.

Loose hands in competition means holding the outcome loosely. Not not caring about it. Caring deeply but not gripping. Knowing that the result matters without needing it to matter so much that you can’t perform freely when it’s in question.

The paradox of loose hands is that they usually produce better results than tight ones. The athlete who holds the game loosely plays more freely. More creatively. With better reaction time and more natural mechanics. They’re not spending energy trying to control what they can’t control. All of that energy goes back into the performance.

What you can control: your effort, your preparation, your focus in this moment. What you can’t control: the opponent’s performance, the officials, the bounce, the crowd. Loose hands means a firm grip on the first list and a genuinely open hand for the second.

Learn what Paul learned. The contentment — the loose-hands state — is available. It takes practice. It comes from learning over time that you are okay regardless of the result.

Diagnostic. Helps athletes identify specifically what they’re over-controlling.