Scars of a Champion

20

“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 3:14

            Seeing Jordan Ward crawl across the finish line was one of the final scenes before I ended my thirty-year coaching and teaching career. I say “ended”—that’s not including the two recent teaching escapades that came out of the blue, adventures that Jordan would relate to, as well.

            Jordan’s story takes us back to May 2012, the finals of the state girls’ track meet. A senior, she would end her high school career that evening, and the end would come in a dramatic, gut-wrenching scene at the finish line. I was there.

            The dramatic end was not the end of her athletic career. She went on to play college basketball at Central Oklahoma University (OCU). She had been a basketball star at Alvord High School, too. I learned that fact much later, and it did not surprise me. She was the tough-as-nails epitome of a point guard. I wish I could’ve coached her—or, better yet, I wish she could’ve coached me. That’s what the greatest players do.

Occasionally, you’ll see someone stretch out to meet a challenge in such a way that we can’t help but sit up and take notice. Even for us, we hope one day we can look back and see that we pushed life to the brink that way. The final score won’t really matter on that day.

Jordan Ward will remind us today of the value of such an approach to life.

I had the opportunity to meet the young Alvord High senior at a restaurant an hour or so after that memorable race. It was a happenstance meeting because our Red Oak track boys and the Alvord track girls were eating at the same restaurant after the 2A and 4A state track meet.

I say “happenstance,” but the truth is, nothing is exactly that.

When I saw Jordan, I recognized her by the Alvord jersey she wore and by the gimpy way she walked. You wouldn’t expect a young lady who earlier in the day had become the repeat gold-medalist in both the 100 and 300 hurdle races to be gimpy, or maybe you would. But this particular gimpiness came compliments of the sprint relay, the final race of her high school track career.

Jordan ran the anchor leg of the exciting 4 x 4 race. The race was close when the baton came to her for that final lap, but she was in third place. She quickly displayed her speed, beginning to close the gap on the two runners in front of her as soon as she got out of the first curve. She took the lead at the top of the final curve and had built a three or four-meter lead by the time she rounded that curve. We were sitting in the stands near that curve and had a bird’s eye view.

We could see that, as she made the curve, the runner in fourth place had run a great leg, too. She made her move and pulled into second place. Jordan could feel her coming on strong. With twenty meters to go, Jordan clearly began running out of steam. She leaned. As she leaned, she began reeling, flailing her arms, fighting to hold off her challenger. From the stands, I gripped my fists, hoping she could hang on just two or three more strides. She was pressing with all she had toward that elusive goal only feet ahead. A silver medal was not in her sights.

But Jordan Ward leaned too far, and ten feet short of the finish line, she sprawled face-first on the track and could only helplessly crawl to the finish line and collapse her tired body there. In those three seconds, three girls had passed her, leaving her team in a medal-less fourth place.

It was the most glorious fourth-place finish I’ve ever seen.

I do not remember who won first place. Or second. Or third. But I remember the fourth-place champion. I always will.

How do you forget her? Hers was an awful and heart-wrenching end to a race, but she gave it all she had. She pushed and shoved, scratched and clawed, dug and dived—literally.

She and I, ironically, both ended our careers right in that moment. It was almost as if it were a sign. We ran the race hard, and sometimes we finished it hard, too. How fitting.

I think of her still, fourteen years later, every time I read the apostles’ words:

“I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

I’m giving it my all, no matter what, even … even if I fall on my face in the attempt. Stretching for such goals is always worth the risk, and when you run the race with that spirit, you can walk away battered and scarred, and with no regrets.

             Ask Jordan Ward.

            She has scars to prove it.

May 9, 2026