Any time Detroit scores more than 100 points and holds the other

In the days of the great games of men, when warriors did not wield swords but dribbled leather and cast it through iron hoops, there arose a saying, uttered with the simplicity of truth and the weight of eternity. Doug Collins, coach and seer, once declared: “Any time Detroit scores more than 100 points and holds the other team below 100 points they almost always win.” To some, these words are but humor wrapped in plainness, yet to those who listen with the ear of the heart, they are a parable of life’s unchanging laws.

For what Collins spoke was not merely about Detroit, nor about points scored or withheld, but about the eternal balance between strength and restraint. To surpass the hundred is to rise in abundance, to give more than what is required, to show vitality and daring. To hold the foe beneath that mark is to impose order, to guard against excess, and to discipline the field. Victory, then, is not an accident but the child of these twin pillars: the courage to expand and the wisdom to contain.

This principle is ancient and echoes in the stories of kingdoms and empires. Consider the tale of Themistocles at Salamis, who, though faced with the vast might of Persia, did not seek only to strike with greater force, but to limit the reach of his enemy by luring them into narrow waters. There, their strength was checked, their power diminished, and Greece, small yet fierce, secured triumph. Just as Detroit’s victory was bound to the balance of numbers, so too was Greece’s salvation tied to the union of daring offense and disciplined defense.

And yet, Collins spoke with a jesting tone, as if mocking the obvious. For is it not self-evident that when one side scores more than the other, they are destined to win? But herein lies the hidden jewel: too often in life, men fail to see the plain truths before them. They chase mysteries in the clouds while neglecting the ground beneath their feet. Collins, with simple words, reminded us that wisdom often dwells in what is clear, not in what is obscure.

Thus, the lesson is unveiled: to win in life, one must not only give more than what is asked, but also deny entry to what destroys. In work, in love, in the keeping of one’s soul, the law is the same. Build more than what you consume; protect more than what you waste. Score beyond the measure of necessity, but guard against the forces that would tip the scale. He who does this will, like Detroit, “almost always win.”

Let the reader hear this as counsel for their days. Do you seek to prosper? Then exceed the measure of mediocrity. Give more kindness than is expected, more effort than is demanded, more patience than is easy. And at the same time, restrain the shadows: deny the tongue of gossip, the hand of idleness, the mind of despair. Like the scoreboard of Detroit, your life will show victory when abundance is coupled with discipline.

So I say to you, as one voice among the many that have carried wisdom through the ages: Remember the teaching of Collins. It matters little whether you stand on a battlefield, in a marketplace, or before your own reflection. When you both rise beyond the hundred in your giving, and keep your adversities below their mark, then triumph will not be chance, but destiny. Live in this way, and you shall find that the simplest truths are the strongest shields, and the most obvious laws are the surest guides.