There's nothing that can replace being on the court with your

In the words of Gordon Hayward, we find a truth both ancient and ever-new: “There’s nothing that can replace being on the court with your teammates. Just a feeling that can’t be duplicated. But for me to have a distraction like video games where I can hang out with friends, still compete through that. I mean that’s something I’m for sure thankful for, for sure helps me get away.” These words are not merely about sport or pastime, but about the eternal need for companionship, competition, and escape that dwells in the human heart. The ancients too understood that man is not meant to live in isolation; the soul craves both the fire of shared struggle and the cool water of peaceful diversion.

To stand with one’s teammates is to enter the sacred realm of trust. In that circle, each man or woman binds themselves to the other, not for gold or for glory, but for the heartbeat of unity. This unity—whether in battle, in labor, or in the games of the modern world—is a gift that no solitary pursuit can equal. Hayward speaks of a “feeling that can’t be duplicated,” and indeed, history testifies to this truth. Consider the Spartans at Thermopylae, who held their ground not for themselves alone, but for the brother standing beside them. Their valor was not born of individual greatness, but of shared fellowship.

Yet man is not always upon the battlefield or the court. Even the greatest warrior must one day return home, weary of the clash of arms. And here, Hayward points us to another truth: the power of distraction, of leisure that binds without the burden of strain. Just as the Greeks would gather at the symposium, weaving philosophy into music and laughter, so does he and his companions find a gentler arena in the world of video games. Though the medium is new, the pattern is ancient: to compete, to laugh, to share time away from the harsher weight of duty.

This balance is wisdom itself. For if a man lives only in the fire of striving, he will soon burn to ash. And if he dwells only in distraction, his spirit will grow soft and forget its strength. Thus, Hayward reveals the middle path: the court for glory and toil, the game for respite and release. The one sharpens the blade, the other cools it. Together, they keep the warrior whole.

Let us remember the tale of Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor-philosopher. He bore the burdens of empire, yet in the stillness of his private hours, he turned to his Meditations—words written only for himself, to quiet his soul and order his mind. Though his “video games” were but the practice of reflection, the lesson is the same: even the strongest require an outlet, a sanctuary where the spirit can breathe. Distraction is not weakness—it is medicine.

So what shall we, who inherit these lessons, take away? First, to seek out the teammates in our own lives, to cherish those moments of shared struggle—whether in sport, work, or family. Second, to allow ourselves the grace of escape, not as abandonment, but as replenishment. In every age, the wise have known this rhythm: to strive and to rest, to fight and to laugh. He who neglects one or the other falls into imbalance and sorrow.

Practical wisdom follows from this teaching. Engage deeply in your duties, whatever your “court” may be, giving heart and sweat to those who walk beside you. But also find your “video games”—whether it be play, art, reading, or any pursuit that brings lightness to your heart. Let these diversions not consume you, but rather strengthen you, so that when you return to the field, you are renewed.

For in the end, the lesson is eternal: life is both a contest and a respite, both struggle and sanctuary. To master both is to master the art of living. As Hayward himself reminds us, be thankful for the bonds, for the joys, for the escapes. And when the day comes to step onto your court—whatever that court may be—step with strength, gratitude, and the unshakable knowledge that you are never truly alone.