The New York Times reported the words, but the Wall Street Journal didn’t. When Bam Adebayo, two days ago, was asked to describe the moment when he scored 83 points in an NBA game, second only to Wilt Chamberlain’s 100 points, he said, “Man, I wish I could relive it twice. I credit God, my family, my teammates, this crowd.”
A wag commented that, right after God, he should have credited the Washington Wizards, the team ostensibly defending him.
But credit, too, to Bam. The first question most sportscasters ask is “How did you feel?” On the classical view of the passions, this is like asking someone to describe the agitation of his guts, either his viscera or heart. “Describe to me what your guts felt like when you did this.”
Who cares? But Bam sensibly externalized the question and turned first to God.
Others credited Bam’s hard work, recounting the long hours he put in as a boy, practicing. Others played up the fact that he had just surpassed Kobe Bryant’s record of 81. But Bam sprinted right past the four species of pride identified by Pope St. Gregory. He attributed his excellence to God, not himself. He did not claim that he had merited it. He did not overstate it. And he did not draw comparisons with others.
Like all of us, he’ll need to battle pride later. But just then, when the spotlight was on him and the cameras were rolling, he spoke with humility.
You’ve noticed that athletes often give credit to God first. Fernando Mendoza, the 2025 Heisman Trophy winner and quarterback who led Indiana to the college football championship, when he was in the spotlight said, “This moment is bigger than me. [sic] First, I want to thank God.”
Kudos to Mendoza, who is said to be a devout Catholic. By mentioning God first, outside his intention he actually amplified himself. If he had said out loud what many think privately at such a moment, “First, I want to exult in how great I am,” he would have drawn himself down in the eyes of others, deservedly so.
“I’m a faith-filled guy. I believe in a Creator. I believe in Jesus. Ultimately, I think that’s what defines me the most.” This was Scottie Scheffler after winning the 2024 Masters, another athlete side-stepping the four species of pride.
The interviewer then pressed him on his feelings. Scottie refused to introspect his guts and instead changed the subject, returning to the objective message he wished to convey: “It’s hard to describe the feeling. I think that what defines me the most is my faith. I believe in one Creator, that I’ve been called to come out here, do my best, compete, and glorify God.”
I’ve taught many athletes and can report that the conflict that some find between athletics and academics is a false conflict. Pursuing a sport seriously can make an athlete a better student. In the same way, pursuing some sport seriously should make us better Christians.
How do other achievers compare with the athletes? Over the last three years of Oscar winners, encompassing nearly 70 speeches, only two recipients referred to God, but how they did so fell short of the athletes.
Last year, Adrien Brody, when he took the stage to receive the Best Actor award (for The Brutalist) said, “Thank you, God. Thank you for this blessed life.” But even then, he did not quite give credit to God for his achievement.
And two years ago, Da’Vine Joy Randolph (Best Supporting Actress, The Holdovers) began with “God is so good. God is so good.” And she closed with “I pray to God that I get to do this more than once” – which sounds like greediness rather than gratitude.
Already in 2015, a writer for the Huffington Post wrote an essay on how Oscar winners were no longer thanking God. Reviewing almost 1400 acceptance speeches, Carol Kuruvilla found that Stephen Spielberg was thanked the most, with 42 mentions. Harvey Weinstein came in second. (Res ipsa loquitur.) While God received only 19 mentions, and many of these were goofy or off-key:
I’d like to thank the Academy first of all. . . .And God, for indulging me in this tiny moment. (Mel Gibson, Braveheart, 1995)
I want to thank my mom and my dad; I want to thank my wife Keisha, my children, my ancestors who continue to guide my steps, and God, God who believes in us all. (Forest Whitaker, 2006)
Thank you, God, for giving us Harvey Milk (Dustin Lance Black, 2008)
And so began this journey that I was able to really understand that God’s hand, or power greater than myself, “the forces,” as Sidney Poitier calls them, were engaged in leading my life to a plane and a level that I had not even imagined. But I released myself to those forces, and literally said inside myself, “Thy will be done.” (Oprah Winfrey, 2011)
The comparison speaks for itself. These celebrities mention a god, maybe, and gods, but they do not give God the credit rather than themselves.
Nobel Laureates as one might expect refrain from goofy utterances, but they also refrain from crediting God. Even the sole exception in recent years (Jon Fosse, Literature, 2023) had to cushion his reference: “Thank you to the Nobel Foundation for organizing everything so well. Thank you to the Swedish Academy for awarding me the Nobel Prize in Literature. And thanks be to God.” Note it was not: “I wish to thank God, source of all wisdom and of the intelligent order we see in creation.”
But later he plumed himself on it, saying in a podcast, “I had the pleasure of provoking a lot of people by thanking God when I made my speech at the banquet.”
Bam and Scottie did not credit God to provoke anyone. They gave credit where credit was due. And moved on.
