The sound of screaming from mommas, siblings, some grandparents … and most likely a loudmouth auntie or two. The sight of a group of dads lined up on the wall standing with their arms crossed and talking out of the side of their mouths to the guys next to them – a couple of them with munchkins hanging onto their legs. The smell of sweat, popcorn and gym shoes. You guessed it… there is nothing like a middle-school basketball tourney!
This weekend Spooky Nook Champion Mill hosted an Under Armor Future Finals. I love the Under Armor tourneys. (My fave being the UAA finals when the 7+ foot 16 year-olds walk around town and I am in utter amazement every single time….. How DO we grow them that big?? And what is their poor momma’s weekly grocery bill!? I shutter to think about it.)
So, while the sights and sounds of these tourneys make me want to break out my gym shoes and go running out on the court… to coach or play…. a little piece of me gets super sad. Not because I sprain an ankle and pull a hammy just thinking about being back on a court, but because there is a piece of me that never got to realize her potential (or maybe lack there of)… so she always wonders. And wondering is worse than knowing.
Basketball is in my DNA. I grew up worshiping old school basketball. Larry Bird (big ol’ guy who wasn’t super slick… but dang he could play ball), Isaiah Thomas (so cute… and so little for the NBA), Dr. J, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar… and the icon, my hero… Michael Jordan. I mean, that Sports Illustrated VHS… 1989 NBA Superstars… my brothers and I wore that thing OUT! I still think of it every time I hear John Mellencamp’s song Small Town.
I grew up hearing all about the legend my dad was in high school… that full court shot that made it, but didn’t count because he was throwing the ball in from the baseline and no one else touched it before it hit the net. (Yeah… he’s a local legend. lol!) I grew up chasing that basketball dream. I LOVED the game. I LOVED to not only watch it… but play it as well. I LOVED being driven, pushed, coached… I LOVED the after-game or after-practice talk that occurred every time my shoes touched the court – well, tolerated the after-practice talk. A 12-year old only can only listen for so long before she starts thinking about the phone call she needs to make at 7:30 on the one landline phone in the house.
I was so pumped for high school ball, that I decided to “run” cross country. (And that experience my friends is a whole different post. Let’s just say, I bonded closely with some friends and had my fair share of ice cream that season.) However, I was also gifted with extremely flat feet, so “running” (and I use that term very lightly) long distance caused me a lot of pain. Well-intentioned coaches taped my feet every day… and to make a long story short, once basketball season conditioning started we realized I had grade four stress fractures on both shins – requiring 3-4 months of no running, no jumping, limited time on my feet and lots of ice.
Devastated. Broken. Crushed. But… determined, resolute and dedicated…. I attended every practice & game, studied the plays, shot a million and one free-throws, would give my friends feedback on their footwork, their body position, and their follow through. My sophomore year, the coach put me on varsity and had me float to JV for two quarters each game to get court experience. However, the JV coach had her team picked out – so I sat. I didn’t have court experience at the high school level, so during the varsity games – I sat. By the end of the season my spirit was broken. That season took a huge emotional toll on me. When I turned in my uniforms at the end of my sophomore year, I walked away and never looked back. Basketball was over for me.
See, it wasn’t the debilitating injury that took me out. I bounced back from that. That I could fight through. It was when I broke inside – when I felt like everyone gave up on me. That is what took me out. When I felt like no one believed in me anymore… I no longer believed in myself. I couldn’t rebound.
Fast-forward to the 47-year old me that still thinks she’s 20…. As I watch these extremely-skilled players I can’t help but think about the amount of money that has been invested in their development. I am sure many of them are naturally gifted athletes, but I wonder how many out there aren’t gifted. How many of them have had that one person that believed so much in them that it took them to the next level? I mean this is club…. select… AAU…UAA… not just your ordinary school team. What about those kiddos who parents can’t, or won’t, dedicate the time, the money, the travel – to get their kiddos to the next level? What about the kiddos who want to learn, love the feeling of the sport, want to be better, want to put in the work, but maybe aren’t naturally talented? What about the Michael Jordans? (I mean he got cut from his high school team, remember.)
I have three AMAZING kiddos. Three kiddos I never put in club or select for many reasons… mainly they never had the drive for sports. They loved sports as recreation and time with friends. (Obviously they get their lack of competition from their father… lol! Just kidding, honey.) There is something beautiful in recreational sports.. but I feel like recreational sports are dying. Everyone is chasing the championship, the title, the glory…. and that’s okay too as long as we have a balance. (Kind of like when I eat chocolate… it’s fine until I try to be the champion of eating the entire Costco-sized bag of Dubai Chocolate in one sitting.)
Where was I? Chocolate…. competition… oh yes… recreational sports. Let’s bring them back. Grade-school coaches, don’t forget about the recreational kiddos or the Michael Jordans on the team. Don’t get so caught up in winning that we forget to teach them, coach them…believe in them. Grade school teams (in my humble opinion) should be about growth, instilling a love for movement, a love for the game, a love of teamwork, and self-discipline to push through discomfort. Because if we can build a great foundation for a kiddo, they could become the next Michael Jordan… or even the next Caitlyn Clark. Don’t forget, it’s not about natural skill, but spirit, dedication, love, growth, determination and resilience.
Never forget you can break the body… but when you break the spirit… you kill the dream. Let’s focus on building the spirit in our kiddos… no matter what their passion. Let’s build great humans… and if they love basketball and Dubai Chocolate… all the better.
Well, Since You're Here 