Going into this game, I had a real feeling that we could win. Not just an artificial optimism, but a genuine belief that the strides made over the past two weeks would result in a victory. Part of the battle in coaching twelve- to fourteen-year olds is convincing them not to give up. Even though we had lost three straight games, I hadn’t had to work as hard as usual on this group. In the days following the Stephens loss they quickly forgot the things that hadn’t gone well and instead focused on their improved grasp of the offense and willingness to play hard on defense. My only contribution to this mentality has been a conscious effort to focus on skills and fundamentals during practice at the expense of lengthy (and often pointless) intrasquad scrimmages. By beginning each practice with a series of passing drills, I’ve given them a chance to see improvement from week to week. We then typically flow into any number of drills addressing individual skills. Every boy on this team has learned to take a charge, to pivot away from pressure, to ball fake, to pump fake, to box out, and to hold the ball high when putting back an offensive rebound. Over the course of our first three games, more and more of these skills have been demonstrated on the court, and the result has been tremendous overall improvement. Even so, I wasn’t sure if there had been enough improvement to get us a win.
Washington, our opponent tonight, had lost to Stephens two weeks ago, 75-73 in overtime. Since we had been competitive with Stephens for a good portion of the game, I took this as a good sign, but the score worried me. I didn’t think we could score seventy-five points in eight quarters, let alone four.
We won, 46-40. I had an almost immediate sense that we’d at least be in this game until the end. We had started slowly in each of our previous three games, but we won this first quarter 8-4, thanks mainly to outstanding effort by all involved. Two plays still stand out in my mind, both fouls called against us. The first came when DiMarrie (duh-mär-ee-ay) was whistled for boxing out too aggressively, something I’ve never seen called at this level. If I could’ve, I would’ve stopped the game right then and there for a parade in his honor. Later, Stephan, a 6’2” seventh grader drew a foul for posting up too aggressively. Parade number two. Things slipped a bit in the second quarter, and we ended up being down at the half by three, but I was never really concerned.
When we came back from the locker room, however, I noticed that Andrew’s aunt was talking to the teacher who keeps score for us, and she was angry. The second half was due to start in about forty-five seconds, so I couldn’t really get involved, but I did catch this choice quote: “They’re working hard, but they aren’t getting to enjoy the fruits of their labor! Now that’s not right!” My principal -- attending her first game -- leaned over and told me that the aunt had asked to have a parent conference with me. A parent conference about basketball. That would be a first. Andrew’s uncles didn’t seem to be concerned. They had sat through practice the day after the Stephens game and appeared to be satisfied. As they sat in the stands tonight, they were clearly thrilled with what was going on. I assumed that they’d straighten things out for me.
As the third quarter started, we took control right away and enjoyed a seven-point lead as we entered the fourth. The lead extended to ten at one point and it looked like we might be able to coast home, but we actually had to work for it in the end. Washington drew to within three inside the final minute before we made a few freethrows to get to the final of 46-40. Sweet victory. When we rebounded their final desparation three-pointer, Andrew’s uncle hopped out of the bleachers and high-fived every player on the bench. When he got to me I was still focused on the game, so he just slapped me in the ass. Really.
We won this game because of a complete team effort as seven different players scored, which is rare for this level. The defense was outstanding, the rebounding was as consistent as I’ve come to expect, and we did a much better job taking care of the ball. Still, there were some individual performance which could not be ignored. Stephan came into his own tonight. He made the team as a sixth grader last year based on his height, but he wasn’t coordinated at all. This year is different. He’s gained confidence with each game, and tonight he was clearly looking to dominate. He had three blocks in the first quarter alone, all three of which drew exclamations even from the Washington fans. Offensively, he was smart and aggressive. He posted up and called for the ball, and then was patient when he got it. He scored eight baskets on an assortment of lay-ups and short jumpers and finished with a game-high seventeen points. Kenneth, the point guard with a temper, also played exceptionally well, but the thing he did to impress me the most came when he was on the bench. Washinton’s point guard had hit a couple of three-pointers in the first half and penetrating an awful lot, so we decided at halftime to hybridize our zone and have one guy play him man-to-man. Midway through the third quarter he came out for a rest, so we went back to our basic defense. He checked in a few minutes later, and just as I was about to alert one of our guards to pick him up, Kenneth beat me to it and yelled out the instruction himself. Even though he was out of the game, he was aware of what was going on. I almost fell over. I can’t tell you how rare this is. The boys always watch the game when they’re on the bench, but it’s usually more like the way you would watch a game from your couch. They know the score, but that’s about it. I love these boys.
All the news was not good, however. Robert, our starting point guard, has been having trouble all season with his passing. He has a tendency to make short, looping passes which are easily intercepted. Also, he dribbles too much. I’ve been talking to him about this for a while, but tonight I finally had had enough, so his playing time was drastically reduced. He didn’t play much at all in the fourth quarter, and I noticed him pouting on the bench. Meanwhile, Eric (Andrew’s little brother who is on the team out of the goodness of my heart) was also deflating as he watched the clock ticking down. He played only the final three seconds, and I don’t think he even touched the ball. In the locker room following the game, the boys were ecstatic. They laughed, they pantomimed slow-motion instant replays of critical moments, and they even complimented each other. Everyone was basking in the afterglow of victory. Everyone, that is, except for Robert and Eric. I understood their emotions, but it was still difficult for me to accept. Robert had played a fair amount, but the team had won! And I don’t think Eric has any right to be upset at all, because by all rights he should’ve been sitting in the stands. I didn’t say anything to Eric, but I tried to speak with Robert. I told him that I understood that he was upset, but that this wasn’t the end of the world. It didn’t even mean that he wouldn’t start next week against Franklin. It only means that he needs to dribble less and make better passes. He nodded and went back to pouting. I gathered the sweaty jerseys and started calculating playoff scenarios while making a mental note to talk to Robert in a day or two.
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