In September of 1991, I landed my first paying job in education as a substitute teacher at Franklin Middle School. Three months later I was hired to a full-time position at Lindbergh, and I’ve been there ever since. Tonight I returned to Franklin for the first time since 1991 as our Lindbergh team played a game which would be critical to our playoff hopes. It wasn’t exactly like Bobby Knight bring Texas Tech back to play Indiana, but it makes for a nice lead-in, possibly more interesting than the game itself.
Even though we started slowly, it was clear to everyone right away that we were the superior team. At the close of the first quarter we were up 15-10, and I scolded the boys for playing so poorly. Clearly, they were too comfortable with their talent advantage and were playing down to the level of their competition. Apparently inspired by this upbraiding, they dominated the next two quarters 37-14. Midway through the second quarter I heard a frustrated Franklin player complain to his teammate, “We already lost this game anyway.” It’s my guess that they checked the standings, saw that we were 1-3, and thought they might have a shot at this game. Unfortunately they didn’t. For some reason, Franklin has had a hard time getting a team together recently; I think it’s been three years since they’ve won a game, which is sad. I spoke with their assistant coach before the game about the difficulties of a losing season, especially how hard it is to keep the boys positive. The worst thing is how viciously classmates will turn on the members of a losing team. With each successive loss the boys become the targets of increased ridicule. The reasons are simple: boys who were cut or weren’t eligible are jealous and it’s much easier for middle school students to criticize than it is to offer support. On the surface, it would seem that playing for your school team would be an honor, but for middle school students it also represents an enormous risk.
For our part, we played exceptionally well. Playing time was split equally amongst all thirteen players, and eleven different boys scored. More and more of the skills we’ve been working on in practice appeared in the game, and the boys were even noticing. As they came to the bench for a time-out immediately following a fastbreak lay-up, one of the boys looked at me and said, “That was just like the three-on-two drill from practice.” Music to my ears.
The fourth quarter was mostly garbage time. There isn’t a huge gap between our starters and bench players, but it was noticeable. A highlight for was having brothers Ivory and Isaiah play the two guard positions for a while before replacing them with brothers Andrew and Eric. Franklin closed a bit in the end to make the final score 60-42. A comfortable win.
But if everything had gone smoothly, it just wouldn’t have been Lindbergh Basketball. Midway through the second quarter our best guard, Kenneth, made a behind-the-back pass, something I’ve strictly forbidden. I pulled him immediately, and he came back to the bench in a foul mood. He said something about my decision’s being “stupid” and kicked the bench. When I told him that I couldn’t accept behind the back passes, he started yelling something about how that was the only thing he could do in that situation. It’s an interesting thing to have a thirteen-year old kid yelling at you. Suddenly, the game became secondary. Very conscious of the seven other boys on the bench, my four-year old daughter sitting a few feet away, and the handful of parents and family sitting in the bleachers just behind the bench, I gave him the type of tongue-lashing that’s usually reserved for the practice gym. It was short, but to the point. Follow the rules, or you don’t play. He didn’t for the rest of the game. Obviously, it wasn’t the pass that bothered me, so much as his reaction to being pulled from the game. Playing time is both the carrot and the stick; there’s no better way to reward effort or point out a mistake, but some players don’t react well to the embarrassment of being yanked from a game. Others do. At one point in the second half I pulled another boy for taking a three-pointer (which he made) about thirty seconds after I told the team to stop taking outside shots. When he got to the bench he smiled sheepishly and apologized. A few minutes later, he was back in the game. Kenneth, on the other hand, probably won’t recover from this until Monday.
Kenneth’s partner in the starting backcourt is Robert, the boy who was pouting after last week’s win. Tonight he played much better, and I told him so several times throughout the game. After the game, however, he was wearing the same sullen face as last week. We had just won a game that would possibly put us into the playoffs, and he was upset because he had sat out during the fourth quarter of a blowout. I explained to him that I wasn’t punishing him, I was just letting some of the other guys have a chance to play. He didn’t want to hear it, at least not tonight. Just another issue for me to deal with tomorrow.
On the bus ride home I asked the bus driver if he could radio the other drivers who were taking Robinson and Washington home after their games. During half time word had gotten to me that Robinson was actually ahead by five points, something I didn’t think was possible. As it turned out, they lost to Stephens, 71-70, and Washington lost to Hamilton by a lot. Assuming that these scores are correct, our win clinched a playoff spot. Our record is now 0-0.
Lindbergh Alumni update: Before the game I saw a former Lindbergh student who now attends Franklin. I had gotten to know her because her older brother, Eddie, played for me four or five years ago, and she had been keeping me up to date on the ups and downs of his life. About six months ago, Eddie was arrested for some sort of involvement in a robbery. The story from his sister was that it was actually his cousin, but that Eddie wouldn’t sell him out. So Eddie was sent to a youth camp for three months, then released and put on probation. Two weeks later he was seen in the company of known gang members, which was a violation of his probation. Knowing that he would be sent back to the camp for a longer sentence, he decided to skip his trial date and run. He was picked up within the week, and now he’s in a youth detention center serving a six-year sentence.
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