Just What I Needed

Maggi, Kara, Me, Noah, and Austin.

As a lot of you know, I have managers on my basketball team. They’re usually anywhere from 3rd grade to 6th grade. I carefully choose these managers, and they’re almost always the sons or daughters of players I’ve coached or kids I’ve taught in school. This is because being a manager of a high school basketball team can be a tough job, and my managers can sometimes get caught in the crossfire between my players and I. Trust me, it helps if my manager’s parents understand what goes on at practices and games, and more importantly it helps that they understand me.

That said, being a manager can be a rewarding, enriching experience. The kids learn to be responsible, perform many assigned tasks, be resourceful, and to deal with the various personalities of the team, including my players, my coaches, and myself.

By the end of the season, my managers have grown close with the team and coaching staff. And sometimes, it seems like they understand me better than anybody . . .

This past season was a good one, and we ended up playing in the district tournament at the Convocation Center in Athens, Ohio. We played a team with a 24-1 record, and we lost by 1-point in a loss as tough as any I’ve ever experienced. As you can imagine, after the game my team, my coaching staff and I were in the locker room, trying to deal with the disappointment. After I addressed my team and they all went to their lockers, I sat on a couch there in the locker room, sort of stunned, and thought about the game. Everything was quiet as could be, other than the muffled crying from some of our players.

Those of you who have been a part of a team and suffered disappointment know just how difficult it can be.

As I sat there, head down and my hands covering my eyes, I felt a little arm reach around my neck and a small head lay upon my shoulder. It was one of my managers. She never said a word, never had to, just stayed for a few minutes, letting me know she was there and that she cared. It was a simple gesture, and it was exactly what I needed.

And in that moment, it meant the world to me.

Thanks Maggi.