Memories...

With the fourth quarter clock winding down to under 10 seconds, our point guard, Leann, drove the ball into the lane. The defense converged and poked the ball out of bounds under our basket with only five seconds remaining. We were down by two so this was definitely crunch time. The inbounding play called for screens to free up one post, Jennifer, to help her to find a hole in the remaining defense anywhere in or near the lane. Jen received the pass in the middle of the lane and attempted the game tying shot. The whistle sounded for the foul as Jen’s shot missed its mark. The clock showed 3 seconds remaining.

Jennifer, although a menacing ‘aircraft carrier’, had long demonstrated skill at shooting free throws that would make Shaq look like Calvin Murphy. Barring a miracle, we were sunk. The first... SWISH! My innards were in pandemonium. The second... Clang!... Of course!

Slumping at my desk, I hung up the phone. The NACA national tournament director had painted a bleak picture for our team and had even asked if I knew what we were getting into. Our girls’ team had only played the two teams available within 125 miles here in South Texas, so we were only 3-1. Our whole school, from 1st through 12th grade had only 62 students. Our practice court was a 20'x20' cement slab abutting a wall to the bank parking lot, a metal storage building and gravel.

The director at the tournament site in Dayton, Tennessee, informed me that we had drawn the top seeded team from Kennesaw, Georgia, at 28-0. What were we getting into? Why did Sam, the school administrator, get us into this?

We rented a gym to practice. The girls had to chip in since there was no money in the budget to cover even this modest expense. They worked like dogs and began to steadily improve.

Just a day before we were to leave, the father of two of our top players died, again. But, as had happened the two previous times, the doctors were able to bring him back. Even though he was still touch and go, the sisters and their family decided that they should play in the tournament.

We boarded the old yeller school bus and traveled through Texas, Louisiana, and part of Mississippi, before the brakes failed. Malcolm, our driver, unloaded us at a McDonald’s while he worked his magic. As we entered the restaurant, a team from Mississippi that was also entered into the tourney was leaving. They looked pretty substantial. What had we gotten into?

The remainder of the long trip was without incident. The girls bunked in a dorm with the other teams and I stayed in with the teams on the boys’ side of the tournament.

Finally, it was time for our first game to begin. What had we gotten into?

Jennifer’s second... Clang!... Of course! The ball clunked off of the back rim and bounded out just far enough to clear the inner rebounders and was nabbed by our second low post, ‘Too Tall’ Natalie. She took it straight back to the rim and put it in as the buzzer sounded!

I was standing as the play evolved. As the ball went through the basket, I immediately realized the win. I was watching my girls during this time and and saw that they didn’t understand the consequences of what had just occurred.. A few moments passed before it sunk in as the ball had done. As they saw the light, their countenances began to show the unmitigated glee of little children and the celebration began. We were 4-1, Kennesaw was 28-1.

We hung very tough the rest of the tournament as well and ended up fourth. The team received the Sportsmanship Award. (It was reported by our chaperones that other overseers had even exclaimed in a moment of off court frustration to their own charges, "Why can’t you be like that team?")

What had we gotten into? Just a circumstance to show me the great maturity, character, and discipline that my players and students had grown into. What a great blessing.