Eight Months

I plan on vacuuming my room today. It's been a few months and I have a cat who sheds so the carpet in my room is borderline disgusting right now. But I HATE vacuuming and will use any excuse in the book not to. For the past few months my excuse has been: I'll clean once I'm not so busy with basketball. Well, our season officially ended last night. It wasn't an awesome ending but it was an awesome season. And now I have time to do those things on my to-do list which I've been putting off "because of basketball" like vacuuming my room and washing my sheets and clipping my toenails. Who knows, maybe I'll get real crazy and open my mail from the past 4 months.

Basketball season is longer than you might imagine. It actually began in June and, apart from a one month break in August, went until last night. That's eight months of basketball. Eight months of yelling and laughing and running and passing and praying and crying and shooting. Eight months of texting and teaching and cooking and correcting and dribbling and directing and laughing. Did I mention laughing? Eight months of games, practices, bus rides, meals, outings, and memories. It's been a very full eight months.

As I folded the uniforms and tucked them neatly away until next season, I grew pensive and a bit melancholy. It's always that way when something great comes to an end. This has been a truly special season with a truly special group of eleven girls knit tightly together. Their unity is what made our season so successful, so memorable. It wasn't their abilities that made me enjoy this season so much- it was them. Squish eleven girls in one passenger van, in a few tents, in hotel rooms, on busses, in locker rooms etcetera and there is bound to be drama. Not so with this bunch. My main prayer for them all season has been for unity and I'm not saying God always answers my prayers how I'd like Him to but He certainly had His hand on this bunch. I read Romans 15:5-6 this summer and thought, "Gosh, I would love for that to be said of our team." So I printed the verse on the back of our shirts and prayed it for our girls.

"May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ."

And it actually happened. These girls did glorify God with how they played. They always played hard but they also always played with integrity. And they treated each other with kindness and grace and I firmly believe this is a MAJOR reason we were successful. Because if I'm being totally honest with y'all, we weren't that skilled.

Many of these girls have been playing together since middle school- some even played together in elementary school. They share a common history and a common bond. They razz each other like any good teammate will, but they have each other's backs and care for each other like sisters. When someone did well, everyone cheered. When someone got hurt, everyone was concerned. When someone tripped, everyone laughed. And when the father of two of the sisters on the team tragically died this year, everyone was there, front and center at the funeral. These are truly a special group of girls.

After we lost last night, I didn't talk about the game at all. I told them to forget about it and made them talk about what they think they'll remember from this season. Of course, few memories actually took place on the court. The court is simply a venue, a place where we gather to shoot and sweat and laugh and grow; but it is all the moments off the court that make a season memorable. And we made A LOT of "off the court" memories.

Sure, we'll probably remember winning league because we were so proud to get a "dot" on the gym wall commemorating our league victory. And yes, we'll remember that we made to the semi-finals of CIF and even qualified for State- doing better than anyone, even ourselves, thought we'd do. But we'll more likely remember the funny, the awkward, and the embarrassing moments.

I told them that when they look back in ten years, they won't remember all their turn overs or missed shots; they'll remember their teammates and the way they felt when a packed gym roared in applause for them. They won't remember their mistakes or the losses; they'll remember the Souplantation trips and the bus rides and all the time spent laughing in the locker rooms. And they'll smile.

So, in light of the fact that the season is now over, I thought I'd share my final coaching confessions that took place during the play-offs.

Coaching Confessions Part 4: CIF Edition

* I didn't know who Sam Perkins or Ronny Turiaf are. You neither? Good. I don't feel so bad. Except another part of that confession is that I pretended that I did. I don't know why I did. I should have just come clean. They are both former Lakers and I don't follow the NBA too closely. One of my players asked me to name 10 players in the NBA and it took me a good 3 or 4 minutes to get to ten. And that was after naming Yao Ming, Rick Fox and mumbling a European sounding name hoping she'd let it slide. It's a bit embarrassing because I'm a basketball coach- you'd think I'd know more about the NBA. So in the company of my colleagues, I tried to hide my lack of NBA knowledge, fearing they would think less of me as a coach. Why were we discussing Sam Perkins and Ronny Turiaf? Ronny's sister and Sam's two daughters all play for the team we met in our first game of the play-offs. Despite their athletic family members, we beat this team fairly easily and celebrated with ugly faces afterwards.

* I sassed a fan. My favorite game of the year was the quarterfinal game when we beat Duarte in our gym in front of a packed house. It was so packed that the opposing fans were sitting directly behind me. At half time I went to retrieve my keys from my purse which was hidden under a woman's coat. In a rush, I tossed her coat to the side and she said, "Ex-cu-use me?" You know- the really sassy way that only African-American women in their fifties can get away with. I could have apologized for throwing her coat but no, I met her glare with one of my own and sassed back, "Yes, excuse you. You set your coat right on my purse," and I whipped my hair around and marched to the locker room. Not my most Christ-like moment. When we returned for the second half, she had moved seats.

* I let my girls have "free dress" at what could have been our last practice. Apparently they get super excited about not having to wear our maroon practice gear. The day before a CIF semi-final game, most teams are in no-nonsense, super serious mode. We were too:

For the record, Kelsi and I had forgotten to bring "free dress" clothes. These were our normal outfits minus my leggings and her sports bra. The next picture makes me belly laugh every time I see it because Kelsi is so ridiculous. Plus, it is indicative our team when I am instructing them: a few always listen intently, one typically listens skeptically, and several are totally unaware of what is going on.

Apparently our "free dress" practice was a success though, because the next day we came super close to upsetting the number one seed.

* I just had to google if the phrase is "number one seed" or "number one seat." I think that falls under the category of "things I probably should know by now.

* I made my girls eat at Souplantation and Subway a few too many times. They tease Kelsi and I for talking about flatbread sandwiches as much as we do but we've converted several of them. I love Souplantation for their blueberry muffins and soft serve and made my girls appreciate it as well.

* I cried before our semi-final game. Kelsi and I were sitting on the bench waiting for the girls to get dressed. The other team was shooting and maybe I should have been studying them closer, watching for lefties and good ball-handlers, but no, I got out my book. Something struck a cord and out came the waterworks. It was a silent cry though; no one needed to know. Until their AD asked us who the coach was and I looked up with tears streaming down my cheeks and said in an embarrassingly shaky voice, "I-I'm the coach."

* I yelled at the opposing assistant coach. Probably wasn't glorifying to God but this man had it coming. The refs were confused as to who the foul was on at the end of the game. It was clearly on one of our girls not in foul trouble but this man stood up and said, "It was on number 22." Number 22 happens to be our best player and she happened to have four fouls. Can you understand the reason for my rage? He made the mistake of glancing over at me when he said this lie so I did my frightening, White Witch of Narnia face and threw my pointer finger at his face while yelling, "You KNOW it wasn't on 22!" and I whipped my hair around before he could respond and stormed back to my bench. Yes, it was quite awkward having to shake his hand three minutes later.

* I hugged the star player of the other team. Surprising right? I rarely hug my family. Believe me, I did not initiate this hug. After we had shaken hands and I met with my team, their best player came over with arms opened wide for a hug. I'm never one to reject a hug. Oh wait, I've rejected hugs twice this season. But I wasn't angry and I was so caught off guard that I didn't know what else to do but hug the girl back. She smiled and said something really fast so I couldn't understand it. Two of my girls looked at me with wide eyes and asked, "What was that all about? What did she say?"

"I have no idea."

It was rather bizarre. Their whole team was a bit odd though because once we emerged from the locker room, about 6 of their girls swarmed around Kari telling her how well she had played and asking where she was going to college. Seriously surreal. Two minutes prior they were fouling the heck out of her and now they were devoted members of her fan club. I wish I had taken a picture.

* I walked into the open door of a parked car. I yelled, "OUCH!" much too loudly and grabbed one of my girls so I wouldn't fall to the ground and then walked briskly away from the scene. I thought, based on the decimal level of my scream and the pain I felt the next morning, that the bruise would be much more impressive than it appears here:

* I created awkward moments with college coaches. Perhaps you remember when I sang, "hellooooooo" into the phone when Harvard's coach called. I didn't look quite as silly this past week but I certainly didn't seem super professional. First, the Gonzaga head coach came to our practice to watch Kari play. Afterwards he said, "You girls sure laugh a lot during practice." He meant it kindly but I had to chuckle- most teams don't giggle as much as we do when prepping for important games. Then last night I met the Oregon head coach at our game. I asked him a question and he only half nodded and I assumed he hadn't heard me so I repeated the question. Turns out he had heard me the first time and gave me the same nod. Dope.

* I tried to avoid parents. After our final game I spent a good while convincing our girls that I was so proud of them and it was fine that we lost. We laughed about the season and by the time we were done reminiscing, their smiles were back and their smiles were genuine.

However, even after this picture, I was admittedly still bummed after the game. No one likes to go out playing poorly and I was beating myself up about game decisions I had made and wishing I had done things differently. I let all the girls leave first and took my time gathering my things so everyone would clear out and I could be bummed by myself. But they didn't leave. The parents were still congregating by the door and you want to know what awful things were running through my head?

"Gosh, why don't they just leave already? I don't want to rehash this game with anyone."

But when I walked out the door, they all started clapping. They had been waiting for me to thank me. I felt like such an idiot. An undeserving and richly blessed idiot.

While my fantastically fertile friends have been popping out babies left and right, I've had my own mothering to do. And though I was completely appalled when people asked if I was Kari's mom, I have loved the role I have gotten to play in the lives of these girls. I love that I was able to teach them about basketball but also about life- about how to make a pasta salad and how to deal with loss- about how to seek God first and how to make this face:

Last week I plugged in my i-Pod to my computer and noticed an icon I had never seen before. Apparently there was a video on my i-Pod. I figured I had accidentally taken a video of the inside of my purse but out of curiosity, I downloaded it and hit play.

What follows is a video one of my girls took before our very first game of the season. She had just torn her ACL so was sitting on the bench as the team warmed up and rifled through my purse until she found my i-Pod. Typical. It's not a very interesting video but I love it. I love it because it captures the girls, my girls, just being themselves. And even though she zooms in for a close up of my butt at one point, this video will always make me smile because it captures the girls, my girls, who I love so much.