Survive and Be Champions

The title above does not have the same ring to it as the cliche about tournament play, "Survive and Advance".  However, at some point, if you continue to survive and advance, eventually you reach the point where advancement is no longer an option.  Eventually, if you survive, you are the champion.  Friday night, the CYA 4th Grade Hornets had reached that point.  The season was going to end whether they survived or not.

The cliche, "Survive and Advance," perfectly fit this team.  In their second and third round games, the Hornets shot out to big leads, then hung on as their opponents' chipped away.  Both games ended with 2-point victories.  Again, in the title game, the Hornets took a good lead.  In the 4th quarter that lead dwindled, as their opponent's best player kept driving, getting fouled and draining free throws.  Eventually, that lead was cut to 1.  That was when the dreaded parent moment occured.

Parents want a lot for their children.  When it comes to sports, I think we want fun first, success second.  Sure, in theory, life lessons are important, but some of the biggest life lessons are achieved through failure and pain.  Theoretically, life lessons are great; in reality, parents want to protect their children from the failure and pain.  A little failure is fine.  Great failure...kind of want to avoid that.

With 11 seconds left and a 1 point lead, we had an inbounds pass.  I sat there thinking that we could dribble for 10 seconds, take a half court shot and win.  A mere 3 seconds after we inbounded the ball, the opposing team fouled Eldest.  This was a tightly called game, and both teams were in the bonus with fouls.  This means Eldest went to the line with a one-and-one opportunity.

With the benefit of hindsight and time, I know Eldest should have gone to the line for 2 shots, and we should get the ball back.  That is the correct call for an intentional foul away from the ball.  I was thinking something along those lines at the time, but the stress of the situation probably clouded my thoughts.  Not to mention, no one else thought of it, and it would have been, what's the word, unseemly for me to start yelling that when my kid had the chance to ice the game.  Plus, it just seemed wrong that the other team could do nothing, even though that is the rule.  So nothing was said, the refs made the call, and he stood there at the line facing a one-and-one.

I remember the Wife telling me that she got to the game early and Eldest was practicing free throws, "just in case".  I remember thinking that I couldn't wait to praise him for that extra practice and say that the practice paid off.  I wish I could tell you now that the practice did pay off and that he drained both free throws.  Unfortunately, this game was not destined to end so cleanly and triumphantly for my family.  He missed the first free throw, badly.  I feared the life lesson of great failure more than anything at that point.

Seven seconds remained when another Hornet got the rebound and astutely passed the ball out of a triple team.  Dribble the ball around for 5-6 seconds and this game is over.  Alas, these are 4th graders.  A shot went up, missed and the ball went out with 4 seconds remaining.  The tension felt by everyone in that gym for 45 minutes would last for 4 more seconds.

The opponents rolled the ball inbounds to prevent the clock from starting.  At halfcourt, a player picked it up, dribbled towards the lane and put up a shot that never even reached rim height.  The buzzer sounded and the win was preserved, 28-29.

I was never a great basketball player.  Eldest is not, and most likely is not fated to be, a great basketball player.  I will probably never experience a child of mine winning a high school or college championship in basketball.  I will never see one of my children cut down the nets.  And that is fine.  I have burned in my memory a picture of five 4th grade boys, arms raised in triumph, running to their coach and their teammates to celebrate the CYA 4th grade boys championship.  The joy felt by those boys on Friday night could not have been any less than will be felt every night this week by conference champions knowing they get to play in the NCAA Tournament.  The celebration was no less than we will see in a few weeks, when four college teams earn a trip to the Final Four.

The emotion felt by all of the parents was some mix of joy, empathy and relief.  For 4 games, we watched boys on the other team end their season in tears.  For 4 games, we feared the same for many of our boys.  For 4 games, we cheered and we stressed over a meaningless tournament in suburban Virginia.  For one game, we watched our boys survive and be champions.  The comment I heard most was "I can't believe they won the whole thing."

We couldn't believe because we didn't want to presume anything.  But this was not out of the blue.  The Hornets finished the regular season tied for 3rd in a league of 22 teams.  In 11 or 12 regular season games that I watched, I thought we were the better team in all but one.  We had a good team and we won because we played as a team.  In each game in the tournament we had the better team and we played better team basketball.  In the championship game, 7 of our 9 players scored, including one player who had not scored all season.

Ultimately, we got our life lesson.  Our boys, and their parents, all understood that they won because they were the better team, not because they had the best player.  They knew their championship game opponents scored 28 points, 24 of which were scored by one player.  They knew they played best as a team, and they improved throughout the season and the tournament.  In the end, they all won and they all celebrated.  Nine 4th grade boys.  Arms in the air, screaming, after a well deserved victory.

I over-reacted for about 1 second.  The joy I felt was no more than I could feel if my son did make the Final Four.  I yelled an uncontrolled "Yes!!" and started to jump to my feet.  I quickly recovered and remembered that this was not a regional final.  I stood and clapped, loudly and respectfully, for about a minute, as I do after every pro game I attend.  I clapped for both teams.  For the effort, for the show they gave s, for putting themselves out their and giving it their best.  Then I went and gave Eldest a big hug...almost as big as the smile on his face.

I have thought, many times over the last few days, that he will probably never reach these heights in basketball again.  Championships should be cherished because they are rare.  I played 10 seasons of sports in high school and won one district team title.  I swam for 4 years in college and never even sniffed a team title.  Two weeks ago I followed the CAA Swimming Championships on a mobile swimming app and "saw"  William & Mary fall short in their quest for a first Men's Swimming title by finishing second, instead of first, in the last relay.  The last relay.  Two nights ago I watched William & Mary lose the CAA Basketball Championship game for the third time in seven years.  That elusive NCAA berth remains an unachieved goal, after 321 years if you want to be dramatic, after 67 if you want to be more accurate.  I'm glad the Hornets won, because they deserved the win.  I'm glad one of my boys won a team title in something, because I honestly don't know when, or if, it will happen again.

Reflections on What Has Happened

Most of what I would cover has already been mentioned, but...

1.  That William and Mary loss to Delaware hurt just a bit.  I cared about 3 basketball games this past weekend, and went 1 for 3.  I will admit, the one was the most important.  The UVA loss to Maryland was more annoying than upsetting.  William and Mary coming up short again, and remaining one of five original members of the NCAA to never play in the Tournament was painful.

2.  Spring for the last couple of days has been nice.  Not looking forward to the return of cold weather tomorrow.

3.  It may be time to remove the "maybe" from "maybe the Caps just suck."

4.  This morning, watching a bunch of stories on NFL free agency on SportsCenter, Middle asked "Why are they talking about football when football isn't even being playd?"  Why, indeed.

5.  Eldest got a reality check about 11 hours after the game.  The team and families went to Buffalo Wild Wings to celebrate the season.  We got home around 10 pm.  I dragged Eldest out of bed at 6:05 the next morning for swim practice.  Not much gets you back to reality from the euphoric high of a championship basketball game like waking up in the dark to go stare at the black line on the bottom of a pool for an hour and a half.


What to Watch For

1.  March Madness.  Maybe I'll post my Final Four picks.

2.  Championship swim meet for Eldest and Middle is just over a week away.

3.  Can UVA win only its second ACC Tournament in history?  Does anyone reading this care?

4.  Fat Old Man Update...coming eventually.