An Opening "Loss" that Wasn't...

Last night was a truly special night for CCSC and its fledgling hoops program. Stacked against MATCH, both teams were to play their first league games ever, at home (MIT), in front of their friends, families and teachers. This was what we had been working for hard for, this is what everyone wanted, the opportunity to play.
The week leading up to the games last night was filled with drama. An almost fight after the girl's practice, a theft, student-athlete progress reports due, detentions compiling; it was tense as prepared for this first real game, for our initiation into the charter school league that will serve as our home for the foreseeable future.
I went into the game attempting to have zero expectations, but simply could not. I knew that it was foolish of me to think of the what if's or the possibilities. Here we were, brand new, undersized, with not a player older than 16 heading into a varsity game, a varsity season (!), against players who were sure to be bigger and stronger and faster. I was worried about the psyche of our kids, the fact that things could get ugly quickly, that a bad loss would sting and make kids question whether or not we belonged, whether or not we could "hang" with these teams over the course of a long, cold, grueling season.
I met the kids at the gym fifteen minutes before tip off for the girls game and the excitement was palpable. As of course, was the tension and nervousness. We watched the first half of an incredible girls game. After falling behind earlier, a surge by CCSC tied the score at the half.
Our team went to the locker room to change, prepare, talk, focus.
The locker room scene was indescribable, though I feel compelled to attempt to do it justice. 15 players, ranging in size from tiny to developed, ranging in age from 12 to 16, putting on their uniforms for the first time. In order for the program to be scalable, and in order for our having to buy future uniforms for when kids grow and fill out, we have only Ls, XLs and XXLs. The two seventh grade students swam in their jerseys and shorts, so proud to be suiting up. And then the lotion festival began. Huge, costco-sized tubs of lotion emerging from bags, passed around, lathered on the skin to, I suppose, make sure player skin did not look dried out. Kids cracking jokes about each other, sharing this vital and valuable resource. And then it was time to huddle up, to focus, to review what we worked on, to talk about the game and expectations. The three coaches admitted to our being insanely jealous of these 7th, 8th, 9th and 10th graders who were not, could not be, fully appreciative of how special it is to participate in high school sports, to get the chance to compete, to play, to strive for something and work for something and show off how hard you've worked behind the scenes for friends and family. The nerves were overwhelming some and an air of seriousness, a seriousness of purpose, emerged. We did not know what to expect, but we were going to play our game and do our best and those kids heard, for the umpteenth time, how proud of them I was, I am, of what they have committed to and what many have done -- the habits that need breaking, the conceptions of "school" and "future" that need changing, the defensive slides, the running and sweating and those detention Georgia Tech's whenever a teammate gets in trouble. We walked down the long corridor and entered the gym to find that the bar had indeed been set high. What had been a 10-10 game at the half was now a no-contest victory for the CCSC girls who had exploded in the second half. We watched the last 45 seconds and I saw our boys, my boys, clap for the girls they practice next to daily, the girls they flirt with and spend time with and revile and love. I saw them show their own pride and appreciation for what those ladies had done in their first ever game.
And then we went into warm-ups and the energy began to rise. The gym was packed. MATCH had brought its cadre of volunteers, some teachers, parents, students. They were loud and seated on one half of the bleachers. CCSC had also rolled in deeply, with students, parents, the faculty, administrators and countless friends of all ages, there to watch the game. It was loud. It was exciting.
The game itself can be read about on the CCSC website. We led for almost the entire game, but never by much. We were better, more organized, more talented and balanced. They had two tremendous players who we could not stop. Other teams will have more where their two game from and we will have to learn to defend juniors and seniors who can shoot 3s consistently and slash to the hoop, seemingly at will. The game was organized, yet sloppy, in that way that those who love high school hoops appreciate. No one's game is polished. Students are diving on the floor, crashing into each other with vigor, passionate about the ends, but not quite sure about the means. CCSC dancers performed at the half and were, I did not see them as we were meeting, incredible, despite some technical difficulties. MATCH had four girls who put on an amazing stomp routine, to the pure delight of their fans, right before the beginning of the second half. Throughout the game, people were yelling, chanting, cheering. It was a truly special environment.
Some costly turnovers and myriad missed layups cost us the chance to put the game away and the opportunity to see the girls, and perhaps raise them, by winning. We lost at the buzzer, unable to convert on a play drawn up during the timeout huddle-up with 15 seconds on the clock. But the kids ran the play. Bayoan broke the press at half-court and moved the ball to Chuck. Chuck whipped the ball to the foul line where Jude, who, simply put, had a phenomenal CCSC debut (pouring in 20 points on pull-ups, drives to the basket, foul shots and a 3 or two while guarding their star). Jude turned, drove right, got a great look at the basket and went strong with the layup. Amazingly, and the tenacity with which these kids play, which they bring to games and practice sessions cannot be understated, he got his own board. He went up with three seconds on the clock, but missed again.
Jude was dejected after the game, but not for long. Some tears and lots of heads hanging low soon yielded to a lot of pride. They played as a team. They were better than their competition. They were better behaved, better sports, more professional. And they're so young, with so much potential. Geo and Michael, Wale and Chuck -- all with incalculable upsides and an appetite for this that is almost insatiable. And they listened. Throughout the game, every player focused and paid attention, ran to the bench during timeouts, rose to allow those playing to sit, formed tight semi-circles and listened to what I had to say, what I thought they needed to know. They cheered each other on, yelled at each other and shouted words of encouragement. I could not have been more proud of them. I only hope they realized that. Despite the loss, we emerged feeling good, feeling as though we belong, feeling as though the long, cold walk to practice and the abbreviated gym time won't do us in. We have arrived in this league and we are thrilled for the two months to come.
Yes, it would been nice to get a win. For the players, I feel, winning and losing is all there is. I am not sure when I began to appreciate good play, a good game, a hotly contested game, even if it resulted in a loss, was still a worthwhile and exciting endeavor of which one should strive to be a part. But for them, and they're young, a loss is a loss. A loss is having to face family and friends who expected a win. A loss is having to wait a week before we can play again. A loss is at least a week's worth of bragging rights for the girls team, sitting coolly on that 1-0 record. Despite all of that, however, in my years coaching and, for that matter, playing, I can unequivocally say: 0 - 1 never felt so good.
Thanks to all who came to support the team, and me. As our principal loves to say frequently, Onward!