Friday, March 2, 2018

The Time of Our Lives

In the fall of 1996, I embarked on adventure.  On a long and winding road, on the way to nowhere, in the town of Philippi, West Virginia, is the site of the first land battle of the Civil War.  There, in Philippi, atop a hill on the outskirts of the Appalachian Mountains, sits a college named Alderson-Broaddus.  This college is where I called home for three years. 

After playing basketball at the junior college level for two years, I had earned a scholarship to play another two years at this Division II College.  While my parents were unsure about leaving me at a school, eight hours from home, in a town that had little more than a grocery store, a bank, a gas station, and a bar, I had no doubts.  I mean, there were mountains and a beautiful river and so many places to explore, and there was basketball.  What more could I want?

When I had visited A-B at the end of my final semester of junior college, I was a big girl.  You know how people talk about gaining that "Freshman 15"?  Well, in my two years, that Freshman 15 had turned into more like 50 pounds.  So when my new coach, Coach Mair,  had seen me last, I was a heavy power forward-looking player.  That summer, I worked at the Flint V-8 Engine Plant on the assembly line, building pistons.  My regular shift was second shift, but most days I'd work half of the first shift, all of my shift, and then half of third shift.  I was summer help, there to relieve the full time workers so they could take vacation time, and I had nothing to do but work.  That, combined with sweating my butt off in the steamy plant on 90-100 degree days literally made me sweat my butt off.  By the time I showed up on campus that fall, I had gone from 188 pounds down to 140.  Her power forward was now tall and thin with a lot less "power" and when I came to meet her that first day, Coach didn't recognize me.  I promised her I would not disappoint.

And then, we started.  There were 10 of us.  We came from West Virginia, Ohio, Virginia, Michigan and Indiana.  We were daughters, sisters, cousins, girlfriends and we were teammates.  We practiced early in the mornings, before class and we practiced again after dinner.  We shared dorm rooms and borrowed each others' cars and we were a family.  We'd drive to Eat 'N' Park at midnight on a whim, or we'd hurry down the hill to Sheetz for 2am coney dogs and pepperoni rolls and then STRUGGLE through  6am practice.  But man, were those days fun.  We worked hard in class and on the court and we played hard. 





Game time was GO time.  We had our music and our rituals and our chants and we knew what to do.  Our point guard, Quita, was amazing.  Our favorite play was an out-of-bounds play where I'd take out the ball, yell, "BREAK", and she would fake towards me and then turn around and sprint all the way down the court, where I'd have a baseball pass sitting out in front of her for an easy lay-up. 


That first year, we were given the news that we were not going to be able to go home for Christmas.  Really?  Instead, we'd be practicing and then heading to Albany, New York for a holiday tournament.  Afterwards, Coach planned a couple days for us in New York City, where we stood in Times Square in the freezing cold for eight hours, waiting for that ball to drop and ring in the New Year of 1997, and had the time of our lives. 




At the end of our first season together, we said goodbye to two graduating seniors, and another who transferred elsewhere.  We had had a decent season and we were making plans for the next year, which would be my last.  Coach had some new recruits on board and after a short summer, we were back at it in the fall of 1997.  We lived and breathed basketball. Practices were more intense, curfews were more strict, and you did NOT miss a class for any reason.  That year, we had the season dreams are made of.  We had come to win, and we did.  Our team of 12 went undefeated in conference play, and we earned the right to host a part of the Division II National Tournament at our little college.  In the end, we finished just one game short of the Sweet 16.  Quita had been named Player of the Year in our conference and Coach Mair was named Coach of the Year.




That night, we each took turns cutting down the net to celebrate our season with the best record in our school's history. 


And then it was over.  Some of the girls graduated that year, some continued on with their careers, and I finished up my degree with an internship at the V.A. hospital in a neighboring city.  In 1999, I graduated from Alderson-Broaddus and said goodbye to my friends and the mountains and the place I had called home.

***

Two weeks ago, I went back.  In fact, six of us went back, along with Coach.  We had been invited back to celebrate the 20th anniversary of our championship season.  And it was almost as if no time had passed.  We hugged and laughed and passed around pictures of our kids.  We reminisced about those late nights and early mornings long ago, along with that epic out-of-bounds play we had. 





The time we spent together went by in a flash, but we got what we needed-a chance to reconnect and a chance to feel young again.  Young like those girls we once were. 


I couldn't have chosen a better group of women to share the floor with.  We were all who we needed to be for each other.  We are still those daughters and sisters and cousins and teammates, but now?  Now we also mothers and wives and aunties and teachers and professionals and coaches.  We have the chance to encourage a new generation to chase their dreams and build solid foundations. 


In the years since we have been gone, Coach Mair and Quita were both inducted into the Battler Hall of Fame.  And in true Quita fashion, she said she'd never have made it there without all of us with her every step of the way. 


Two weeks ago, we walked out onto center court of our old stomping grounds and looked up into the stands one more time. 


I didn't know that when I first took a drive down that narrow two lane road that leads to a little college on a hill, it would lead to all of this.  I didn't know that hot dogs at 2am and huddling in a freezing cold circle in Times Square would ever mean so much.  I didn't know that endless hours of practices with my teams and after practices with my dad and practicing alone in my driveway would have such a huge reward.  Coach Mair might have thought she was building a team, but she ended up building a family.  We are a family that has stood the test of time, and I am a better person for having them.




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