16 years...

Basketball season is over for everyone I know. The Mount played their final game against Bluffton, my brother's high school team finished their season with a sectional loss on Saturday, my former high school team finished their season Friday as sectional runners-up ((which hasn't been done in probably 10 years... :o) so good job ladies)) and basketball season is over for me. For good? I'm not sure yet. I've had 16 good years of playing. I can remember all the way back to my first days on a recreational team with 11 clumsy, little 5-year olds eager to go and run up and down a court even though none of us fully understood the game or had the strength to consistently make a jump shot. When one of us did score, every parent in the gym cheered, even the parents of the other team. And I can remember as I got older (and taller), my dad would work with me in the driveway. For some reason, I can remember this odd, purple and green windsuit that I wore out there all the time to practice and shoot in. My dad and I would play "p-i-g" and 'around the world' for hours and even though at the time, I didn't see any difference in my game, others did. By the time I was 12, I can remember my last year of rec basketball, playing on a team with girls I had played with for the last 4 or 5 years. We had never been very good. I can remember the coach never taking me out of the game because I was 5'10" in the sixth grade and every play revolved around me either rebounding someone's missed shot or them throwing the ball up to me, catching it, and putting it in the basket. We won the Metro recreational championship that year which as I looked back on it was remarkable because for years, our team struggled to even win 2 or 3 games a season and now, we had won a championship and little trophies to go along with it. I think thats when I realized I had gotten better, that all the times I spent in the driveway with my dad really meant something, and that maybe I had actually gotten better. I wouldn't ever play with these girls again. The following year, we entered junior high and with one school team, I was the only girl on that recreational team that made it. I realize now that I might not have made that team if it wasn't for the help of those clumsy 5-year olds I played with who kept the game fun and exciting and the parents who cheered with every scored basket when we won games by a final score of 10-12. I realize I might not have made that junior high team without those recreational teammates who I celebrated with by going to UDF for ice cream after a victory. They made basketball fun and enjoyable. I can remember most of the girls I played with: Niki, Olivia, Whitney, Ashley, Amber, Becky, Alex, Annie and Coach Bob. They were my best friends growing up and they kept basketball what it should be: fun. It wasn't full of pressure; the yelling parents (back then) were funny and a normal part of the game, we practiced one day a week and played one game on Sundays. Basketball was the funnest part of my life but it didn't consume my life. I can't say the same thing now for the last few years of my basketball career. I feel like I've let basketball consume me. It was the only thing I worried about, thought about, dreamt about. The t-shirt that says "Basketball is Life. The rest is just details"... I own it and I lived it. In the sixth grade, basketball practice was the highlight of the week. I would come home from school and couldn't stop talking about basketball practice and getting ready to go and when my dad and I came home from practice, I couldn't stop thinking about it and playing my game on Sunday, but as the week wore on, I would focus on school, Sarah's birthday party on Saturday, homework, playing with my brother. Life didn't revolve around basketball; basketball was a part of life. And I loved it. As time has gone on, the way I look at basketball has changed. In high school, especially by my junior and senior year, everything centered on college basketball. Visiting schools, getting recruited, getting good test scores, playing well, sending out schedules and talking to coaches. Still, in high school, I can say that my happiest times were always on the hardwood. I can remember games as a freshman when I felt so privileged to be announced as the starting varsity center and I can remember my mom and dad so excited when I came home to tell them I was the only freshman to make varsity. I can remember games my sophomore season when we didn't win very many games, but I loved my teammates and my coaches. I can remember senior night that year when I spent hours decorating for my three best friends and cried my eyes out when they walked in, hugging and thanking me. I can remember my junior and senior years as a captain and hearing my name announced would electrify me. And I can remember my senior year when my dad was in the hospital and I had a big game. I didn't know whether or not to play that night, but I visited my dad in the hospital and I'll never forget him saying to me that my team needed me to win and that he wanted me to be there because he didn't know any place that I would be happier. And as much as I didn't want to leave his side, I went to my basketball game. What was probably the most surreal basketball game I've ever played in, I couldn't look back on it and tell you any specific plays or shots I made or any rebounds I got. Every time the game stopped, it was like I could hear my dad in my ear telling me to keep going and coming out of a timeout, I remember seeing him in his hospital bed. I didn't know until the next day that I had set a career high in points and rebounds because that night, that court was more than just an arena for competition. It was a place of peace. It was a place where I felt at home and I felt safe even when so many things felt like they were crumbling outside of it. It was my domain where I felt in control when so many things weren't. When everything else was out of my hands, a basketball seemed to fit into them perfectly. That's when basketball became more than a game or an activity for me. It became my solace. I found something I never had that year with basketball and it was the greatest year I've ever had. It was filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, but I gained and learned more that year than I ever have in my life. I think since college basketball began for me, I've lost sight of that. When I entered college, basketball began to feel like an obligation, a duty. The morning regimens, mile runs, the coordinated meals, coordinated outfits. The politics of the team, power struggles within it, and the win/loss column seemed to consume our minds and somewhere in the last 3 years, I've lost the peace, comfort and solace I once found on the basketball court. The joy is gone. And it saddens me. I love basketball. I can go to the gym with my ipod blasting in my ears and shoot for hours. It's probably the most relaxing, calming, meditative thing I know of. I think about my worries, my fears, my angers. I run, I jump, I shoot and everything else seems to melt away. The longer I'm in the gym, the more I feel alive and in love with basketball. Is basketball season over me? Yes, my playing days may be over, but my love and passion of basketball is not and I want to give as much of that passion and experience to others as I can. After 16 years of playing the game, I want to begin teaching it. Coaching it. Making other young girls feel the same passion, peace and solace within the game that I did. I want girls to look back as they get older and not say that Coach Smith made them better basketball players (which I am confident that I will do) but that they'll see what's really important is what they gained mentally and emotionally. I want my players to feel like I taught them life's most important lessons: the same ones that I found in my years on the basketball court and I hope that they carry on the love for the game for generations to come.