Full of anxiety, I walked up to see the list of names on the
wall. Slowly I scanned the typical alphabetical
listing of girls names. Fall of fifth
grade and I realized I was cut from the cheerleading squad. Without hesitation, I packed my things and
walked across my elementary school parking lot feeling some sadness and
disappointment. Mostly because my best
friend made the team and I didn’t. The
first of things we wouldn’t do together.
I climbed the fire escape steps, opened the door and walked in. The smell of the old hardwood floor, the
squeak of shoes, the chatter of the coaches... this was where I needed to
be. This felt like home.
That fall, some 30 odd years ago, was the first time I
picked up a basketball, other than the occasional "unseasoned" ball handling in
the driveway. I was raw, I had no style,
my clothes didn’t match, but it didn’t matter. I had a chance to learn and play
a new game, one that I would watch on Saturday or Sunday afternoons, if NBC
carried the NBA Game of the Week. (Yes, this is before my family had cable tv
people!)
I worked hard. I
respected my coaches, even when they were exceptionally hard on me. Our team practiced right after the junior
high teams did. If I was lucky, my Mom
or Dad would drop us off early so we could watch the older teams practice. Us? Kerstin, my best friend -- She quit cheerleading because she wanted to
play basketball together. Even then, family and friends were making sacrifices
to support what I wanted to do. I was hooked. I had the best of both
worlds. I couldn’t get enough. Pick up
games at the playground, back yard battles or walking to Clark Rec when the weather wouldn’t allow
us to be outside. Sleepovers at my friend Star’s house so her dad could wake us up at 7am, slap Vaseline on
our faces and take us out running a few miles through the South Side of
Cleveland. (More commonly known as the
trendy Tremont neighborhood). After our runs, we would make our way to the
mecca of the near west side gyms. The Merrick
House. This is where you grew up in the
game. Anyone who is anyone from
Cleveland knows the competitive nature you learned at The Merrick House.
As I matured in the game, the one consistent thing I
developed was more than skill and IQ, it was the relationships I had with my
coaches. The first true coach I had was
Kerstin’s dad, Tom. Tom was rough,
aggressive and demanding. Tom had the
harsh reality words when you couldn’t dig a throw out at first base or the
sarcastic comments when you hit a pop fly to the catcher with runners in
scoring position. But you know what else
he had? Timing. Tom was the first person
to greet you when you hit your first home run; he practically ran the bases
with me. Tom taught me how to
fundamentally and systematically pick up pitches in the batter’s box. Tom taught me how to see things; the bigger
picture. He taught me no matter how big of a slump you are in, it only takes
one hit to get you out of it.
Toughness was ingrained in me from the beginning. I may not have started out very competitive,
considering Tom gave me the nickname “Hollywood” when I was 6, but as I
developed, there was no question I had something to prove. How fortunate was I to be coached by my friends’
parents? These men and women worked full
time jobs and volunteered their time to teach and empower young girls. Steve and Debbie coached me in various
sports, but none more important to me than basketball. We learned what a ‘run and gun’ style of play
meant and we were pretty good at it. We
had length, speed and athleticism, mixed with a ‘no nonsense, ‘my way or the
highway’ mentality. I learned how to
penetrate gaps, create seems to put my teammates in great positions to score,
and what being a ‘team’ really meant.
Steve and Debbie encouraged, coached each and every possession, and quickly
I realized how important the last player on our bench was to the team. Because Steve and Debbie made everyone feel
important. Sportsmanship above all
else. Each of us mattered.
Not only was I learning an incredible amount of information
about the game from my coaches, it was also reiterated at home from my parents,
grandparents, aunts and uncles. My
supporting cast was large, loud and full of love. The conversations after games with my dad
were some of my favorite memories of my youth.
He had this charismatic way of telling you the hard truths, how to
adjust or try something different, all while making you feel like you were the
most special person on the planet. I
wanted to do nothing more in life, than to impress him with my accomplishments. I have always been a “do-er, a pleaser” type
of person. I learned it from him.
High school brought tougher competition, a more rigorous schedule
and a new coaching staff that quickly became family. Hart and Jim took this little badass from
West 54th and pushed me beyond anything I thought I could do. They challenged me, irritated me, and helped
me grow into a leader. I learned how to
overcome adversity first when my dad passed away during freshman year, and
again when I tore my ACL shortly after transferring high schools. They continued to teach me to stand up for
what I believed in and how to motivate and rally others around me, even when I
was unable to play. They strengthened my
independent voice.
It was my high school coach, Jim, who gave me my first opportunity
to coach. I think back fondly on that first freshmen team. We were seven strong, constantly clawing and
fighting in each game. Each season
brought new and exciting challenges. Paul
taught me how to be ambitious and introduced me to winning at an entirely new
level. I invested in learning and growing as a young coach, but high school was
not enough. I needed more. We had a
local AAU club that was starting to grow and needed more female coaches. Coincidently I would see a coach from this
club conducting individual workouts with players at the Rec Center I worked
at. Andre introduced me to Doni and
Carlos and shortly after, Tucker. The
relationships I made coaching for SMAC will last a lifetime.
Not many remember the beginning, but I sure do. I remember the people who supported, cheered
and believed. I remember the ones that
didn’t as well. I remember the sacrifices, blowouts, the tears and the pain. But more importantly, I remember the teachable
moments, the milestones, the relationships…the joy coaching has brought to my
soul.
I have been fortunate to work with THE best coaches as a
head coach and as an assistant, each bringing something new to the table. Our staff
created and fostered a positive and successful culture at Midpark, one that
will forever be compared to. We loved what
we did and who we were doing it for and I am eternally grateful for Jim, Brian,
Charles, Brandon, Jeanne, Deb, Jen, Leah, Liz, Michelle and Richie.
Did you know I worked for The Worlds Best Boss? I even bought her a mug that said so. Katie gave me my first shot at coaching in
college. I know we worked a lot, but it
seemed like we laughed more. We built a
program together, constantly motivating each other and empowering one another,
and we did it with morals and integrity.
We learned to control what we could control and spend an immense amount
of time growing our minds. I truly learned
what servant leadership was and meant during this experience.
Just a kid from Cleveland – Who dreamt of coaching at Cleveland
State… and after hard work and persistence, the door opened. I have learned more about myself in the last
3 years than I ever thought possible. Kate,
Oties and Kevin were the seasoned veterans, and me – well, I was the high
strung rookie in Division 1. Our staff
grew to add, Kelly, Rachel K and Rachel G. My life is greatly enhanced because
of this staff. We learned about our
worth, wisdom and wholeness. We invented
new ways of being…and we loved being together.
As I reflect on how I fell in love with this game, I need to
talk about the ones I have always put ahead of everything else.. my girls. As a head coach, I would hug each player at the
beginning of the game. It was weird for
some at first, but it quickly became our staple. Anyone that knows me knows how
important each and every one of you are to me.
I would not have been afforded these opportunities without your
willingness to believe and trust in me.
I was not easy to play for, but I hope you learned at least one thing
from me. The harsh words were tough to swallow,
but I hope the celebrations, relationships and hugs made up for it. I hope you learned mental toughness, to
overcome adversity and to not take yourself too seriously. Maybe you learned to work hard, to push
yourself beyond any limitations you previously had. But most of all, I hope I motivated you to be
your best version of you, taught you about life and the importance of building relationships,
that it’s ok to show emotion, or empowered you to set the bar higher and higher
each time, to be a goal getter and just how much I valued each and every one of
you. Each of you keep me going and make
my heart smile.
To my family and friends, and countless others – Thank you
for rallying around me as a player and as a coach. You never allowed me to lose my way and stuck
by and waited, rescheduled and waited some more for me. Thank you for rolling with me!
A few years ago, I was asked to describe my life in a shape
and I confidently chose a circle. One continuous line, with no end. A circle is
symbolic of many things. A circle is
round, and so is a basketball. The
opportunities basketball has brought into my life are more than I ever
dreamed. I have seen many parts of the
world because of a basketball. I met my
husband because of basketball. The
circle I wear on my hand is symbolic of the never-ending love and commitment we
have made for each other through our wedding vows. Brian, by far, has seen me at my best and my
worst. He has been in the front row for
the breakdowns and his hands have lifted me right back up. No words could come close to expressing my
gratitude for his presence in my life. I thank God every single night for the
true blessing Brian is to me. I couldn’t
have picked a better partner and teammate to share my life with. And as the tables turn, I look forward to
supporting him the way he has supported me.
“When you have your chance to stand at the top, don’t forget
to look around and enjoy the view.” One of our Midpark Meteors’ Dad, Bill, shared
this with me after a totally embarrassing loss.
I carry this quote with me each day – and as this 19 year long coaching chapter comes to a
close, I look back with a smile and rejoice in how far I have come.
