How Far I Have Come

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 54^th 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.