Many moons ago, when I coached high school basketball, I spent summers working basketball camps at colleges and universities. It was a nice paycheck for a week or two spent doing something I enjoyed doing and working with kids from elementary age through high school. I did it, not only for the extra pay, but because I learned from the coaches I worked with, as well as from the kids I coached. I got to work with Dick Bennett, Bo Ryan, and Tom Asbury, just to name a few. Many of the coaches were like me, high school and college coaches helping kids learn the skills to put them in position to make a difference for their respective teams.
One summer working at the Wisconsin Badgers Basketball Camp, I coached middle school boys and on my “team” were two kids, Chris and Andy. Same drive. Almost the same height, though Andy was a tad smaller and skinnier. But both had the same drive and intensity.
As was my custom, I would grab a quick lunch and then head to the gym to work with any kid wanting to spend some extra time on their game. Usually, it was shooting, and usually, it involved up to a dozen kids, more or less, and some would be from other age groups. I enjoyed it because I felt I could help the kids.
Chris was a lefty- and I mean a lefty. He had no right hand to speak of. Ask him to move to his right, he would use his left hand instead of “naturally” using his right. It was a struggle that week. But all in all, he was a terrific little player, with talent that was much untapped.
Andy, as I said, was smaller, built a little differently. He didn’t have the strength Chris had, but he could and did use both hands effectively. Andy had a nice first step to the basket and was an eager listener and learner. Andy also had the same drive.
It was about midweek when we went to the gym and I noticed Andy sitting against the wall by himself as I worked with the other kids who were there. He was watching Chris intently, but Chris didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, Chris just minded his own business.
I sat down next to Andy and said something like, “What’s up? You seem down.”
Andy lowered his head and when he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. He said, “I’m not as good as Chris.” My response was, “Yet.”
He looked up at me, puzzled by my comment. I said, “Watch Chris closely. What do you see?”
He watched for a moment or two and his first response was, “He’s bigger, stronger, faster, and he has a better shot.”
I said, “Look more closely. What do you see? If you played against him, how would you guard him?”
He watched again, frowning, and said, “I’d take away his left hand and force him to his right.”
I smiled and said, “How would he guard you?”
He shrugged and tears filled his eyes and said nothing.
I said, “What’s wrong?”
“He’s better than me.”
I put my arm around his shoulders and said, “For now.” After a bit, I said, “In time, you’re going to get stronger, faster, and quicker. I’m interested to see what happens next year when you and I come back to camp. I’m interested to see how much you improve, that is, if you want it bad enough.” He assured me he did.
Throughout the week, the kids and I kept working on their game, but I took a little more time and put in a little more effort with Andy. By the end of the week, his improvement was noticeable to the other kids and the other coaches. No, Andy didn’t grow two feet taller, and he didn’t suddenly make three-point shots (we didn’t have them in those days, anyway), but he improved. And Andy was no longer the quiet kid down on himself, either.
On the last day, when parents came to pick up their kids, Andy wanted me to meet his mom, and I was happy to do so. He was proud of his evaluation from me. I noted his improvement, his effort, and his intensity. I gave him some “homework” for the rest of the summer. And, he asked for my address and phone number. I normally didn’t give those out to campers, but I did for Andy.
The next week, I received a thank you card from him. Sometime later, he called “just to say hello.” We talked some and before I said goodbye, and I invited him to one of my team’s games when basketball starts in the fall.
Over time, Andy came to several games, and I traveled to watch him play. I ate dinner with him and his parents, and we went to a Badger game or two together.
Fast forward to high school. Andy became a star on his team. A captain and a leader. He wasn’t flashy and both of us knew he wouldn’t play college ball since he was on the short side.
He called me one night during his high school years and told me his father had died. Andy was the one who had found him dead from a massive heart attack. We talked long that night, and I went to his father’s wake and funeral. We stayed in touch for a long time, but sadly, like many friends and acquaintances, we drifted apart.
I never knew what became of Chris. After camp that one summer, I never saw him again.
I learned much later that Andy is in the finance world, married with two girls of his own. Maybe he has another child or two. I don’t know. I know, however, he ended up being a better golfer than a basketball player. Good for him. He was able to carve out his own niche.
I don’t think I had much to do with his success. As I wrote earlier, he had the drive, intensity, and the “want to improve” attitude. All I did was show interest in him and encourage him. I guess that was enough.
All of us, kids and adults, need to have hope. All of us need encouragement, someone to point us in the right direction, maybe even give us a little shove to get us started. So much good can come from a smile, an arm around a shoulder, a pat on the back, and a kind word. We need more of that in the world, don’t you think? Something to think about …
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Here is the cover of my newest book, Black Yéʼii (The Evil One).
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The secret of how four members of MS-13 died was supposed to keep them safe. That is, if no one spoke of it. But someone did, and now people are dying.
Can Detectives Graff, O’Connor, and Eiselmann
find the killers and put a stop to the killing before anyone else dies?
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Photo of the little boy courtesy of Vitolda Klein and Unsplash
