By: Dylan Gandee

I remember the day like it was yesterday: It was the 7th grade: the final of the KAPRB basketball league was just an hour away.

When I arrived at the Kennett High School gym for the final game,  I distinctly remember the insane amount of butterflies that were flying around in my stomach; I was so nervous. I also remember the small windows that were at the top of the gym, allowing small rays of sunlight to pour through, providing just enough light for our warm-ups.

At this time in my basketball progression, my offensive skill was greatly lacking, but I still had to warm up my shot just in case an offensive opportunity presented itself. Our warm-up flew by fast, and it was time to quickly have a team huddle before the game starts.

We were playing the best team in the league, not to mention that they had the two tallest players in the league by far. We had to get rebounds and play great defense, and planned on using a 1-3-1 defensive setup to do so. Our offensive stars had to get points, and everyone else had to support them, follow the plays, and play great defense, especially against their massive players.

3, 2, 1… tip-off has begun.

I don’t recall exactly which team won the tip-off, but regardless, it was a good, fast-paced game. The game was very close, with both teams trading points and exchanging leads.

My personal goal was not to score, though, it was to play great defense and get rebounds. I could feel my heart pumping and my hands shaking; my nerves got the best of me. My defense was not good enough to defend their tall players. I remember when I got subbed out, my coach was telling me how I needed to play a lot better defensively, telling me to keep my hands far up and far stretched the whole time, in order to limit the opponent’s moves and force them to take a bad shot.

When I subbed back in, I took the advice of my coach, and I felt that my improved defense had an immediate effect on our team’s performance.

I remember one instance where I was guarding one of the opponent’s tall, lanky players, who seemed to resemble a giraffe, towering over me. He had possession of the ball, but not for long, as I remember quickly dancing around him,stealing the ball and passing it to one of my teammates, which got my blood flowing.

The game was still extremely close, but in the third quarter, something happened that changed the tides of our game, turning the game against us: our best player was bashed in the throat. When it happened, we all immediately took a time out, and had to to talk about what we would do without our star player being able to play.

We put every last drop of our blood, sweat, and tears into the game after that, but for every point we scored, they scored two. For every rebound we got, they seemed to get three. The two colossal beasts on the enemy team seemed to tower us.

It was the 4th quarter, with a minute to spare, and we were down by six. We had to make a shot, preferably a three pointer. Our point guard slowly dribbled up the court, and after a few seconds, passed it to our shooting guard. Time seemed to stop, as I watched the ball leave my teammate’s fingertips. Tension rose, as I saw the ball fly through the air. It seemed be an eternity before the ball got even remotely close to the hoop. Eventually, it reached the hoop, but it did not go how we had planned. The ball bounced on the surface of the glistening, cherry red rim, and landed right into the palms of the enemy team.

I felt my stomach drop, but I knew I had to run back to play defense, so I didn’t even have time to process what had happened. As I was running back to defense, their point guard passed it to their tallest player, who ran into the paint and simply overpowered us, scoring an easy layup.

Immediately after that layup, a wave of disappointment gloomed over all of our heads. We all knew that we could’ve won that game, but now it was impossible.

It was our ball, less than a minute left, and we were down by eight. We knew there was no way we could win. The rest of the game (the couple of seconds that were left) didn’t matter, because we had lost. We got second place.

We walked over to the bench, disappointment and anger filled our faces. Our team talked about the loss, but none of us really wanted to talk after that. After our brief, reluctant talk, all of us just left in silence.

A fire burned in me after that loss, though. I was eager to become a better basketball player. I wanted to improve on my offense greatly, and I also wanted to become a better all-around player.

The loss also taught me the importance of teamwork and determination. When our star player was injured, we all had to work together in an effective way every single second of that game. When I went back into the game and improved on my defense immensely, it showed the important of determination.

Although we got second place, the loss taught me so many important lessons and traits that I should pick up and polish. It also pushed me to try my hardest to become a better basketball player.