When I was a kid, I played a lot of different sports. Lots of time was spent following my sisters around to their various activities before being old enough to participate myself - track meets, cross country meets, volleyball games, and basketball games. Kickball and softball after school with my neighborhood friends were preferred activities. Swimming lessons, softball, canoeing, and floor hockey were all on my summer agenda.
Then I was able to start some organized sports myself and became a three sport athlete in high school. Cross country and track and field took up the fall and spring, but I fell in love with basketball. I am competitive and stubborn and that bodes well for a team sport where you need those characteristics in addition to individual skills. Plus, it helped to have teammates who were equally as competitive to share the burden of wanting the win.
High school basketball was challenging. My varsity coach was a real student of the game, he broke everything down for us and made us become students of the game as well. He was tough, demanding, and detailed. We lost in the region finals my senior year and that remains one of my greatest disappointments.
By the time I graduated from high school, I still enjoyed coaching but decided that it would be hard to do when I became a rich and famous actress or newscaster. Instead, I continued to pursue playing basketball and went on to play for 3 years in college.
The first year I played junior varsity. It was awesome, exhausting, and glorious. My sophomore season arrived and I was hopeful to see some varsity time. Unfortunately, I came back that fall and was still skinny and hadn’t grown four inches and hadn’t put in the time in the off season. A little tongue in cheek, but it helps to joke about it, because my sitting the bench for a few games and then moving back to junior varsity was painful for me, but quite a learning experience. I lacked commitment about half way through the season and basically checked out. My decision was to make it through the season and then be done.
So, that’s what I did. And when my second head coach in 2 years called me into his office to tell me that he wanted me to continue on and sit the bench with the tournament team, I said, “No.” I informed him that I was planning on going with my dad and stepmom on spring break to see my sister in Florida. My basketball career had run its course. I was done.
For the next year, I avoided the field house at all costs. Except, of course, to watch my new boyfriend (now husband) play. Then, I got the itch to play again and started to train and workout and put out feelers to see if I would be welcomed back. It was tough, but we were on the 3rd head coach in four years by that time. He had been an assistant and now was the head coach. I decided to go for it, told my student teaching supervisor (who was not pleased) and told the coaches I was ready to give it my all.
And I did. I played my heart out. I did all my skinny and still 5-10 body could do. I was 6th or 7th person and played well in the first tournament in California. There, I scored in the first two games and then was relegated to the bench. Not just for the remainder of the tournament, but pretty much the remainder of the season. I was called into the coach’s office to be informed that they were going with a younger, more talented player, who had more potential for growth than me. I understood, kind of, though that didn’t stop the hurting and disappointment. But, through challenges and discomfort, growth occurs. Regardless of what anyone says, adversity doesn’t just reveal character. Adversity forces you to build your character.
After that meeting in the coach’s office, I played pretty badly in practice. I played to not make mistakes instead of just playing hard. So, mistakes happened. Strong? No. Ball Handler? No. Tall enough inside? No. Tough? Occasionally. Useful elbows? Yes. But, in the scheme of things, that’s not much. My lack of ball handling and good passing skills limited where my coaches could play me, no matter how hard I worked in practice. And worse than that, my attitude plummeted. I would love to say that I immediately understood my role and became a positive role model. Nope. Instead, I pouted, flounced around, and was generally unsupportive.
My poor attitude during those weeks may have negatively affected my teammates. There came to be a cross roads. My love for the sport remained, but I didn’t love the player I became when I allowed my disappointment take over. What could I do? I wasn’t going to play. I couldn’t make the game winning basket. I would never start. This was it. Fish or cut bait, as they say. Well, cutting bait was more painful than fishing and not catching anything. So, I made a decision. Let go of my disappointment and anger, and embrace the new things I could learn and take with me at the close of this season of my life. I tried to become the best water girl I could be.
Finally, I began to see the game as a coach, and not a player. When my teammates were frustrated with shooting lulls or weren’t sure how to defend, I became (or tried to become) a teacher on the bench. The learning that took place from the bench far outweighed any learning I had ever done on the court. The emotional side of the game and the mental toughness needed to be successful became my area of passion.
Every team, unless they win the national championship, ends in a loss. Our team was no different. We lost in a packed house to Bethel by four points, 65-61. The clock quit working in the second half and there was no shot clock, so we had people manually counting down. At one point in the game, while yelling encouragement to my teammates, the crowd yelled, “Sit down Blondie,” to me. That’s my claim to fame for that game. During my senior season, we were 18-8 overall and 16-4 in the conference.
And my stats? Not overly impressive.
16 games played 3.3 PPG 1.9 RPG 49 points 28 rebounds 18-46 FG 39% 13-19 FT 68% 0-1 3 pters 1 assist 3 steals
Looking back, I was actually pretty surprised that I actually checked in to 16 games. To me, it felt like I never played. Granted, the last 2 minutes of a game still counts as a check in. My favorite game came at St. Olaf, where I got to play the last 8 minutes and had something like 8 points and 5 rebounds.
My time on the bench was exceedingly valuable. Perspective is something that can only be gained through direct experience. Prior to college, I had spent almost every minute of every game on the court, playing. My only perspective was that of the role of the player, not of the player on the bench. Following my college experience, now I knew how it felt to be relegated to a role that I didn’t want and couldn’t possibly embrace until it was my only choice.
At our end of season banquet, I got a gift. And it wasn’t just perspective. It was a letter jacket. This was something to be earned by a college player. Not only that, but I also got the senior plaque, even though I had only played three years. My coach talked about my contributions as a bench player and awarded me “most inspirational player.” From where I sit now, having coached various sports for 20 years, I know I was difficult in a very moody and passive-aggressive way and feel very undeserving of that award. I think about that season of experience often and the lessons it taught me. When I was still coaching basketball, I could draw upon that gift of disappointment and empathize with my players who were feeling the same emotions that I had felt, sitting on the bench.
Then, I was disappointed and frustrated. Now, I am grateful. The lessons learned have made me a better coach and hopefully, I have been able to help players embrace their role on the team, even if it isn’t one that they would ever choose on their own.
