I went and spouted off at the wrong time to the wrong person…. And as a result I am running a basketball developmental clinic for girls.
Fifty years ago, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Then, I knew exactly how to play with and against ANYONE at the town courts; how to coach an all-girls middle school team to victory in the town league; how to box out and rebound. Which is why it is so frustrating for me watching young girls play basketball now.
This winter, I was asked to drop off my grandson at a “Triple Threat Basketball” program in Keene. I was a wise ass and asked the person at the door what the three threats in basketball were. To me, the weapons in the arsenal of basketball would be rebounding, fast breaks/lay-ups, passing, defending and shooting. Oops, that’s five.
It certainly annoyed me that rebounding didn’t make the top three in this Triple Threat Program. My grandson got an earful on the way home.
“Do you know how many shots go in out of all the shots taken?” I demanded.
Before he could answer, I said, “Even at the highest level of basketball, HALF of the shots will not go in.”
“Do you know the BEST way to get the ball? Be ready for those misses! Get in position for rebounds.”
To my amazement, this lecture didn’t go completely unheeded. Months later, in the last game of his round robin tournament in his 5th grade league, the grandson made three baskets. Six points out of the team’s total 12 points, which led them to a big W.
“Did you see my baskets?” he asked after the game. As if there were any chance in the world I had not. “They were all from rebounds!” he exclaimed.
Darn if I didn’t feel like my brain full of encyclopedic basketball knowledge didn’t suddenly have purpose.
Now, I will try to make the same points to 15 girls whom I expect to see unleash their enthusiasm, discover their talents and develop their potential… in basketball.
So that they can then go forth in life with the confidence and drive of basketball players.
Well, the four weeks have come and gone and I did my best to impart everything I know about a sport to 14 girls in grades 3-8. They were attentive. They learned. They left with certificates to remind them what we had done.
Two moms were recruited from the stands to join my co-coach Fred and me. These moms had game. I am disappointed that I couldn’t suddenly jump 14 vertical inches again and show the kids my turnaround jump shot. Was it the two knee replacements or the spinal fusion or the 70 years that prevented me from being able to jump? It was very frustrating. I underestimated how important jumping was to my shot. So I consistently demonstrated how to miss shots while the kids got better and better at making them.
We had good lesson plans for each clinic and built on skills each week. The curriculum was a combination of drills I had learned in high school, college and rec league plus what I learned assisting Dan Murray and Kevin Klump with clinics in Milford. We used every minute and could have used many, many more minutes.
The last week I told the kids about Dan Murray, my Milford high school classmate who played on the state championship boys team while I played on the state runners-up girls team. He stayed close to Milford and won other state championship titles. He is a legend. I had a picture of Dan on the sign at each of our clinics. His demonstration of the goose neck follow-through, surrounded by small kids. Dan thought if I helped with his clinics, the girls could see a grown-up female basketball player. I was honored. I was also honored to talk about him and to walk in his footsteps for these four weeks.
I didn’t talk about my own basketball history much until week 4. I shared the one picture I have of myself on the court at Bucknell, which showed my vertical jump. I told about how I became an 83% free throw shooter—an example of making a great weakness into a strength. My message was clear: if I could do it, they can do it—and I expect them to try. The clinic closed with the girls lining up for handshakes, a ritual we did at the end of each night. The “Look ’em in the eye and command respect” handshake.
And with that, they went forth.
Each night the kids signed in and got their name tags. Not sure how many of them saw Dan Murray’s photo on the sign but he was there every week. The legend lives on.