An Athlete Finds Himself

Yesterday, from the scorers' table in the small gym at Montgomery Bell Academy, I saw something I will never forget.  Cooper, one of J.P.'s buddies, played the basketball game of his life and thankfully, I was along for the ride.

I've known Cooper since he was 5 years old, ever since he and J.P. started playing baseball and basketball together.  The boys are tight and have slept over or played at each other's houses many times.  Cooper's parents are close friends of ours.  Our families just seem to fit well together.  We love spending time with them.

Cooper is a good athlete who will become a great athlete as he gets older, I think.  He's an excellent soccer player and a good baseball and basketball player.  He's also a born leader with the maybe the best attitude, game in and game out, of any boys I have coached.  He's almost always enthusiastic and in a good mood.  He's very coachable and rarely has to be told the same thing twice.  In basketball, he plays guard, usually the point.  His only weakness - if I can even call it that - is that he hasn't yet developed a killer instinct.  He's such a good natured kid that he doesn't always play with intensity.

That all changed yesterday.

Early in the second game of a doubleheader against a pretty team, Cooper was whistled for his second foul.  He didn't like the call at all.  In fact, Cooper was really pissed about it.  From my vantage point at the scorer's table, I saw the expression on his face change from confusion and disagreement to anger.  And I loved it.

As the game resumed, Cooper began playing like a man possessed.  He contested every pass anywhere near him, stealing the basketball on multiple occasions.  He played more aggressively offensively and defensively than I have ever seen him play.  He pushed the ball up the court and set the pace.  He rebounded.  He was an absolute handful on defense, frustrating their players (and coach) at every turn.

When his dad substituted for him, Cooper cheered his teammates on the from the bench, loudly.  As is usually the case, the other boys followed his lead and began cheering wildly when a teammate made a good defensive play or tied up a loose ball.  Watching Cooper on the sideline, I could see that he couldn't wait to get back into the game.

This continued through the second quarter and for the entire second half.  Our boys won handily, beating the other team by 25 + points.  It was by the far the most complete basketball game our boys have ever played, offensively and defensively.  Why?  Because they followed the example Cooper set from the midpoint of the first quarter to the end of the game.  He lead by example and with his enthusiasm.  It was a sight to see.  It was basketball played beautifully by a bunch of 9 and 10 year old boys.

At one point late in the game, Cooper was harassing the other team's best player as he dribbled the basketball and got called for his fourth foul.  Their coach complained - loudly - saying "how many fouls does that kid get?"  It was awesome.

After the game, as is my custom, I read the stat line to the boys, focusing on rebounds, steals and assists.  I asked the group how many points they thought Cooper had scored.  Looking intently at them all, I said "zero."  I paused.  "And he completely dominated the game," I continued.  Because he did.

Truthfully, it was a bit of an emotional moment for me.  I've spend so much time around Cooper (and his family) and he's one of my all-time favorite kids to coach.  Having a front row seat to his greatest basketball game - probably his greatest game in any sport - was special.  Seeing the transformation that took place and realizing that he has it in him to get angry and dominate a game like that was also special.

It's something I'll never forget and, hopefully, a memory I'll share with him many years down the road.