Saturday afternoon, I watched Joe's Stars' team play a basketball tournament game at Legacy Courts in Franklin that I'll remember for a long time, maybe forever.
It was an up and down the court game unlike any basketball game I've ever seen 12 and 13 year olds play. It wasn't that the defense on either team was necessarily poor. Rather, the shot making for both teams, especially 3 pointers, was outstanding. Joe's team was a bit overmatched size wise but they made up for it by hitting 3 pointer after 3 pointer. They actually led 36-30 halftime, in large part because of how well Joe's second unit played, before falling in the end by a score of 79-67.
79-67! Sixth grade basketball. Incredible! But for the other team adding "Johnny Rostercheck" - a player wearing a t-shirt with a taped on number - Joe's team might have won.
It was the kind of game where, on multiple occasions, our team's parents looked at each other, shaking their heads. A couple of times, I looked at Amy (Douglas's mom), sitting beside me, and said, incredulously, "What is happening!?!" It was that kind of game for our boys.
It was a game where everything seemed to come together. The practices, the lessons, the discussions, the earlier games this season, several of which were blowout losses to bigger, older, more talented teams. The boys shared the basketball, almost always making the extra pass to find an open man. The boys trusted in each other and believed in each other, which was evident in the unselfish way they played. They played as a TEAM, no easy task when they've only been together for the winter/spring season.
All of this, of course, is a tribute to their coach, Jered Street. He's the head basketball coach at Page High School. In a few short months, he's imparted more basketball knowledge in these boys than any of them have gotten their entire lives. I know that's true for Joe and I suspect it's true for all of his teammates.
I marvel at what Coach Street has accomplished with these boys. He's taken an undersized, moderately talented, hustling group of sixth graders and turned them in to a basketball team in the truest sense of the term. They believe in him wholeheartedly. On multiple occasions after games, Joe has said to me, laughing and shaking his head, that in the huddle, "Coach Street drew up a play, told us where to be and where to go, and that we would get a wide open bucket, and that's exactly what happened!" Off a diagram on his clipboard, no less.
At times this spring, especially early on, Jude and I wondered if we had inadvertently over scheduled Joe as it relates to sports. Jude bore the brunt of having to pick up Joe from USN baseball practice at the River Campus, then drive him down to Page High School for practice. On top of that, Joe missed some Stars' practices because of a conflict with Armada club soccer practices. Still, the effort was worth it, because Joe has learned so much about basketball from Coach Street. More importantly, playing for Coach Street has increased Joe's love of basketball exponentially.
Because it's almost a footnote to how much I enjoyed watching Joe's team play Saturday afternoon - play and compete - Joe played the best basketball game of his life. He scored ten points, only turned the ball over once late win the game, defended, rebounded, and ran the offense with confidence and precision. He handled the ball with a sense of purpose and always made the right pass. His buckets were a result of him pump faking and driving into the paint or cutting to an open space on the baseline, receiving a pass, and hitting a jumper.
In the second half, he got a bigger boy off his feet with a pump fake, drove the right baseline into the paint, and finger rolled a layup into the cup. I was astonished because I had not idea that Joe had that movie in his bag. Immediately, I texted JP, and said, "Joe be like Kyrie."
And for one play on one Saturday afternoon, Joe was like Kyrie Irving.
What a basketball game. What a spring basketball season for Joe.
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