Basketball......Player

(1st basketball team in 5th grade.  That's me 4th from the right)

There was a basketball goal in the front of the school, in the parking lot.  That parking lot is where we used to have 4th grade recess.  We did all kinds of things, mostly kicking a ball back and forth and trying to catch it, or playing basketball on that goal.  We were playing one day when a classmate of mine, David Moore, asked me if was going to play and I said "why not?".  I was ready to go, but he told me I couldn't play until the next year.  So as with baseball, it was kind of a flippant, non-chalant "sure" when it came to starting to play.

In 5th grade, I remember being scared to death because they were going to make cuts.  We had tryouts and they called my name early, I guess that meant I was good enough because I ended up starting a lot that year.  But I can remember being scared to death that I would get cut, but I can also remember how bad I felt for the kids whose names were not called.  I still remember how upset some of them were and I can remember how bad the coach felt.

My 5th grade coach was Terry Bottorff, he was an intense man and would compete at everything.  That first game we played St. Joe at home and won 19-18.  I was so excited, I ran and jumped into my coaches arms like we had won a state championship or something.  It was an intense game and when it was over...it was relief.  We didn't win many games that year or the next year in 6th grade, but we were beginning to play.


(6th grade, I am front row, second from left...#6 after Dr. J)

 By 6th grade, I was probably the best player in our class, but other guys  might make the argument they were.  I don't remember much about the games, but I remember yelling at a referee and my father getting on me pretty when I got home, and I remember thinking I was pretty hot stuff...and I wasn't really.  The bigger I thought I was and the harder I played, the worse I was, I was learning to be humble.



(7th grade, I am #3.  This team was pretty good, Jim Martin #25 was a man amongst boys)

 By 7th grade, I had gotten pretty good.  I remember our coach Rick Belcher thought I was pretty good and even had some older guys come in to show them how good I was.  I remember back talking him a few times and he smiled.  It was the last time I did that because I knew it wasn't right to do so.  That year, we did win a bunch of games and were on our way....so we thought.

In 8th grade, we started off very well, but suddenly we started playing teams that had caught up to us physically and we struggled, I struggled.  I did make our all tourney team with Jamie and Scott Matthews from NW, both would play college basketball, John Deaton from Austin and Bobby Coomer from Scottsburg.

I decided that I was going to rededicate myself to getting better.  I wanted to play varsity as a freshman, but that wouldn't happen.  I did start j.v. most every game as a freshman, but we had a couple of senior guards on a 14-7 team.  I wish I had dressed varsity as a freshman, but the coaches didn't see fit to, I think it was because we had a few junior guards on the j.v. and it was going to keep them happy or it could have been I wasn't good or strong enough.

(That's me, third row from the bottom, all the wa to the right at Hanover College basketball camp)



I went to Hanover College basketball camp that summer before 9th grade and really improved my jump shot.  I went on to have a good freshman season on the j.v. and then made the varsity as a sophomore.  I would end up starting most all of the games as a sophomore on a 12-9 team.  Senior Kevin Robertson was on that team and probably the best player I played with in high school.  I noticed my freshman year, but it was my sophomore year when I started to notice jealousy from some of my classmates who played.  Things like spitting on my stuff, tying my shoes together, isolating me.  At that time I was pretty upset about it, but realize now that it made me a better person.

As a junior, we dropped to 10-11 and didn't seem to click.  Some in the community say it was because we had too many selfish players, maybe, it might have been the other teams on our schedule were pretty good.  I did make all conference.



(12-10 Floyd Sectional runner ups my senior year, that's me front row all the way to the right)

My senior year, we probably over achieved if we under achieved my junior year.  That year we did have seven seniors, but weren't all that athletic, but we were smart and did what our coach told us to do.  I was the leading scorer, made all conference and all sectional.  We got a good draw in the one class sectional at Floyd Central in that we drew Borden another small school. We had beaten them twice in close games and we thought we were much better than them, but they were pretty excited to be playing us.  I took it personally, I thought we were much better and I scored a bunch of points early and the game was over at halftime.

That got us into the final against the host team, Floyd Central.  That FC team was good, but were mostly juniors.  The next year they would go to the State Finals and Pat Graham would be named Mr. Basketball.  They jumped out on us and were up 10-0 and we called a timeout.  We kept it within 20 for most of the game and actually made a run and cut it to 12, I think, with the ball late in the fourth.  They pulled away and won by 20+.  I finished with a career high 33 points in my last game. 

One thing I don't think I put into perspective was how much not just basketball, but Henryville basketball meant to me.  My mom had me in October and I started going to games in November.  I have been to games ever since.  All I wanted to do was play for Henryville.  When I played games as a kid, I rarely was an IU Hoosier or a Boston Celtic, but I was a Henryville Hornet.  Towards the end of that last game in the sectional final, I fouled out.  I started to cry...I knew it was over.  My mom and others told me later that I got a standing ovation as I walked off the floor, I had gotten pretty hot in bringing us back on that little run, and I sat down and hid my head into my towel.  I had people pat me on the back, but I was inconsolable especially when I got into the locker room.  It was then that it hit me even more...it was over.  I would never put that uniform on again.  I had people ask me what was wrong and all I could say was "it's over".

I had a couple of offers to go play basketball in college, I remember a letter from Wooster in Ohio, but it was to attend college there and pay my own way.  Now that I am older, I understand that was an honor, but at the time, if I were going to pay my way, I was going to stay closer to home.  Which I did and attended IU Southeast in New Albany.  I was asked to walk on the baseball team, but heard nothing about basketball.  It was very hard to deal with.  I played intramurals, but it wasn't the same. 

Probably the hardest part was standing in line that next year to buy a ticket to an event that I had participated in for the last four years.  I gave my heart and soul to it especially in my last game, and yet there I was buying a ticket.  My old high school coach had gotten fired that summer and the guy that took over wasn't exactly of the same mold....and you could tell.

I watched as the program that I grew up in and was a part of became a mockery.  Not only did they lose, they lost by a lot and players quit through the year because of the mockery it had become.  Of course, I was biased in thinking that my coach and the coach before him did things the right way, the only way.  I couldn't understand why this new guy would do what he did.  Now that I am older I understand: first, he wasn't a very good coach and second he got angry and defiant and was going to do it his way no matter what...he lasted one year.

My high school coaches, this guy right after I graduated, and the next guy influenced what I would do in the future when it came to basketball.  To be honest, I never thought about being a basketball coach, but I had dropped out of college (will get into that later) and was looking for direction in a life that seemed to be drifting.  One evening I stopped by Henryville's open gym and what happened next changed my life.