While I spent most of my time on the Junior Varsity high school team during my freshman and sophomore years, I obsessively thought not only of how our team could get better, but also how I could keep my place on the team or move up. Whether I was getting a lot of scrimmage time in practice or actual playing time in the games, I felt that I was always one step away from oblivion. I would worry about how I might be relegated to the bench or cut entirely from the team.
The Junior Varsity coach, Coach Henry, seemed to have very little interest in helping his players with their self-confidence. He had very little to say that was not couched in criticism and shame for one’s last play or mistake. Most of the team felt that way, but it was expected and not much of a surprise.
Early in my sophomore season, one of the freshman players, Eddie James, was promoted from the freshman team to the JV team. On the day, he walked into his first JV practice, Coach Henry, introduced him with fanfare that I had never heard from any coach introducing any player in our program.
James was a classically tanned, blond, athletic, player who stood out from the primarily Hispanic student body of the school. With his natural-looking but air blown and feathered haircut, he looked like he had just walked out of the country club on the other side of the tracks. He, in fact, was pretty well known as a tennis player who had already won a place on the school varsity tennis team. It was hard not to be impressed with him.
Don’t get me wrong (there it is again). Despite my description, I welcomed him to the team, particularly if he was going to develop as a basketball player and eventually help us win.
What I did not realize that Coach Henry was picturing him as an eventual replacement for me in the starting line-up. At about the third practice into Eddie’s JV career, Coach Henry, began placing him on the first team practice squad while I was relegated to the second team that focused on defense and making the first team work hard on offense.
When the season started, I was returned to the first team; however, I had had very little time practicing with the first team and did not feel any chemistry with the first team. Awkward, rusty and uncomfortable at the first of the season, my first few games probably did not impress anyone. Unsurprisingly, I began to share more and more playing time in the games with my freshman rival who could seemingly to do no wrong. Though he did not really play better than me, the bar was not set as high for him as he was still developing.
One day, in the middle of the season, while I practiced my shooting at the playground. I was approached the stranger (my unofficial basketball tutor). After immediately telling him about the situation I ask him what he thought about what I should do. He asked a few more questions, pondered for what seemed like hours, and said, “You have nothing to worry about.”
I said angrily, “I have nothing to worry about?! Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? This is really bad.”
He replied, “As soon as his tennis schedule conflicts with his basketball schedule, he will choose tennis, and the problem will go away.”
“What makes you think he will choose tennis?” I asked, still angry. “He is getting pretty good at basketball, and he plays as much as I do.”
He replied, “Because country clubs and tennis lessons are expensive. His family has invested a lot of time and energy into tennis, and they are not about to throw all that away for a chance to play with a bunch of good for nothing Mexicans.” He continued, “You just watch. Maybe this summer, maybe during fall practice, or maybe later, he will be gone as suddenly as he arrived. Poof, problem solved.”
As the weeks went by, the stranger’s predictions seemed to be coming true. Eddie, despite his initial promise, began to struggle with the balance of tennis and basketball. He missed practices and games here and there, and eventually, it was clear that he was prioritizing tennis. He was not willing to let go of the country club lifestyle, and it seemed he had no intentions of playing on the JV team for much longer. Coach Felix was tolerant of his absences for some reason, but I didn’t think Coach Goodwin would put up with it when Eddie got the varsity squad.
As promised, James' tennis schedule did eventually conflict with our basketball schedule. He missed a few practices and then, unsurprisingly, Coach Henry decided to bench him for a few games as a punishment or wake-up call. It seemed that the problem was resolved, at least for the moment. But as the district championship was still up for grabs, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only a temporary solution.
As the season’s end came closer, my instincts told me that the stranger was right. Eddie James never missed a basketball practice, but he also never missed a tennis practice or tournament. And it was becoming obvious that he was making rapid progress as a tennis player. Even at basketball practices, he would often focus more on his tennis swing during lulls in the action than on his basketball moves.
But I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous of him. Maybe it was the fact that he had such a unique haircut that stood out from the other players, or maybe it was the fact that he was already a varsity tennis player while I was still to trying keep my status on the junior varsity basketball team.
One day, I decided to confront him directly. "Hey, man, why are you so focused on tennis?" I asked him. "Don't you want to be a great basketball player too?"
He looked at me with a mix of surprise and amusement. "I do want to but, you sophomores seem to have a bond that I can’t seem to break into. You all have something special.” I had not seen that at all, and I think it took an outsider to see that comradery.
During one particularly intense game against one of our rival schools, I found myself sitting on the bench more than usual. Coach Henry seemed to have full confidence in Eddie, giving him more playing time and crucial moments on the court. The frustration bubbled inside me, threatening to boil over. I almost did not notice that we did not have possession of the ball and there may not be time for one more play for us to get the win.
In a spirited but heated timeout, as the Coach Felix laid out the final play if we got the ball back, I felt a surge of determination as he called my name to enter the game. I assumed it was for my defensive hustle and knack for steals. Uncharacteristically, he also kept Eddie in as well. This was my chance to prove myself, to show that I belonged on that court just as much as Eddie. Soon after entering the game, while our opponents were trying to run out the clock, I anticipated a pass towards the player I was guarding. Stealing the ball and dribbling quickly down the court, I looked at the clock.
With seconds ticking away, I saw Eddie open with a great shot opportunity. As the seconds seemed to go in slow motion, I had a decision to make. Should I pass to my teammate and allow him the chance to shine, or should I continue to dribble the ball and take it upon myself to score?
Despite my mixed feelings, I instinctively passed to the open man. Without hesitation, Eddie turned to the basket and let the ball fly. I turned away, unable to endure the outcome or consequences of my selfless decision. But our home team crowd let me know that I had made the right decision as they let out a roar.
Much of that season was a blur. as I continued to struggle to find my footing, both on and off the court. I tried to focus on improving my own skills, but also felt good that I had made the right decision at a crucial time in the season. With that I could live with it and the season, as difficult and unsatisfying as it was overall.