Earlier this week, my son’s basketball team had a big win. But it had nothing to do with the score. It had everything to do with what happened after. They were playing a team from across town. The last time they faced each other, the game was tight—my son’s team won by just a few points. And at the end of that game, something unexpected happened. The teams came together. Laughing. Taking selfies. Teenage boys—competing hard, not knowing each other—connecting anyway.
It gave me so much hope. Fast forward to this week. This game was a blowout. My son’s team was on fire. So the coach did what good coaches do—he put in the kids who don’t usually get playing time. Eventually, the other coach did too.
And that alone said a lot. This coach is intense. I remember thinking during the first matchup, whoa—this guy wants to win at all costs.
But here we were. New kids on the court. Winning wasn’t the goal anymore. Experience was. My son is almost 6’2. One of his best friends is about 5’2—and because of that, he hasn’t gotten much playing time this season.
But this night? He was in. The players on the court worked to get him the ball. The players on the bench were on their feet, cheering—hoping he’d score his first basket of a quickly ending season. And let me tell you—this kid can shoot. Always has been able to. He started hitting shots. Then threes. Then foul shots. Thirteen points in two minutes. For real. The gym went absolutely insane.
When the buzzer sounded, his teammates rushed him and carried him off the court. And do you know who else rushed over? The other coach. And players from the other team. The coach even took a selfie with him. It. Was. Beautiful. And this wasn’t a one-off. Earlier in the week, my son’s team lost a blowout. Late in the game, another kid who rarely plays took a shot just as the buzzer sounded. SWOOSH. A three.
They lost the game—but no one cared. Their teammate had scored and made an incredible shot. No one talked about the loss, they talked about their teammate. And in yet another blowout loss, both coaches put the B teams in again. The A teams were on the benches, kinda. They weren’t obsessed with the score. They weren’t sulking on the bench. I saw teenage boys standing, cheering, screaming—for each other to have their moment.
My faith in humanity was restored a little this week. On a high school basketball court. And I’m holding onto these moments tighter than ever, especially this week.
Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always.
xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino
