My daughter’s team was playing in the first game of sectionals against a young and scrappy team from Verona High School. The game was coming right down to the wire. Verona was up by two points, and there were ten seconds left on the clock. We had the ball. One of our junior guards was dribbling down the court. Five, four, three…She shoots! She misses. My daughter grabs the rebound and goes right back up. She was fouled with one second left on the clock. I felt like my heart had stopped. The whole season coming down to these two free throws. If she misses, the season is over.
What If She Misses?
Abject fear is running through my mind. My daughter was having an outstanding season up to this point averaging 20 points and 9 rebounds per game. I know that the home crowd expects that she should make the shots. After all, her free throw percentage was at 85% for the year. I was thinking to myself that if she misses, she will be labeled a “choker.” The kid that cannot hit the shots when they count.
My rational mind tells me that, if she doesn’t make them, it is just not that big of a deal. The sun will come up in the morning. Right?!? Deep down in my heart, I know that she has to make them for herself and her team as a validation of all the time and effort she has put into the game.
What If She Makes It?
My initial thought was to pray that she makes them, so she does not have to face the disappointment of failing. Then my mind turned to all of the nights that my daughter and I spent in the driveway. At the end of each workout, we would always pretend that we were in a pressure situation. We would start the countdown and shoot a last-second three-point shot to win a state championship. We would create these last-second pressure situations over and over again. A sudden calmness washed over me when I realized that we were practicing for this moment for years. I thought to myself, “She has these!”.
Affirmation
She stepped up to the line. The opposing fans were screaming at the top of their lungs. The first shot hit the front of the rim, bounced against the backboard, and then dropped. Exhale. One down. She lined up the second one. SWISH!!! We are going to overtime. She did it. The story, however, did not have a happy ending. We ended up losing in the overtime period by one point.
I decided that on Saturday morning to take my daughter to breakfast. I can’t even explain how proud I was of her. For me, as a former player, I know how tough that situation was. I wanted to get some face-to-face time to tell her how I felt about her performance and her in general. While we were looking at the menus, I dived right into it. I tried to explain my feelings and my pride as a father. She paused for a moment and looked at me. She then asked me if she should get strawberries or chocolate chips with her pancakes. With a big smile on my face, I told her, “Sweetie, why not get both!!!”. I finally understood. It was about the pancakes.
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