My Redlands FYTT Hawks team including Madison Ybarra (far left, second row), Perry Amador II (eyeglasses) and Eric Baker (first row, left) played hard, had fun.
By John Murphy
The other day I sifted through a file and found a photo of a basketball team I coached in Redlands eight years ago.
My Hawks of the FYTT League (ages 11-14) went 0-11 in 2012 but were a success. They showed up for every practice, were unselfish, played hard and had fun. Couldn’t ask for more.
Youth sports, like life, is not fair. You can’t control the allocation of talent. What you can control is your focus on fundamentals, sharing the ball and effort.
Another memento I uncovered was a player guide I made for my Pavilion Dental “Irish” team of Yucaipa. My former dentist, Helen Banez, sponsored us and our jerseys had big molars on the back. Hilarious. “Every loose basketball belongs to us” I wrote on the cover of the guide. Former Yucaipa High baseball star Jake Davila played on that team … and so did my son Kyle.
Coach long enough and you’ll have success stories. John Xerogeanes who I coached in San Bruno is now the Georgia Tech football team doctor and performed surgery on a US president. Trent Dilfer who played for me in Aptos was the winning quarterback in a Super Bowl. But I’m just as proud of the kids who tried their best and are now teachers and firefighters and financial advisors (hello Brian Cooke — how’s my portfolio looking?).
Sorry soccer, but basketball is the most beautiful sport. It is played by the world’s greatest athletes and, when played correctly, involves the most teamwork. As a coach you live for that moment your team makes that extra pass resulting in a basket. Gives me chills.
My team pictured above did that on occasion. I don’t remember all their names but I do recall Madison Ybarra, a girl who starred for us in an almost all-male league; Perry Amador II who did all the dirty work and never complained; and Eric Baker who had led a previous team I coached to victory a few days after his mom died. Gamers all.
Maybe if I keep looking, I’ll find my old whistle. I’m getting the itch again.
Main Street Dog 