Hoop Dreams

I think I pretty much started 'playing' basketball shortly after I could walk.  My dad played hoops with a bunch of guys a few times a week at an open gym a few blocks away at the local middle school; he would take my sister and me along, and we would run-a muck playing on the sidelines, the bleachers, the stage, and anywhere else we found amusing.  The guys he played with also brought along their kids, so there was always a group of kids to play with. As we got older (as in 3rd/4th grade), our dads started to develop our basketball fundamentals.  My dad would put me through post drills (where my jump hook was established) on the sidelines when he wasn't playing, and before leaving we would each shoot 25 free throws.  Five at a time, and rotate between myself, my sister, my dad, and another father-daughter team.  (I accredit my 90% high school, and 80% college free throw percentage to this practice specifically).

I believe I started to play 'organized' basketball in 4th or 5th grade, and for most of those late elementary and middle school traveling basketball years, dad was our/my coach.  Now, my dad has always been, and will always be a coach to me, but he literally was our coach.  And because of the group of little athletes we were, and our coaching staff...we. were. good.  I think our 8th grade year, we went 16-1.  Looking back those were some of my 'funnest' years.  Gosh.  To be kids again, traveling a few hours on a Saturday morning to play (at that time) 5-6, maybe 7 games.  (They have now decreased the amount of games they play to around 4 I believe).  But gosh, I would go back to those days in a heart beat.  Not a worry in the world, just playin' ball, hangin' with your friends.  

And now that I'm old enough to realize and appreciate, I have to be so thankful for the dedication of our parents to allow us those opportunities.  Driving us to and from practice, traveling on the weekends, putting up with a group of up to 15 obnoxious preteen girls, and loving us all the same.  That's what amazing parenting is all about.

Like any little athlete, I had dreams of making it big.  I first remember wanting to play division 1 college basketball, and not just for anyone, for the Wisconsin Badgers.  When I was younger my dad took me to many college sporting events, including Badger basketball games, especially since my uncle had a connection with the university.  I remember one game in particular that I got to sit behind the bench, and go back to the press room where they hold post game interviews.  For an 8th grade girl, I was pretty much in awe.  

I think it was also that same year that the WNBA was established.  So not only did I have aspirations to play college basketball, now there was a dream to play beyond.  One of my favorite players was Rebecca Lobo.  I had read her book, and I had her New York Liberty Jersey.  (which some obnoxious preteen boys often taunted me about).  Okay, this post is getting way longer than intended.  To the point.  In case you are new to my blog or are completely oblivious, neither of those dreams came true.  But I did have a great high school career, enjoyed playing 4 years at the D3 college level, met many incredible people, and was exposed to many incredible opportunities (i.e. playing basketball/traveling to London).  

Me holding the WNBA Championship Trophy

Yesterday, I achieved another dream.  Kind of. 

 I don't feel an ounce of failure when it comes to those childhood dreams, rather I am proud to have been bold with my dreams and achieved what I did.  I really didn't think that I would be so inspired and excited to see the WNBA Championship trophy yesterday at our LTF location.  But it brought me back to being that little girl, that just wanted to play basketball.  That mind set that the sky is the limit, and that the only way to dream is to dream big.  Good stuff maynard.  Good stuff.