A Season To Remember

So…after a little deviation from my early life history, here we are back where we left off. Continuing the account of our basketball team brings us to our senior year and that eventful season which is forever burned in my memory. Thirty five years after the fact, there are flashes of memories of that special year that often cross my mind – memories from the past that are as priceless as any of this world's treasures.

We had worked extremely hard during the summer to improve our basketball skills and get in the best possible condition. Remember we had a goal, a burning desire actually, to win a state championship and we were pretty certain of who we'd have to go through to achieve that goal. You see, the guys from the year before had been denied a chance to play in the state tournament by a school from Birmingham that was renowned for having good teams almost every year. We just knew if we were going to state we'd have to beat the "Family" – Holy Family High School! Our coach had even posted a picture of some of their players on a wall in our gym – a picture that remained on that wall all season.

The schedule for our senior season was filled with schools in higher classifications than our small school, with only the necessary games against schools in our 1A classification. We had one of the smallest enrollments of any school in the entire state and our coach wanted us to play against the best competition available to prepare us for what we would face at the end of the season. We began the season with a huge win over 3A Sparkman High School and it looked good for our team at the outset of the season. One of the most memorable events for me during the early part of our season was a tournament that we played in Nashville at David Lipscomb College. The teams in the tournament were all from schools similar to ours in that they were also religiously affiliated schools. We had a really great time during those few days. We stayed in the dorms that were vacated for the Christmas holiday season and ate every night at a little pizza place that had live music (a guy playing the banjo and sort of singing). It was a great experience and we won the tournament as well.

As we entered the month of January, we had lost three games and although we felt they were games we should have won, there was no sense of alarm. We were confident that we'd take care of business the remainder of the way. However, the next few weeks were unnerving to say the least. It seemed that our dream of winning the state championship was coming unraveled as we lost seven of thirteen games during that stretch. No matter what we did it just seemed that we could not "right the ship" and this skid culminated in being put out of the county tournament by a team that we had beaten by 37 points just two weeks prior. It was during this difficult stretch of our season that I learned something about our coach that surely did not escape the attention of the others on the team. We were at a team meeting at one of our player's home, called by team members for the purpose of trying to sort through the losing skid we were on and rectify the situation. Our coach dropped by for a few minutes to address the team and I will never forget what followed. He brought out something in each and every player's life that had presented a difficulty and a challenge in their life and pointed out that each situation was something that every one of us had overcome and gone on with our life. Why, I wasn't even aware that he knew of the life-altering situation in my life that he mentioned – the death of my mother when I was four years old. What I learned about our coach at that meeting was, with all the yelling and angry looks and all the running us until we thought we were going to die, he actually cared for us as individuals. We were more than just players on a team that he happened to be coaching.

Well, we entered the area tournament with renewed determination and confidence that we would make the state tournament and win it. I'll have to say, however, it didn't seem that much of the rest of the student body of our school had much confidence in us at this point. But we pretty much breezed through the area tournament without much of a test by the teams we played. Shortly after the finish of the final area tournament game, we learned who we would have to play in the regional final game which was the last step to the state tournament – that's right, the "Family"; Holy Family High was our next opponent. Now, they had two guys that were 6' 6'' tall and could jump so high that they could block a 20 foot shot at its peak. In preparation for this, we met in the gym that Saturday morning and coach had the tallest player on our team hold a straw broom and we had to try to shoot over the broom while he tried to block shots.

Our style of play was high pressure defense and up-tempo, fast break, get the ball down the court and it worked quite well for us. But coach and his assistants thought we'd be better served against Holy Family to slow the pace down to a crawl. So the game that night began with us doing everything possible to keep the pace of the game as slow as feasible, but by halftime we found ourselves behind by 11 points. Through three years of playing for our coach, we had grown accustom to being yelled at and jumped on at halftime no matter how the game was progressing. However, this night we sat there in total silence as we watched our usually vocal coach as he paced back and forth for just about the entire halftime break without even a word. Finally he stopped in his tracks and asked, "Fellows, can we trap"? We, as a unit, answered "Yes, Sir" and we hit the court in the second half running the half-court trapping defense we had been trained to run for three years. The result was astounding! We tied the game before Holy Family was able to score and by midway of the fourth quarter we led by 16 points. Final score: ABS 66, Holy Family 61 – we were on our way to the state tournament!

Words fail me to adequately describe the experience of being a part of the only basketball team in school history to ever reach the state tournament. First there was the ride from Athens to Tuscaloosa. We stopped in Birmingham to get gas in the bus and while there we saw some kids playing at a school next door and couldn't help but notice the colors of their gym clothes. Someone called to one of them and asked what the name of the school was and the student said, "Holy Family". Wow! We told them who we were and they invited us into their school and served us refreshments and wished us luck. To this day I've always wondered if that was simply a coincidence or planned by our coach – maybe I'll ask him one day. Then there was the excitement and thrill of playing in Coleman Coliseum on the same floor where Alabama greats like Anthony Murray, T.R. Dunn, Reginald King and Leon Douglas played. What an unforgettable experience to be able to play the game we loved in the same arena as the Crimson Tide!

The thrill, the experience, and the excitement were great, but we were there on a mission. We were there to win the state championship! We played New Site in the first game and won relatively easily. The second game turned out to be the greatest test we would face in the tournament. Red Level had a very tough team and we trailed the entire game right up until ten seconds to go in the game. When that last shot went through to give us a one point lead and the final margin of victory, we and all of our fans went crazy! The third and final game of the tournament against Rebecca Comer was never really close as we won by 23 points. It is so rare for plans to work out just the way we want them to in this life but this time was an exception and our dream was realized – we were state champions!

What a magical conclusion to a dream first instilled in the minds of a group of little elementary school boys! It's as if someone wrote a fairytale with a storybook ending, only this story is true! Special thanks to Henry Fudge, Bill Murrell and Wayne Kuykendall.

Trying To Preserve My Sanity

Today is November 7, 2011 and I'm sitting in a rundown old house near Nebo, Illinois. A group of five deer hunters, including myself, are in Pike County enjoying the early part of a week of bow hunting. This is the first opportunity in all my 53 years to have the privilege of a hunt like this where there are deer of the quality that this beautiful part of the country holds. It is warm and raining at this moment and as I look out the window of this old house, a pheasant is walking down the edge of the gravel road just 40 feet from the house. That's right – a pheasant! Where it came from is anybody's guess. Better hunting weather is predicted toward the middle of the week and hopefully that will prove to be accurate because the rut is getting underway and the bucks are chasing does persistently.

This hunt is the realization of a dream from as far back as my memory will take me and the other guys are a really good bunch to be able to share this experience with. Even more than the realization of a dream, this is also a therapeutic experience as well. My time spent in the woods or on the water does wonders for my sanity. The pressures and disappointments of life can sometimes become a suffocating burden, but when I'm twenty feet up in a tree or on a creek so far away from a highway that man made sounds are few or nonexistent those problems can be put on the back burner. This morning some of us were excited to see a monster buck chasing a huge doe. She was so big that we were looking for antlers. A sighting such as this causes us to look forward to the rest of the week's hunt with heightened anticipation - a buck like that is exactly what we hope to get within bow range before week's end.

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

At 6 A.M. we are sitting in our home away from home as the rain pours from the sky and the forecast calls for rain and thunderstorms all day – not very safe conditions for sitting in a tree stand. Four of us are sitting in the living room as one of the guys plays the guitar. The other guy is still in bed. We are thinking of going to find a diner to get some hot breakfast. Weather conditions are supposed to be better for deer hunting starting tomorrow and I'm really looking forward to that. In the meantime though, it is quite enjoyable to sit and listen to the music and sing along once in a while. Hunting has not been great for the first couple of days, but the experience of being in Pike County, the "Golden Triangle" as it sometimes is referred to, is something that I'll remember and treasure for the rest of my life. Just to see the incredible size of the deer in this area leaves me in awe. These created wonders are a testimony of the amazing power and wisdom of the master Designer.

"The earth is the Lord's, and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein. For He has founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the waters."

Thursday, November 10, 2011

The weather was considerably better for hunting today in Pike County Illinois which made for a more enjoyable day. All the guys in our group saw deer this afternoon. Things seem to be looking up for our chances of taking some good bucks. There is nothing more beautiful and relaxing than the deer woods cloaked in fall colors with deer moving calmly about. The peaceful solitude of sitting high in a tree watching and hearing nothing but the sights and sounds of nature helps keep me sane. This afternoon a half grown fawn came in and browsed a while and then laid down and took a nap for half an hour just 30 yards from the tree I'd climbed. I named the little buck after my precious little grandson. Tomorrow mornings weather forecast gives promise of another good day in the woods and so with much anticipation we sit and talk about where each of us will hunt at daybreak.

We've finished eating our supper and as we sit around the living room of this old dilapidated house that has been home for six days now, we are enjoying the sounds of music. Three of the guys are pretty good with a guitar and there's a little bit of singing as well, though that part is not so great. This week of hunting and the company of some really good guys has been an experience that will be treasured for the rest of my life. Even so, the old saying "there's no place like home" is certainly true and I'm really missing my family and especially my sweet little grandson. He's two and one half and is the light of my life. How can a little boy capture the heart of a 53 year old man so completely? One of the most precious sounds I've ever heard is that sweet child calling me "Poppy". It's really going to be great to see that boy again in a couple of days.

For now we are getting ready to settle into bed and get some much needed rest before rising at 4:00 A.M. and heading back to the woods. Tomorrow is the last full day of this week's dream hunt and hopefully we can all be successful and make this an absolutely fulfilling experience for each of us.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Today was the last day of our Pike County hunt. This morning we got out of bed at 4:00 A.M. as we have all week long but this morning there was a sense of sadness that our hunt is coming to an end. Yet there was also a feeling of relief and anticipation that we are going to go back home to be with the ones we love. I have missed my little grandson more than words can express and can't wait to pick him up and kiss his cheek and hear him say "Poppy".

We are leaving Illinois with the same number of deer that we came with. The weather early this week was not good for deer hunting but improved late in the week. Two of the guys got shots but missed. Such is the world of bow hunting for deer! This morning we hunted until 9:00 A.M. and then packed up to head home. I saw three shooter bucks this morning but all of them came through about 100 yards away. One of them was the quality of buck I came to Illinois hoping to see. He was huge and he was hot on the trail of a doe but she led him up and over the hillside and out of my sight. The other two were not quite as nice but were nice enough that I'd have taken one of them if possible. Two of the other guys saw shooter bucks this morning as well but also didn't have a chance to shoot. So we are heading home with no deer but with rich experiences to store away in our memory banks. One day I hope to be blessed with another opportunity to go on a hunt where the big bucks roam and maybe finally have the dream encounter of a lifetime with a 180 class deer. For now, though, I'll cherish this experience in another part of the creation and look forward to new opportunities to spend time in the woods. It is experiences such as the past week that help me keep my sanity. The pressures and disappointments that come with everyday life in this world seem to fade into the distance when I'm in the woods or on a creek somewhere. Everyone needs to find something such as this that takes them away from their problems and the weight of everyday life.

Keeping Things In Perspective

Solomon wrote, "Better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men; and the living will take it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by a sad countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth."  This morning, the third day of November, 2011 I went to the house of mourning. The occasion was the funeral for a friend's father. His father was 87 years old and left behind two sons, four daughters, 13 grandchildren, 23 great grandchildren and a great-great-grandchild. A lot of good things were said about this man and the life he lived, but the most important aspect of his life was that he knew the Lord. It is a promise that will not fail that vengeance will be forth-coming on "those who do not know God". This man was never the CEO of a large corporation or a prominent coach of a prestigious university or the president of his country, but men of his caliber are truly the cornerstones on which this country stands. When we lose men like him, I pray God there's another to take his place because without these men our country's foundation will weaken and crumble.

Many men and women have reached lofty positions in the eyes of our society who have neglected family and even moral values along the way. How many times have you heard about someone who attained a high status in some company and made a lot of enemies along the way by just running over and stepping on whomever was in the way? Too often, folks spend their life trying to be important and don't pay enough attention to the things that are important!  How many people have you ever heard of that said on their death bed, "I wish I'd spent more time at the office" or "I wished I'd worked more hours on my job"? Those are not the things people regret in their life but rather the regrets are not spending more time with family, not taking that vacation with a spouse or not taking the time to really enjoy nature.

My friend's father was a great man, not because of the position he held in a company or university or country, but because he was a good, decent, respectable and loving father, grandfather and great grandfather. Those who spoke at his funeral spoke of a man who loved life, family and the Lord and who was loved and respected by those who knew him best. No position a man can hold in this life should be more coveted than to be a family man who puts God and family first in his every thought. How blessed our country would be if more of our men and women were as solid as my friend's father. We need a nation of people who know how to keep things in perspective – who understand what is really important in life. "Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people."

Kind words and glowing praise spoken at a funeral are only valid if the life lived matches the words spoken; otherwise it is just empty rhetoric. This man lived a life that could be appreciated by those who knew him best. What about you and me? What will be said truthfully about us when those who know us best gather to pay respects when we pass from this world? May we all have the vision to understand what really matters in life!

Chasing A Dream – Setting A Goal

By the time freshman year arrived, basketball was very much what my life revolved around. Any available time, 24 hours a day, seven days a week was spent either playing basketball or working to get in better shape. For the next four years, weights, weight vests, running, jumping, dribbling, shooting and such consumed my time and I loved it! One Friday night during that freshman year we had a "camp out" in the gym. We literally played and shot baskets all night, finally laying down to sleep at 5:30 A.M. and then getting up again at 7:00 A.M. to go again. Sleep came quite easily that Saturday night!

At some point during those junior high years it was brought to my attention that the group of young men that I'd become privileged to join had set a goal a few years earlier that had been instilled in them by their coach during the third and fourth grade years. That goal was to win the state championship in basketball! It was a goal that was embraced by us all and we spent hours and hours chasing that dream for the remainder of our high school careers. We'll get back to this later in the history of Durwood's life!

There's very little in life that can give you more satisfaction than having the privilege of engaging in something you love and basketball was a game that I really enjoyed. Our team that freshman year was very good and we won most of our games, but the next year is one that really stands out in my memory. Our sophomore year was a really special year for us and in a lot of ways became a preview of coming things for our team. We only had eight players that year but we ended the year with a record of 18 and 1. That single loss for the season was to a school that was two classifications above ours and we didn't lose by much even though they had a bench full of players to throw at us. Perhaps the most memorable game that year was one in which all but four of us fouled out early in the fourth quarter but we managed to hang on and win that one. We ended the season by winning the county tournament, putting a nice finish on a great season.

During our junior year, our basketball season turned out to be something quite unexpected even by our coach. Three of the best players from our previous year's team had moved up to the varsity team and no one thought we'd be very good that year, especially our coach! As it turned out, after eleven games we were 9 and 2 and doing very well – at least as far as our record was concerned. Coach, however, was another story as he was not happy with our "effort". One particular day of practice after a game that we had won, he made us run suicide sprints and what we called six pointers for 45 minutes without a break! He was crazy I tell you! By season's end, we had experienced a pretty decent year, winning far more than we lost – perhaps overachieving in the eyes of some. Our senior season was going to be special, we just knew it!