The basketball team on which I most enjoyed playing as a teenager was, believe it or not, the tournament team from my hometown church in Pennsylvania. For two straight years, we traveled to a huge tournament at Penn State University and competed in an all-day event with hundreds of teams and thousands of players from a handful of Mid-Atlantic states.
During my senior year in high school, my oldest brother, who is seven years my senior, coached the team and implemented a style I loved playing. We ran a full-court press on defense after every made shot, and when our press led to turnovers and fast-break opportunities, everyone had the green light to shoot.
My brother, once the captain and two-year starting shooting guard of his high school basketball team, rarely said much to the officials, but I do remember him complaining — OK, maybe even shouting — at the officials during the tournament on two occasions. One occasion came early in my team’s first-round game in single-elimination tournament play, when my Salina Bible Church squad played a talented team from Connellsville, Pa. After blitzing teams with our full-court press and going 3-0 in pool play, we inexplicably ran out of gas against our lower-seeded opponents. Early in the game, I hit a 3-pointer in transition, but the official ruled the shot a 2-point basket.
For the complete article see the 12-28-2012 issue.
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