* The opinions reflected in this piece are those of me, Jessica Grant. If I offended you, take it up with me. Leave the administration alone. It’s been a long year.
After the loss to Montezuma South Gray, I asked head coach Kyler Stein what he said in the locker room after that game. What does one say to a group of kids whose hopes of victoriously cutting down a state championship basketball net have been cut short? What can be said to feed their drive to play another game at the end of a long season that saw feelings, players, and dreams injured? What did he and assistant coach Zach Douglas say to keep them going?
“We still have an opportunity to get a win and bring some hardware back home,” he reminded the team.
By “hardware” Stein meant a third place plaque, and while it didn’t happen in the way he intended, some hardware was brought home.
It just took all of us to do it.
You see, Solomon received a prestigious award. It’s only proper journalism to tell you the official name:
The 2022 Kansas State High School Activities Association (KSHSAA) State Basketball Tournament Sportsmanship Award.
Alas, that name is boring–just typing that title takes an act of immense concentration in order to remain awake. And, most disappointingly it doesn’t really capture what the award truly means. The essence and gravity of the honor is lost with such an uninspired title.
But first, let’s explore what the award means on a literal level.
Solomon will receive a plaque and a medal, which is the highest distinction a community can achieve. Everyone who goes to the state tournament is judged. Literally. A rubric system is created and a team of KSHAA representatives rates each school. The representatives rate us all: the players, coaches, managers, cheer squad, pep band leader, cheer coaches, the student section, the pep band, and the fan section. They grade us on sportsmanship. But, what we were really being graded on was our humanity.
You can either follow this link, or allow Jodi Howard, cheer co-coach and counselor to explain the more emotional side of the award:
“My favorite part of winning the sportsmanship award is recognizing our passion for our gorillas,” she said, referring to the collective community. “It offers the students that can't play, don't play, are not there yet, the ability to feel a part of something as big as a state tournament bid. Solomon schools allowed the opportunity for our students, cheerleaders, pep band, players, and coaches to feel included in our teams' success, and winning an award for the hours they put in supporting their state team players this year was just icing on a big fat vanilla and red velvet cake (with silver sprinkles).
While I agree with Jodi on everything but the cake—clearly it should be a chocolate cake, with a hint of hazelnut, frosted with thick buttercream vanilla icing. I’m cool with silver sprinkles.—she has the essence of this award on point.
Superintendent Justin Coup has a knack for explaining things in a concise and clear manner. To him, this honor “shows how much the community, school and players came together to support and encourage each other.”
“It recognizes the pride our community has in our school,” he said.
Let’s look at this more analytically: 112 communities participated in the Kansas Basketball State Tournament. Only a paltry 34 teams won awards. Only 15 communities got plaques and medals. That’s 13 percent. There, have I satisfied the number lovers and illustrated that this award isn’t something handed out without merit?
Here’s what it really means and why I argue that this distinction matters more than taking home a state championship. (Hear me out before you throw your phone at the wall. This is probably an unpopular opinion, I know. Remember, come at me—don’t bug anyone else.)
Sure, the beauty of a single elimination tournament is the messy, magnificent mix of elation, hope, and heartbreak. It’s utterly mad in a gloriously cathartic manner. By the end there remains only one talented, disciplined, and lucky team. Sure, everyone wants to win a state title. That’s an intoxicating feeling–for a handful of people. A state golf title honors the individual golfer and team, a state basketball title honors the team, and it certainly does bring feelings of solidarity and pride to a community. I in no way mean to downplay the honor the boys’ team brought to both our school and community. Their hard work and dedication, coupled with the leadership of two fine coaches brought out the best in these young players. They became better basketball players, better competitors, and better young men. Despite not winning the state championship, the wins related to their character will resonate and positively impact their futures. We never could have earned this sportsmanship award without their perseverance and winning record.
But this. This is different. It’s different because it formally recognizes us. The community of Solomon as a whole.
This award reflects just how much we, Solomon, are in this together.
It’s an award that encompasses the cheer squad, the band, the boys’ basketball team, the band director, the student section, the cheer coaches, the basketball coaches, and the fan section. It means we all remembered to be better. Sure, sometimes a few of us let it be known that we found a ref’s opinion, um, idiotic. But, for the most part, we all remembered that refs are just guys doing a job–and doing the best they can. We all remembered that the coaches are just guys trying to share a love of the zest for life that is the game of basketball–and doing the best they can. We remembered that the cheer team kept smiles on their faces all season–even when the girls’ team lost a game by 50 points. At home. And they are doing the best they can. Most importantly, this is about us reminding ourselves that we are all human–and we are all doing the best we can.
“It shows that we are good at not just playing the sport, but we are good people,” said senior cheerleader Nicole Price. “This award is saying that we handled a loss or a win with dignity.”
This award is about humanity at its best–this honor goes to those with the most character, deepest sense of respect for others, and strongest sense of collective dignity. This award doesn’t just honor a few–it means we all came together and made the world a little better. Think about it: being a human is hard. Hanging on to normalcy during a pandemic that dragged on is hard. Hanging on to positivity with the looming threat of a catastrophic war is hard. Hanging on to the values that make us better people in the face of adversity is hard.
But we proved that facing hardships was something Solomon residents could do with aplomb. We know what it takes to make our small corner of this wide world better. And we remembered to imbibe in pure joy–just look at their faces in the accompanying picture. Look at the abandon with which those kids celebrate and support—Macey Maddy looks purely rapturous. They came together. And this is what matters the most.
We all came together. We became better and that allowed for the creation of what will be treasured memories and joyous moments. This award means that “we” really is the Solomon community as a whole.
We made the world a better place and it took all of us.
We brought home the hardware.
Photo courtesy of Stacey Zerbe
Editing and fact checking by Alana Wood