T-High You Know

One red and one blue balloon fluttered against the chain link fence on a perfect fall afternoon. The local high school, Tamalpais, was hosting a tennis match. One set of a tennis match. The rest of the match, the finals of Division l, North Coast Sectionals, was all tied up. The last singles match had been called due to darkness, at a set a piece, two days earlier. Mia Anderson, playing for Tam, knew what was at stake. A chance to take her team further than they've ever gone. Her mom, Susan, one of my tennis teammates, was all nerves. No kidding. 

The only similar experience I've had as a mother was when Allie was the lead in the Sound of Music in eighth grade. The director kept calling me at home to insist that I keep Allie healthy, pointing out that there was no understudy. As if that didn't make me anxious enough, Allie refused to let me see any of the rehearsals. By opening night I was a wreck and had no idea what to expect. I knew she had a nice voice, but could she pull off Maria? I wasn't so sure. The curtain rose and Allie was amazing. Her voice was gorgeous and she could really act, but I was totally drained. 

The pressure on Mia wasn't lost on anyone. Her teammates, other students and parents chattered nervously during the warm up. When they started a cheer I was overcome with emotion. It's a call and response - the same cheer as when my three girls attended there. Someone says "T High" and the crowd answers, "You know". It repeats, getting louder. Simple, almost tribal, it's a tradition and brought back so many other sports and seasons sitting on cold, metal benches with hope and expectation and just plain happiness. 

If I'd been told long ago that some of the happiest moments of my life would be achieved by watching kids' sporting events, I never would have believed it. The times you think you should have fun, like parties or New Year's or whatever, often don't measure up. Seeing a child play their heart out, the suspense, the thrill of the competition - there is truly nothing like it. Sports can be so bastardized, but when they're done right even a loss can mean something, though we know everyone loves a winner. Get on the bandwagon.   

In 2000 Lucy was a senior at Tam High and Allie was ten years old. The school had an amazing boys' varsity basketball team. Allie loved basketball and I took her to every game, even on school nights. She and I went the night Lucy had her wisdom teeth removed. We left her home with Dad. We just couldn't miss a game. All through that season, with her friend, Scott, Allie cheered her little heart out. The guys never lost. They won MCALS, NCS and went on to the State Championship in Sacramento. Driving up there, we passed other cars decorated with red and blue - heading to the game. In Arco Arena, with a crowd of thousands, our guys played a team from Southern California. Tam won by a single point in a buzzer beating, heart stopping moment - a tip in.

Allie and Scott rode in the victory parade, with the star player, Jair. They read a poem they'd written about the team. Fast forward eleven years. Allie is a senior at UConn and Scott attends University of Oregon. Clearly, those early years were a formative influence on them. Basketball is in their blood. When UConn won NCAA last year, Allie and I "watched" the games together. She was at the campus bar and I was at home in California yelling for every three pointer. We sent each other messages whenever something exciting happened, which was constantly. Basketball is inherently exciting. 

I digress down memory lane. Back to Mia and her day in the sun. She came out strong and played solid tennis. The stands were packed and rowdy, but absolutely silent during the points. Some of the rallies were long and we just held our breath. Mia won the first two games, then lost the third. Soon she was up five one. Victory was so close. Then she lost a game and another. Five one became five four. The other team could taste it, too. Momentum was going their way. Anything can happen in tennis. You don't run out of time. Mia stayed tough and won the game. The team ran to the court and swarmed her in a pile. Hugging, crying, taking pictures, the parents were overwhelmed.

Everyone knew it was a team victory - not just Mia's. They wouldn't have gotten where they were if it weren't for all of their wins, all their talent and gritty determination. We also knew that a loss would feel like hers alone. She was very brave out there. These aren't just great players - they're an outstanding group of girls. Last year when we did a fund-raiser for the local, public courts, the team volunteered their time to model tennis clothes in a fashion show. Now it's on to Sacramento. T-high, you know, T-high, you know, T-high, you know.