My Week On the Brink - Thursday

My Week on the Brink is winding down. Today at lunch, Coach Stroupe looked at all the coaches and said, "It's Thursday." We are all tired - tired of learning stations, tired of certain kids who continue to get on our nerves and just plain tired. Without meaning to sound too dramatic, being on your feet all day in charge of 60 campers does wear you out. I know that in the big scheme of things it is hardly manual labor, but we are all tired at this point.

The coaches this week are a solid group. It makes the whole week so much easier when the coaches are in complete control and keeping good order. Coach Stroupe runs camp like clockwork. Every minute is thought out and designed for the good of the camper. I cannot say the same for every basketball camp I have worked. Coach Mitchell is the former boys varsity coach and current girls middle school coach. He has been at Webb forever and knows his stuff. Coach K is the new boys varsity head coach. He is my age, played at Davidson and coached some in Sweden. I think we would be buddies if I lived in Knoxville and he did not work for a school that my school plays. There have already been a couple of conversations when we both stepped back before revealing too much about our program's respective philosophies. Brother Jim is the oddball coach of the camp. I have no idea what his credentials are, but his bald head and awful fashion sense provide some levity to the staff. Finally, we have a kid named Cameron Sharp who plays for Carson-Newman. He came to camp back when I first started working it and turned into a fantastic player. He is not tall, not too quick and not intimidating, but he was All-State at Halls in Knoxville and is a testament to where hard work will get you. All in all, I don't think there is a camp in East Tennessee that offers a better staff of coaches. That is why the camp is always full.

Today was "Favorite Team Shirt" day and, as you can guess since we're in Knoxville, the Vols were the most popular choice. I was pleasantly surprised to see several Chris Lofton jerseys on the campers. I don't wear jerseys because I'm a grown man, but if I did it would be a Chris Lofton one. There were also two Kevin Garnett Celtic jerseys on display which both looked to be fresh off the hanger. Something tells me those kids told Mom to drive them to Foot Locker to get a shirt for today's camp.

The highlight of the morning was a time-killing demonstration of a silly middle school game. We were waiting for some late arrivals, so Coach Stroupe showed them how to play some game called "Wah." I did not understand the rules at all, so don't ask. One of the kids demonstrating the game was least favorite camper. He routinely disrupts the drills at my learning station by walking right through the middle of them or by not realizing it is his turn. He is not a basketball player in any regard. He is, however, quite a "Wah" player. He was so over-the-top into this game that even some of the kids were laughing in an entertained-more-than-making-fun type of way. It might have been my favorite moment of the entire camp.

The big event of Thursday is the one-on-one tournament. There can be only one winner for each group, so that leaves 54 broken hearts. They all harbor hopes of winning it, not bothering to let reason or logic cast doubts on that happening. The worst player in my group was in tears after being eliminated from the loser's bracket. I guess that is admirable, but did he really think he might win it? What exactly were his expectations in this tournament?

Looking back, I think I was the same way as a kid. I can remember losing my mind about losing games in camp or with friends, but now I think about who I lost to and wonder what I was so upset about. One year at Ooltewah Camp, I lost to a freakish kid named Jason Green who was like 6'2 in the 5th grade (he never grew again). I was so upset about it. He drilled me like 16-0 and I took it hard. He was a full foot taller than me with a pretty decent mustache. Why did I have any hopes of winning? There is something charming about kids who are still naive enough to not recognize their shortcomings. There is plenty of time for that later in life.

The day ended with way too much 5 on 5 time before candy bars. The longer the scrimmages go, the more the kids push the foul limit. As informal referees, we only blow our whistles when someone is bloody or unconscious. If the games go on too long, the kids figure this out and just kill each other. I had to stop my game once today to address the fouling, but it only stopped because scrimmage time was over. At this age, they are completely Machiavellian in their playing - the ends justify the means. If fouling and pushing equals victory, foul and push. As Bobby "The Brain" used to say, it is only cheating if you get caught.

Friday is just hours away, so I'm off to bed to dream of all the things I'm going to buy with tomorrow's paycheck. Friday is usually a great day because the kids are all in suck-up mode to try to capture "Camper of the Week." Don't tell anyone, but my group winner is so obvious that I could have given it on Wednesday. My big job for tomorrow is to figure out his name.