What Hurts The Most

The clock on the bus said it was 8:59 pm. We were on the outskirts of Oklahoma City and heading down I-44. To help make the trip go a little faster, I grabbed my IPOD, put in my ear pieces and clicked it on. The song that was cued up on my IPOD was “What Hurts the Most” by Rascal Flatts. The first words I heard went like this:

What hurts the most

Was being so close

And having so much to say

And watching you walk away

And never knowing

What could have been

And not seeing that loving you

Is what I was tryin' to do

Now I know this song is referring to a relationship between two people. But isn’t basketball, or sports in general, a lot like a relationship? (At least for those directly involved with the game?) For the coaches and the players, they pour every part of their being into basketball for 6 straight months. And in an instant, it’s over. The final horn sounds and your season is over. All the conditioning, all the practice, all the film study, all the bus trips, all the hotels, all the restaurants, all the fun times on the bus during an 8-hour trip, all the 3:00 am arrival times back to campus, all the heartbreak after a disappointing loss, all the excitement after a big win. All of it, finished. For the players that still have eligibility left, there’s always next year. But for those that have played their 4 years of college ball, competitive basketball is over.

For me, it’s a bittersweet time. The competitive fire in me wants to keep cheering the girls on. However, the father and husband in me is ready for a slower pace, a time to spend with my beautiful wife and ever-changing 7-month old son. I look forward to several months of family time without the constant stress of basketball. But I know come September, the juices will start flowing again and I’ll anxiously await the tip-off to a new season.

What could have been? We’ll never know. What will be? A great spring and summer spent with my beautiful family.