Technically his name is actually Bob Murphy, and he's not really my uncle. But he was my basketball coach all four years in high school, and still someone I look up to now. There was no one like Murphy, and he is a huge reason my high school experience was as amazing as it was. My class of 2006 actually had Murph from 7th grade on since he moved to the HS Science Dept when we graduated. Then he coached JV Basketball my freshman year, (I was on his team) then he moved to Varsity. He's getting married, FINALLY! And to a FABULOUS woman who is perfect for him!!! The reason I call him Uncle Murph is because he and I just bonded over the years!
Most people don't know that I played A LOT of sports when I was in high school. In fact, so much that I suffered for it. Basketball was where my heart was. The team, the coach, the game, and the reward! There's nothing better than running yourself to the ground (literally) and working so hard to get a loose ball or stealing it from another team. "Play 'til you hear a whistle." And I did. In practice, I tried so hard to make up what I lacked in athleticism, in drive. I couldn't believe that I made Varsity my sophomore year. I was sure it was pity. Then half way through the season I was having a standard melt-down with all the stress, and I went to Murph and I'll never forget what he said to me, "Sash, I was plannin' on you movin' up with me. We both were goin' Varsity." --Here's the team my senior year. A GREAT group of girls, but my Junior year was the be all, end all. Can't find any of those pictures though...
There is nothing like a 6 hour bus ride with all your closest friends, and all the pillows and snacks you could ever want! Our team was so tight! Then my knees were going, and Murphy and I would have meetings to figure out what we could do...ice them, heat them, brace them, realign them, and my least favorite, rest them. It may seem silly. As adults, the natural response is to rest what needs rest. But I just couldn't do that. I couldn't let my team, myself, or my coach down. No one was ever proud the way Murphy was. He saw my struggles (physically, academically, etc) and saw that I let it all go on the court, and he was proud. My parents couldn't make every game, so instead, I looked to the bench for my support. And it was always there.
Then the worst: I needed surgery. Murphy was the first one I called. He knew my knees were bad and that I needed it. Sidenote: I literally couldn't get out of my car or out of bed at times because the pain was so bad. The swelling was so much that I'd have to realign my knee caps once or twice a month because it was like they would float off course. But I didn't ever let my parents see me get out of bed in the middle of the night to saran wrap ice packs to my knees, or the crying hot baths with Epsom Salt, or the Dr.'s appts to adjust my knees. But Murph knew. He's the one that helped get the Cho-Pats (knee braces to keep the tendons and knee caps in place). We met up before I had to go to Vegas to get the surgeries (and throughout that summer as well), and he brought me a present. Above all, he knew my biggest worry: I didn't want to get super fat being in a wheel chair and never be able to run again...LOL bare with me, it was high school. So he got me the book from Oprah's Book Club, French Women Don't Get Fat. We set goals, and I was off. June 25-August 13 I could not bend my legs. Basketball started November 1. I was determined to play. My surgeon told me it was highly unlikely and it would probably take two years. I refused to accept that. I went to every practice, every game, and was on every bus ride.
--posing for a picture at a home game, where we were both about to sit on the bench for the night...
Finally, February came and we made it to state. At the half time of the game before ours I got my medical release. I was under strict "40-40-40 Rule. Sash, we're either up by 40, down by 40, or have 40 seconds left, and then you'll go in. You don't need to be injured for any reason." I started the 4th quarter of the last game of the season...we were down by more than 40. Those dang reservation kids. They're out of the womb and handed a basketball and running shoes. But Murph was again...proud.
--I'm glad I'm a nerd and keep everything. Here's the article written by our JV Coach, Brian, about our state game.
--Finally, Murphy and I at Prom. Again, can't find Junior year...other wise, ALEX ROBIE!!! You and I, both, would be in this picture! :)
Yay for you're friend/mentor! It sure sounds like you had a lot of gt (good times, yeah I'm trying to make it a thing) in high school. It is a little weird to me though that you still keep in touch with him, but you gotta do what you gotta do.
ReplyDeleteHaha...wow. I didn't even know all these details. There for sure weren't any Mormons on THAT basketball team.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about the Navajos, though. They play some ferocious basketball. In their yards they all have stray dogs, a broke-down car, a satellite dish AND...you guessed it...a basketball hoop.
How's THAT for profiling!
It says my comment was published, but...ummm...its not there. How did your computer know I was going to be racist? Big Brother is watching me.
ReplyDeleteHaha...and now it shows up, and I am obligated to write YET ANOTHER comment. All this one is going to say is:
ReplyDelete"I'M CLINICALLY INSANE!"