Basketball

My Career

I was never much into sports when I was young because I spent most of my free time riding and showing horses. Four-H ment more to me at that time and it wasn't until my high school years (4-H ceased to exist when we moved north) that I really started to take the sport serious. My parents never pushed me into anything despite the fact that my dad had played every sport imaginable and my mom was a top bowler and gymnist. I first got into basketball when I was in Seventh grade because I figured if the people on T.V. could do it, then I could too.

I'll never forget the first day of practice. I thought (I had never even touched a basketball before this) ok, I'll just give it a go and see what happens. Shocking all but my parents, I made the team after the first week. To this day, I don't know what the coach saw in me, but looking back, I am glad that she gave me the chance to prove myself. Since I was the tallest person on the team at the time, I was automatically made the center...and I have never been anything else since. I am occassionally allowed to play the Power Forward position, but mainly (because I can take a beating) I am a center. With my final year approaching fast I am hoping to change that.

In high school, I got the number 31 and for some reason I have been partial to it ever since. I started out on J.V. the first two years but also played in Varsity games as well (my sophomore year). I discovered rather quickly that my strength was rebounding and to this day, there has not been one year I haven't lead the leading rebounding list. But for the first four years, I cared little about such things because I just wanted to play. As I have gotten older, my goals have changed. With time my techniques sharpened and my aggression on the court began to carry over into my schoolwork. Every year, a new challenge came at me and going into my senior year, I was on about as high a cloud as can be seen.

Even on that high cloud, a problem that has continued to plagued to this day, is poor coaching and quarreling teammates. High school was the worst because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't please anybody. After a while I was ready to give up, because I just couldn't give any more. My grades began suffering and I had no self esteem--that feeling I will never forget as it was so heavy, it felt like I was walking around with a ton of bricks on my shoulder. The one thing that saved me, was a clipping from the newspaper my mom showed me one day. It read, "...continues to show her dominance by scoring 18 points and also grabbing 18 rebounds. My mom began a scrapbook my sophomore year to give me hope. She successfully used it to boost my spirits and to prove that people took notice of all my hard work.

By my senior year, my scrapbook was so big it was overflowing. It's hard to believe that something like "my book" had helped me recover from a debilitating "disease." Every little article I read about my achievements boosted my spirits and built up my confidence. After playing in tournaments over the summer, I felt that nothing would stop me from having a banner year in the fall. That year however, turned out to be rather interesting.

There was a sophomore that made the Varsity team with more natural talent than I could ever have, but she was playing with the wrong attitude. I loved to play because it motivated me in other things and it was fun. She played because she saw it as a way to get her name in the paper and "be noticed"; she was only playing for the glory. More teams have been torn apart by that than anything (and believe me I have seen them all) else. In a way the competition was good, but after a while, it became ridiculous. I ended up working harder than ever and though we both ended up the team's leading scorers, somehow it just wasn't right.

On a brighter note, one of the best games I will ever play in, occured that year; I would score 30 points, grab 18 rebounds, and shoot a perfect 8-for-8 from the free throw line. Oddly enough, it was against our archrival--a team that I never scored less than 14 points against (no matter where we played them) in four years.

In our first meeting that year, my 27 points and 22 rebounds could not over come the team's sloppy play and we lost by five in the closing seconds. The next time we met, I was convinced that we would blow them away. By the time the rematch rolled around, anticipation was sky high. My mistake when I walked into the gym that night, was looking for the referees that would call our game. I frowned when I saw who one of the two was. To make a long story short, this guy had it out for me the entire year, and I couldn't figure out why. I told myself to forget about him and just play all out. Little did I know that would trigger a chain reaction that would ultimately determine whether or not I would finish out the game on the bench or on the court.

After a missed shot attempt from our rival, I jumped up and grabbed a rebound but upon coming down, my left foot somehow became entangled in a lone defender's jersey. I managed to wrestle it free without travelling, but she fell over and the Referee blew his whistle. When he called me for an Offensive foul, I was so mad that I turned my back and threw the basketball at him (though meant unintentionally)--and it hit him right center in the back of his head. He slapped me right then and there with my first Technical Foul and I went to the bench steaming. Upon coming back into the game, I declined the invitation to entertain him with his blowing the whistle for another foul. I never stopped my assault on the basket and I took no prisoners with my actions. I finished that game on a high that lasted for several weeks, but it was also a game that I learned a lot from.

Fast forwarding to College level basketball. I had the opportunity to play for several Division One schools but decided to go to a smaller school where I would get a better education. That smaller school became Dominican College, located in San Rafael, California, just 20 minutes north of San Francisco. Numbering some 900 students when I first came, they now have just under 1500 in just two short years. The school's claim to fame is one of their oldest lecture halls (Guzman) being the center for the Indiana Jones movies. If you look at the scenes at the beginning of each episode with the school and classrooms, they belong to Dominican. Pretty interesting side note considering George Lucas lives only 5 minutes north of there.

Immediately from the start, it was a struggle as everything bombarded me at once. Luckily for me, I tend to adjust to intense situations rather quick. I came into the smallest membered team than I will ever play on (8) but that did not deter me as I was determined to play at the highest level possible. Little did I know that this would be the finest year ever for me. That season, I broke 8 school records--mostly rebounding--and made many believers out of the critics. Because of my size, many people believed that I couldn't run. Unfortunately for them they didn't notice that I also used to run Track and Field in high school and was pretty good in any event I entered. My coach found that out early in the season and never second guessed me again. I averaged just a tick shy of 14 points and 13 rebounds a game, but I grabbed 324 rebounds (school record--and more than double the amount of anyone else), recorded 21 double--doubles (record), had a streak of 12 games with 10 or more rebounds (record), highest average (record), and there were others as well. What surprised me the most was that I did all of this in only 25 games. We recorded a 16-9 record that year.

Something that I had always wanted to do but had yet to, was win the game in the final seconds. I got my chance in the National Small College Championships Semi Finals. Being the smallest numbered team at the tournament, we quickly became the laughing stock of the audience. Little did they realize that that only made us more determined to win. In a game that came down to the final seconds, the crowd was hushed beyond belief at our determination to win. We won many a fan that day, and even now, they remain the strongest bunch of cheerleaders that we have ever had. With the game tied at 65, and 10 seconds on the clock, I was passed the ball and in a sweeping motion put my infamous turnaround jumper moce on my defender and let the ball fly. At first I thought I had overshot it and sent us into overtime, but it swished through the net with less than 4 seconds on the clock. After a time out, the opposing team threw it up court and heaved a hail mary, but it bounced off the back of the rim and fell out...leaving us with a victory and a feeling that just cannot be repeated or explained. We were going to the Finals with a chance to bring home a national championship. We fell but five points shy of that attempt, but to me proving the doubters wrong meant more than a title. I was named to the All-Conference and All-Tournament Teams, but the satisfaction of my performances in those games meant far more to me.

The summer of 1996 is a year that I would rather forget. In a short span of 3 months, I tore my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) in my right knee in a international tournament in Barcelona; lost my car in a horrific six car accident; had reconstructive surgery on my knee; therapy; and to top it all, my parents decided now was as good a time as any to get braces. The week before my operation, I worked an unbelievable 80 hours. I had to earn some money for books in the fall as the entire month of August would be shot.

After completing my freshman year in college, I received a letter of congratulation for my outstanding achievement in sports from the World Sports Exchange. They were inviting me to participate in an international tournament for Track and Field. At first I was extremely excited, but then, I was overly concerned because I hadn't done anything relating to that sport for over a year and I was worried that I would injure myself. So I opted to play Basketball instead. I flew over and played in Spain the same night I got in and played rather well. The next day we had off and toured the city. On the third day in Spain, I was playing in my second game against a bigger Russian team. About five minutes into the game, I was in foul trouble and sat down on the bench. When I finally did come back in, I had only run up and down the court twice when I caught a pass. I went to pivot so that I could pass the ball and instead of moving, my right foot stuck to the floor while the rest of me turned in a swift motion. About five seconds later, I heard a tremendous crack and then a pop. I fell to the floor in extreme pain and that was the end of my basketball that summer. X-rays couldn't reveal what was later diagnosed as a completely shreaded Anterior Cruciate Liagment (ACL). I was scheduled to undergo surgery on August 5, 1996.

No less than two weeks later, I was involved in a horrifying car accident that saw me loose my car and any mental stability I had left. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance (despite my protests) as a precautionary measure, but in the end I suffered only minor injuries. My car, looked like someone had taken a can opener and peeled away the front right side down to the begginning stages of construction. We eventually got a replacement car and decided that American cars were not for us anymore. Six cars in all were involved, mine being the worst. The person who had caused the accident fled the scene and was later let go and given a "warning."

Surgery and braces followed within three weeks time. I began rehabilitation no less than two weeks after surgery, and it continued well into the summer of my junior year in college. With the strong support of therapists and my doctor, I worked endless hours to regain the strength and agility I had lost. I was running within one month of surgery, running full out sprints within three months, and beginning contact practice within the same month. I was actually cleared to play in December of 1996, but the school's trainer, told me to wait until the first of January, as it would give me another month to get all the gears fine tuned. Looking back on it, I am glad I did wait.

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