This week starts the insanity that is district basketball tournament action in Kentucky. The flowers are starting to creep out, the grass is somewhat greener, and hope springs eternal in the eye of every high school player in the state. This time next week most will have played their last game of basketball, and the next week, just about as many will have, as well. But, for this small window, glory and immortality is alive with promise.
After all these years, I remember, as if it was yesterday, the thrill of the fans, and the "butterflies" that came with that one moment of competition. Caravans of school buses, followed by many more cars, wended their way through the back country of rural Kentucky, knowing you would probably lose, but just maybe, you might be witness to something great. I still hear the screams of the crowd and the friendly faces of the cheerleaders, seemingly the only allies you had. I still remember the tears that followed the inevitable loss that all but very few will never feel. My one consolation was, that at least tomorrow I could start thinking about baseball season.
So, if you want to recapture some of the nostalgia that lives in the back of all of our minds, go to a game, there's surely one playing near you. Feel the excitement, enjoy the pageantry, smell the odor of apprehension, and watch the show. Each spring the same scenario plays out at a high school gym near you. You might be surprised at the memories that come storming back.
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