The Locker Room After We Won State
I graduated high school 6 years ago and I still think about the night we won state at least once a week.
We weren't supposed to win. We were the 4-seed. The team we played in the finals had beaten us twice in the regular season and their center was 6'8" and going D1. Our tallest guy was 6'3" and going to community college (love you Marcus).
The game was tied with 14 seconds left. Coach drew up a play for our shooting guard. The play broke down immediately. Our point guard panicked, threw it to me in the corner — I was the LAST person who should've had the ball in that situation — and I put up the ugliest three-pointer you've ever seen. It went in.
The gym exploded. Our bench cleared. The student section rushed the court. I got tackled by six guys simultaneously. Someone ripped my jersey (I still have it, rip and all). Coach was crying. Our assistant coach was crying. The principal was crying. I was in shock.
The locker room after was the purest moment of joy I've ever experienced. 15 guys screaming, laughing, crying, hugging. Nobody was too cool for anything. The toughest guy on our team had tears running down his face and nobody said a word about it because everyone understood.
We went to Waffle House at 1am still in our uniforms. The whole restaurant cheered when we walked in. We ate like kings. I had a triple waffle with everything on it. Best meal of my life.
I know this might sound sad but I genuinely don't think I'll ever feel that again. That specific combination of surprise, disbelief, brotherhood, and total euphoria. Six years later and the group chat is still active. We still call each other by our jersey numbers sometimes. It's the thing that made us a family.