One of my initial goals in starting this season was to install a “pride” drill in the team and the athletic community here for the winter season. We call it “Spartan Pride Drill.” We engaged this drill with the wrestling program in the padded room in order to foster a sense of community spirit and pride. No surprise, the drill was an instant success. Both programs seemed to feed off the high-energy environment in the pre-season, which the drill works to reinforce. My excitement to begin this journey was overwhelming at the time and really reinforced all the reasons for my acceptance into this position, in this school, at this time.
Once the season began we brought this same energy to the gym every day, in practice and in early season contests. The difficult part was that all of our beginning games were on the road and we couldn’t feed off the energy that usually takes hold of a team in the home setting from the fans and community. You can imagine my personal excitement when the time finally came to open the season at home. What better way to start than to open with the high powered, much maligned TC Williams Titans.
In the locker room before we stepped onto the court, I had planned an entire opening about what it means to be a SPARTAN. What the legacy of this school has brought to the community over decades of competition and success (well before I was even born), and what it has meant to so many over that span of time. One of my assistants even had a “300” Spartans Poster (catered specifically to basketball) made that hangs over the entrance door to the gym as a reminder of this prideful representation of a warrior-like mentality. You can imagine the adrenaline that rushed through my body on taking the floor for the first time with my team.
What proceeded to occur over the next 90 minutes is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, and I couldn’t have envisioned in my worst nightmare. The opposition crowd, which came in solid numbers, camped right behind our own home bench and unleashed a furious verbal assault on me, my staff, the team and the home crowd, which almost broke the prideful spirit that we had worked so hard to instill over the previous four months. Verbal profanity, individual name-calling and slanderous remarks, and even guest appearances in our home huddle were just a few of the examples that we endured on our own side of the floor. It was difficult at times to even disseminate necessary information both on and off the court due to the crowd noise and heckling that ensued for the duration of the game.
Through all of this, our team fought back down 20 in the first quarter to close the gap to just 12 at the half, holding the high-powered Titans to just two field goals over the entire second period. In an attempt to salvage any kind of emotion out of our own fans, I ran to the home crowd and pumped my arms and yelled desperately to get the fire started for us on our home floor. These attempts (yes more than one) were met with an uncomfortable silence that you would normally feel and witness when you meet the parents of your girlfriend (or boyfriend) for the first time.
The emotion and intensity that I had envisioned from this environment was non-existent and I angrily stormed in the locker room with a feeling of rejection from my own family. The egg that I felt washing down my face from my intense emotion in the pre-game led to embarrassment as I attempted to address the team.
The second half of the game was met with equal disdain as the opposition’s fans circled the waters like a group of sharks about to partake in a feeding frenzy off of their helpless prey. It ended with the opposition’s fan base parading around our own Sports Lobby chanting “THIS IS OUR HOUSE” with the intention of disrespecting everything sacred that surrounds this institution, its history and its current community involvement. It was a shameful display of unsportsmanlike behavior from our opponents as well as our own ability to show pride and support for the team, student body and the adults that encompass the WS community.
I graduated from Fairfax High School in the early ’90s. During my tenure there, WS stood for something proud and respectful, and was known as a place that opponents NEVER wanted to compete at because of that prideful existence.
In my short few months here, I have to ask, where has that Spartan pride gone? How can we, as the WS community, expect any improvement of the current conditions if we don’t try to be part of the solution instead of being part of the problem? It is very defeating and humbling to witness your own home (one that we spend so much time in) become a serious disadvantage to the accomplishment of the goals and spirit that our boys (and myself) want so much for this school and its community. On Friday we fought two opponents, a battle that the “300” Spartans of history couldn’t have overcome on their best and most valiant day.
We will soon be wearing T-shirts around the school outlining what I hope is a “rebirth” of Spartan Pride. I pray we are not alone in this endeavor.
