Most anyone you ask has a sports memory that’s near and dear to them, whether it was a game they saw or played in. We asked readers to share theirs, and here are some of our favorites.
Winning Baskets
A few years ago I had the pleasure of witnessing the best show of sportsmanship ever. I was at a girls’ basketball game in Elizabeth City. Near the end of the game, the other team put in a player who obviously wanted to play and be a part of the team but lacked skill. Her teammates quickly passed the ball to her and blocked our team so she could get a shot. Well, she missed. Her teammates caught the rebound and stepped up their encouragement to her. Our girls quickly caught on to what was happening and also began encouraging her.
The girl shot again … and missed. Our girls got the rebound but passed it to this young lady. She went to shoot again but before she did, one of our girls repositioned her so she could hopefully make the basket. This time, she made it, and the gym went wild — BOTH sides were cheering.
At this point, time out was called; we had a young lady who was very similar in skill to the young lady on the other team that our coach put in. We had possession of the ball, and our girls began doing the same thing for the young lady on our team. First attempt, yep, she missed. We caught the rebound, our ladies stepped up the encouragement, and the other team did the same for our young lady. Second attempt, basket missed again. We had seconds left in the game. The ball was given to our girl again and on the third attempt — BASKET MADE!!! Again, the gym went wild. There were cheers all around, as well as many of us in the bleachers with tears in our eyes. I’ve seen many great sports moments, but this particular one tops them all.
World Series Triumph
I’m a transplant to the area (military and work), but even after almost half my life, I’m loyal to the Minnesota teams I grew up with. They’re much maligned for a lack of recent championship runs, but the situation was l different when I was 7 years old in 1991.
That fall, the Twins and the Atlanta Braves played what’s remembered as one of the greatest World Series in baseball history. The legendary Kirby Puckett’s walk-off homer in the 11th inning of game six set up the next night’s game seven triumph for the home team.
The call for that hit, “And we’ll see you tomorrow night!” is in the pantheon of sports announcements.
Even if that’s the last Minnesota championship run I see in my lifetime, it’s worth it for that fist-pumping, hanky-waving epic walk off in the fall classic’s penultimate matchup that cemented the underdogs’ hope in another chance at glory that would not go unfulfilled.
Saving the Flag
In my 83 years of life, I have seen a lot of sporting events. I have seen high school, college and professional games. I have watched baseball games decided in the last inning by a walk-off hit or home run; basketball games decided by a buzzer beater; football games decided by a field goal in overtime.
All of these were great sports moments, but the one moment that will always stand out in my mind as the greatest occurred on April 25, 1976. It was not a game-changing event but a lifetime event for our country.
On that day, in Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, two protesters ran onto left-center field and tried to set fire to an American flag after the start of the fourth inning.
Rick Monday, the Cubs center fielder, ran to the flag and grabbed it up preventing the destruction of the flag. This act by Rick Monday was one of the greatest sports moments ever. It did not change the outcome of the game, but it did change the view of sports enthusiasts, who now have more respect for the American Flag and for an athlete who had the courage to show respect for the flag, his country and baseball.
Treasured UNC Keepsake
My most memorable sports moment took place in 1957 when the North Carolina Tarheels claimed the NCAA National Championship. It might seem unlikely that a 12-year-old girl would be so captivated by a basketball game, but in my high school, basketball reigned supreme.
Watching a college game on our 12-inch Motorola black-and-white television was an exciting event! The win over South Carolina in the ACC tournament was thrilling, but the unforgettable moment came when UNC defeated Kansas for the NCAA Championship. It was an incredible 54-53 victory after three overtimes. The names Lennie Rosenbluth (UNC) and Wilt Chamberlain (Kansas) are etched in my memory, as well as the legendary UNC coach, Frank McGuire.
The Tarheel players were each awarded watches for their part in the championship win, and Coach McGuire received a new Carolina Blue and white Cadillac! I felt like part of the celebration when I received an 8×10 photo in the mail. I don’t quite remember how I knew to send 50 cents in an envelope to get the picture, but I was incredibly proud of it. It’s a treasured keepsake to this day.
A Homerun to Remember
On this spring day, in my 83rd year, my thoughts turn to years playing baseball. Good memories of making the hook-slide into second base, dust in the teeth, the sweet burn of the slide through uniform pants and stirrup socks, the slap-tag of the gloved ball by the fielder.
Playing in youth Babe Ruth League, I was a pitcher and was on the mound one afternoon. Coach Pearson had put me in as starting pitcher, a right-hander with a pretty good fastball. Sometimes I did not have the best control of it, but I kept hearing Coach hollering from the dugout, “Throw hard, Jimmy! Just throw hard!”
I had walked a couple of batters, many of my pitches going inside. Coach finally came out, put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Alright now, Jimmy. You’re throwing too many balls on the inside. Move your right foot to the left on the pitching rubber, about the width of your foot. You’ll get them over the plate.” Well, I did, and it worked! I even started getting some strikeouts.
In later years, playing in a men’s league, I had improved as a hitter and was playing shortstop. When I came up to bat, I was making contact with the ball but kept pulling them foul. Remembering that pitching adjustment, I gave up the 34-inch Micky Mantle model bat for a heavier 36-inch bat with a fat handle. With that bat I hit my one-and-only homerun, over the centerfield fence.
All these years later I can still feel the satisfying pop of that homerun. It feeds my soul even yet.
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