None of these moments comes from script

Grab a cup of coffee – or if you’re younger than 24, a Gatorade – and let’s talk.

The prep basketball season is winding down. The next time we get to chat, it will be over. Spring sports, or as they are called around here, the freeze-your-(nose)-off sports, will be two weeks into practice.

So let’s talk about the past season.

What made you smile? Laugh out loud? Renew your faith in humanity?

OK, the last one’s a reach, but there was a lot to celebrate from the past four months, and I’m not just talking about wins – though of course that played into it.

I have my list.

The passion small towns have for hoops. It hit me again this past week, basketball is more important in our rural communities. I know I’m not writing anything groundbreaking here, but it needs to be reiterated. There were a lot of scenes from “Hoosiers” that ring true today. The barber shop, the new coach’s first practice, the non-athlete making a big free throw.

From seniors who have seen every local game since they returned from Korea, to the radio announcer who has called more travels than Charley, to the player whose haircut is done by the same barber who cut his dad’s hair – and maybe Gramps as well – the game has united – and sometimes divided – small towns. It still does.

Hoops passion lives, and it has a rural route address.

Kids just love to play. This one knows no geography, race or economics. You watch enough games and you see the enjoyment kids get from playing. Sure, losses hurt. Dumb mistakes hurt. Screaming parents hurt.

But the game brings joy. Just watch a kid who has driven the lane, avoided two defenders and squeezed through a shot that spins off the backboard and in. When they pull themselves off the floor, they smile.

It’s a smile of wonder. Of joy. Of being 16.

The capacity of adults to be one of the kids – at least for a while. I think back to the spirit games, and the audacity of some of the costumes worn by coaches and administrators. By letting their hair down – and let me tell you, some of the administrators haven’t had hair to let down since the Reagan years – they left a lasting impression on all the students – and gave them something to talk with their psychologist about when they’re 40.

Inventive students who never stop. It’s obvious most students who attend their schools’ games are there for the social aspect. They watch the game, sure, but they would just as much prefer to talk to the girl next to them.

Then there are the hard-core fans. They scream, they jump up and down, they scream, they wear funny shirts, they scream – heck, they sweat as much as the point guard. They may never get a letter, (now that’s an idea – if you can get a letter for debate, how about one for fan participation?) but I’ve seen some of them take clutch free throws in the stands.

The parental bond is always there. Sure, there are parents who live vicariously through their kids. There are the pushers and the shovers and the Svengalis, but I’m more convinced than ever they are in the minority.

Watch the postgame. Win or lose, there are parents waiting on the court for their child. Star or goat, they are there to offer a hug, a pat, a word of support. Play or sit, they stand patiently, car keys in one hand, a rolled-up program in the other, just to let their child know they care.