When Big Novak went down, the first thing I thought about was her mother.  Scanning the half-empty stands I spotted her on the other side, in the top row with a knot of other mothers, head in her hands, staring at the court in shock, concern and disbelief – waiting like the rest of us for some word. 

Could this possibly be happening?  Again? 

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Girl’s high school basketball is its own animal.  As the players warm up and go through their pre-game drills there is a noticeable lack of the choreographed preening and NBA posturing of the boys.  But there is also a lack of speed and fluidity.  The girls are a little more awkward than the boys, but more outwardly exuberant.  Braces flash and pony-tails fly from hair pulled back in every conceivable fashion, Odd, two-handed, chest-pump jump shots fly into the basket from all corners of the court with remarkable accuracy.    The girls weave in and out on offense like pros and stay completely focused on defense.  It is a passing, ball-control game that plays the percentages.

The mother has three daughters on the high school team  –  a senior, a junior and a freshman.   I could recall their names if I really wanted to but I prefer to refer to them simply as “Big Novak”, “Middle Novak”, and “Little Novak.”  They are not particularly tall girls – none is a six-footer - but all are fast and athletic.  In many ways they form the core of the team.  Mom drives them tirelessly to all of their practices and attends all of their games, in addition to the games of her junior high son.  She is the epitome of the modern “soccer mom”.

When the season started, Big and Middle were starters on the varsity while Little was a key member of the junior varsity.  Big was a bona fide star.  She wasn’t actually that big, but her natural athleticism and competitiveness allowed her to maneuver up and down the court amongst the other players with ease.  Her skills in both soccer and basketball had attracted considerable interest from local and regional colleges, and it was rumored that a scout was in the stands that night. 

Middle was also beginning to gather similar notice.But a few weeks into the season, Middle went down with a serious knee injury.  Further x-rays and MRI scans proved it to be a torn ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) – a horrible injury that is the dread of all athletes.  She would need to undergo surgery and her season, if not her entire athletic career, would effectively be over.  She gamely dressed in her uniform, wore a knee brace to the games, and served as the defacto  team cheerleader, but she couldn’t play… so Little was brought up from the junior varsity as a freshman to get her first minutes as a varsity player.

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It was a tight game.  There was a huge rivalry between the two schools and this game had far-reaching implications not only for the league standings but for the post season tournament as well.  Both teams battled for every possession.  While the big girls fought for control under the basket, smaller players, some barely five feet tall, continued to pump in long-distance three-pointers with deadly accuracy.  When a loose ball bounced suddenly into the cheerleader’s seats, the cheerleaders scattered in sissy panic, afraid to touch the ball.  The player who came over to inbound the ball looked at them like they are aliens.  Meanwhile, Big Novak, showing athleticism and grace, continued to knife through knots of players, dropping in delicate lay-ups.The game was close.  It would go down to the wire.

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Like most everyone else, I had seen the battle for the rebound and had followed the subsequent fast break down court in the other direction, not realizing that she was down until the referee blew the play dead.  Suddenly all attention was directed to the other end of the court.  Only then did I see Big Novak writhing in pain on the polished floor beneath the basket, her face contorted, rolling back and forth.

She was holding her knee.

For the longest time she laid on the floor surrounded by trainers and team doctors.  They were working on the knee.  Eventually she was helped to her feet, and with assistance, she hobbled to the bench.  The gymnasium filled with appreciative, supportive applause, but the mother maintained her vigil.  In all this time she had not moved, watching the court helplessly from atop her perch in the top row.  On the bench the trainers continued to work on the knee, and to everyone’s surprise, Big Novak returned to the game late in the final quarter, although she wasn’t a factor and the game was eventually lost.    Little Novak saw limited action. 

Later that night, Big Novak awoke with a swollen and painful knee.  The symptoms were almost identical to those of Middle Novak.  With her athletic career now also in jeopardy, Big Novak goes in this week for an MRI.   Meanwhile, her mother continues to ferry her daughters (and sons) to practices, games…  and medical appointments.

©2012, Jeff L. Howe, all rights

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