Late afternoon today, I will enter the Jacksonville high school 'Bowl.' It is a gymnasium, which sits beneath ground-level; when one walks into the facility at street level one is positioned at the 'top' of the Bowl's bleachers. The oval-shaped arena was erected in the early l950's and offered a 'head-of-its-time' architectural venue. It seats approximately 2,500 and not nary a bad seat for viewing a basketball contest. The Bowl is used for volleyball games, graduations and community functions and many locals benefit from 'walking' the upper concourse during the winter months.
The Bowl was my coaching-home for twenty-one seasons. My teams played over 500 games there and I suspect I conducted over two-thousand practices on that floor. Most opposing coaches hold disdain for the unusual high school gym due to the fact that the baskets sit out on long single-arm poles with no background-wall; the crowd surrounds the floor and the acoustics can be unnerving for visitors. The Bowl simply offers a great home court advantage. Someone once did a statistical analysis attempting to ascertain the actual basketball home court point advantage. The study concluded that six points went to the homeboys at tip-off. If that is the factual case, give the Jacksonville high school Crimsons nine points when the game begins at the Bowl.
I could continue with a litany of physical characteristics of The Bowl and lace into the story some very special, if not incredible games played there. However, I wish that I could bottle a feeling experienced by every JHS Crimsons basketball player from the first contest ever played at the Bowl to the last. Ask former players and current players to describe how it feels to descend the back stairs off the varsity locker room and walk down into the tunnel, hearing the jazz band playing the school's 'fight-song' as Crimsons' players run onto the Bowl floor to begin warm-ups. Whatever they express, you will understand just why I wish to bottle that feeling and share it with everyone in Jacksonville.
However today, I will enter The Bowl to experience a much different 'feeling.' Many old friends will be there along with family and several of my former players. They gather to pay respects to the Bobby Hoffman family and bid farewell to the Crimsons' assistant basketball coach who died unexpectedly at age 41. While I wait my turn to speak my words of praise for Coach Hoffman, I shall close my eyes and allow a myriad of memories to rush through my thoughts. I shall recall a little boy at youth camps at the Bowl; I will see #24, Bobby Hoffman clapping hands in staccato-style rhythm with teammates as they leave the dressing room to go onto that Bowl floor. I shall recall just last season standing court side with Bobby before the Quincy game as his wife, Kristan snapped our photo. I will whisper a prayer of gratitude that I had the chance to coach Bobby Hoffman and call him, 'one of my boys.'
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