The Beat Goes On

Mr. Edmund Kanaya was my band teacher at Washington Intermediate School in seventh grade. He was legendary. He was always calm. We'd rehearse. And rehearse. And rehearse. He would hear something out of sync, stop us and return to Measure 67 (or whatever) and we'd start again. He kept doing that every single day all year.

I played tuba. Not a lot of tubas in our band. Or any band at that level. By eighth grade, I was "touring" with our ninth graders in our concerts at Lunalilo, Ala Wai, Kuhio, Kaahumanu elementary schools. That was cool and fun. Mr. Kanaya had retired by then, but he taught us something more than notes and crescendos. He taught us the absolute necessities of teamwork, timing, precision and, most of all, repetition.

I played sports during those years, and though I didn't understand or even perceive what was going on, all my coaches had the same approach. Repetition. Fundamentals. Seeing improvement was a real confidence boost, but before the improvement came, the work had to be done every day.

In eighth grade, there was a free-throw contest at McCully gym, where our league had games. So I dedicated myself to practicing. A dude on TV did a clinic and that helped me sharpen up my shooting form. I wasn't great, but I won the contest (18-for-25) and learned again that repetition and fundamentals matter. That dude on TV (I don't know who he was) also taught the basic triple-threat jab step, and after I started practicing it, I beat almost all the kids who used to beat me 1-on-1 at the park, including the older ones.

Some kids aren't prepared or willing to go through the daily repetition. Some are. I'm realistic. At best, I hope I can be like Mr. Kanaya and just usher our players forward each day, one rep, one measure, one note at a time. Unlike Mr. Kanaya, I don't have players who are required to be at every rehearsal, every practice. For the kids who stick it out, the benefit is theirs and the benefit is for their teammates. The guys who had great work ethic through middle school are playing college and high school ball now, still working hard, still striving. The ones who were most dedicated and diligent — working out with their team, working out on their own, putting in the hours — have received the greatest fruits.

So, whatever happens day to day, it's easy for an old coach like me to forget sometimes: for every young player who isn't dedicated, is a no-show at games or practices, who says yes, I'm there for the team and really isn't, there are other kids who have grown into amazing young men and women. It wasn't to impress anyone. It's just who they chose to become. I have no power over that, never will. But I'll be there on the court, balls in the bag, rain or shine, ready to help.

That's my role. That, and to make tough decisions sometimes. No decisions to be made right now. Just roll out the basketballs and go to work.