It’s been 10 years and I still miss my friend
Editor’s Note: This story was originally published Tuesday, June 4, 2013. It’s being republished here on the 10-year anniversary of the passing of my friend, Gerald Tabor.
I awoke Tuesday morning. Logged into my Facebook account and my spirits instantly fell.
Gerald Tabor had passed away during the night.
Here in North Carolina, Gerald Tabor’s name means nothing.
He was a girls basketball coach and taught history at a medium-sized high school in rural western Kentucky, where coal is king and corn runs a close second. I grew up in this small town, attended his history class and swam at the community pool he helped oversee during the summers. After graduation and landing a job in newspapers, I spent many a nights in the stands watching his teams compete on the hardwood.
One very talented squad won a Kentucky state championship and featured a Miss Basketball. And there were several regional champions in there as well. But there also seemed to be far more teams that finished with records of 8-16 or 13-11 during those years he spent working the sidelines at the Union County High School gym.
In Kentucky, basketball reigns supreme. College basketball, especially the University of Kentucky, can be seen on TVs and heard on radios from Pikeville to Paducah. The University of Louisville numbers a large base of fans, and you also have the grads and small school sympathizers who cheer for the other state schools such as Western Kentucky University and Murray State University.
In Kentucky, you are largely associated with “who you pull for.”
High school boys basketball has a similar draw. The state remains one of the few in the nation who crown just one state champion and, though attendance has lagged in recent years with college games on TV most nights and other entertainment options, the state tournament’s Sweet 16 at Lexington’s Rupp Arena and Louisville’s Freedom Hall were a true spectacle and a “must-have ticket” each spring.
But girls basketball? It ranks a very distant third.
And at a rural school on a cold and wet Monday night in late January where you have a junior varsity/varsity girls doubleheader, the stands are littered with a few hardy souls – mainly family, a couple friends, the team manager, scorekeeper and one unfortunate sportswriter who drew the short stick.
Basically, those who coach girls basketball at this level are not doing it for the money. Nor the fame.
They are simply doing it for the love of the game.
And that was Gerald Tabor.
I was there, off to the side, as Coach Tabor watched the members of his state championship squad cut down the nets in Bowling Green’s Diddle Arena one Saturday night in mid-March in 1996. There was a smile across his face, but you could almost feel a sense of relief and weariness radiating from him.
This had been a long time coming. There were plenty of times when his squads were on the wrong end of a 25-point blowout. A couple of seasons of first-round losses in the district tournament.
Yet, he remained. Teaching the fundamentals. Teaching teamwork. Teaching loyalty and perseverance.
He truly cared for each member of his team, whether they were a state champion or a squad that finished below .500.
On the day I heard the news that Coach Tabor had died, I read that Louisville men’s basketball coach Rick Pitino was planning to unveil Maker’s Mark bourbon bottles bearing his face and achievements.
Sure, Connecticut women’s coach Geno Auriemma has won eight Division One national championships and been named Coach of the Year on six occasions. Say the words Pat Summitt, and you instantly recall the victories and national titles won at Tennessee.
Say the name Gerald Tabor.
And the former players and his many friends and family say the life lessons he instilled in them and left them with are far greater than any bourbon bottle or national championship.
They’ll say he was simply Coach.