A great night of b'ball turns sour
By Brian Stanley


Posted on January 1, 0001 12:00 AM



Brian is a 1994 graduate of Logan County High School where he played sports. He is an accountant with Logan Telephone Cooperative in his hometown of Auburn.

Like many kids who grow up in Kentucky, at least half of the memories tucked away in my head are basketball related. I was only nine years old, but I will never forget the magical moments from the 1984 Logan County High School state championship basketball team. One that stands out is Fred Tisdale giving a piece of the net to faithful fan and wheelchair bound Robert Beauchamp on the floor of Diddle Arena after winning the regional tournament. Choosing from 1984, UK basketball, and my personal memories from teams that I played on and coached was a difficult task.

I believe the year was 1989. I was a 7th grader at Auburn Middle School and the county tournament had just ended. Lewisburg was hosting a post-season 6th and 7th grade tournament in their newly constructed gym, and Coach Dennis Pardue asked me to play on the team from Auburn. We rolled through the first rounds of the tournament and into the championship game.

I was usually a fair basketball player, scoring 4-10 points per game in my short basketball career. On this night; however, I was dominant while scoring from all areas of the floor. No one could stop me. I was a man amongst boys. The ruckus crowd of 50 was chanting my name. I especially noticed the row of cute girls from Lewisburg cheering for me. I could do no wrong. I was the next Rex Chapman. Coach Tim Owens, who coached JV at Logan County High at the time, was there. He must have been impressed. My mom and dad were in the stands as they usually were, but I remember thinking that I would ride the team bus home that night in case the younger players needed some advice on how to shoot the ball.

I played very hard that game. Hydration was not stressed as it is today, but I was quite thirsty and drank several cups of water at each time-out. At each stoppage of play, I requested more and more water. I was playing well, and I deserved to have my thirst quenched. After the game was well in hand, Coach Pardue replaced me with a sub. I waived to the applauding crowd as I took a seat on the bench.

My perfect night was about to end. Unexpectedly, I felt a rumble in my stomach. What was happening? I’m sure I had a horrific look on my face as I placed my hands over my mouth. I attempted to form a leak-proof cup with my hands by bending and tightening my fingers and forming them around my mouth, but there was no containing the gallons of water that my body could not handle. The tighter I squeezed, the more the fluid sprayed out onto the gym floor and onto my teammates sitting next to me on the bench. In an act of desperation, I sprinted in front of the opposing teams bench and into the locker room, leaving a trail behind me.

While I was in the locker room, Coach Owens came to check on me. I’m sure he could tell how embarrassed I was, and he asked if I was OK and told me how well I had played. He did not add to my humiliation by discussing the accident, and I appreciated that. Coach Pardue acted like it never happened. I still rode the bus home that night, but gave no shooting advice to anyone. I sat there quietly, and vowed never to drink water while playing basketball again. That’s when I discovered Gatorade.


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