My Personal Best
- John Wooden
In the final seconds of the 1928 Indiana state high school championship, with Martinsville leading by one point, Muncie Central’s Charlie Secrist flung a desperation underhand shot from half-court that literally went up to the rafters and came down straight through the hoop. It was impossible.
Here’s how impossible it was: in my forty years of coaching basketball at Dayton High School, South Bend Central, Indiana State Teachers College, and UCLA, I never saw anyone make that shot again in competition. But I did see it once – Saturday night, March 17, 1928, in the final seconds of the Indiana state high school championship. Martinsville lost 13-12. Muncie Central fans were nearly hysterical at the buzzer.
In our locker room afterward, the Artesians, stunned and almost grieving, sat on the benches holding towels over their faces as they wept. Charlie Secrist’s last-second shot had been crushing, and all of the players just quietly lowered their heads and cried. All but one.
I couldn’t cry. The loss hurt me deeply inside, but I also knew I’d done the best I could do. Disappointed? Yes. Devastated or depressed? No. Dad taught us on the farm, “Don’t worry about being better than somebody else, but never cease trying to be the best you can be.” I had done that. Now as a member of the Martinsville Artesians basketball team, Dad’s instructions and example were put to the test.
You lose, you feel bad – sometimes very, very bad. But a much worse feeling is knowing that you haven’t done everything you possible could have done to prepare and compete.
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