Dear Ms. Caiaccia,

Thanks for yelling at me, and pushing me to be the best I could be.

Looking back now, I appreciate the laps you forced me to run around the gym during practice, even if my face did not express that then. You stayed on me if my effort or focus was not there, and attempted to eliminate bad habits like if I put my head down or passed up a shot you had kept telling me to take. No shortcuts. No excuses. I depend on that grit and toughness now as I play in college. I hold myself to the high expectations you helped me mold for myself, keeping in mind how you taught me to always strive for better and embodying a will to win in all of my actions.

Thanks for believing in me.

Because you thought I could achieve, I thought I could too, and I left high school with more confidence in my game than I’d ever had before. I can still remember sitting on the bench in the huddle during a crucial part of the game, and you designing a play for me to take the last shot. If I made it, you told me you knew I had it in me. And if I didn’t come through, you told me to keep my head up, because the opportunity would come again. It always did. Your confidence in me evolved into trust. You pushed me to step up and be a leader on the team, to always play a larger role. No Coach ever envisioned greatness for me as you did.

Thanks for supporting me and having my back, from day one until now.

From advice you gave me when I was struggling with college decisions to driving multiple hours to see one of my college games. You’ve committed to being in my life for the long-term. Basketball is a game, and of course we will always be bonded through that. However, our relationship transcends the court; it crosses over into family, and I am very grateful.

Thanks for laughing with me and at me, for humbling me, and for being a friend.

Love,

#24