The four of us were crying. In our senior season, we had given it everything we had.

Coach came in to talk to us, and we talked for a while. We were in the locker room hugging and thanking each other for such a good season, but it didn’t change the result. We walked out through the gymnasium of our biggest rival, and all the lights were turned off as everyone had already left. The light that was my high school basketball career had burned out.

As a basketball nut and someone who worked on his game all the time, it meant a lot to me to have represented my high school for four years in competition. I remember the countless hours I spent playing my dad one-on-one, trying to work on my skills for the biggest games. But at my high school, the team needed a lot more than just my play.

My junior year I was moved up to the varsity squad and was fortunate to have started in all 18 games as the point guard, none of which we won. Yep, my junior year, the varsity team went 0-18. I was so devastated and embarrassed all at once. How could this happen to me? I put so much time and effort into this only for these results?

After every lost game, my parents would try to encourage me. “Just have fun with it,” they said, “cause you’re never gonna have this opportunity again after your senior year.” It didn’t help the losing mentality one bit but I did begin to understand it. After all, I was playing a bunch.

Then, coming back for my senior year, we got a new coaching staff, who made sure we were ready for the start of the season. We came out of the gates on fire, with pretty much a similar if not less talented team than the winless year prior. We had a winning record for more than half the season, were competitive in every game, and in spite of a rough losing streak, inched our way into the playoffs. I will never forget how the school rallied behind us as soon as they recognized the heart that our team had.

It was not easy coming back from an 0-18 season. It was just so hard to break that losing mentality that we had collectively as a team. And when our crazy run finally came to an end in the first round of the postseason, all I could do is reflect.

Naturally, of course, I walk away from my high school basketball experience feeling very empty, as if I could have done so much more. Now, in my college days, I try to play pickup games as much as I can, but nothing compares to putting on a jersey and representing your school. Nothing beats playing in front of friends and family with them all collectively cheering for you to succeed.

I still talk to the three seniors I graduated with from last season’s team. And when we talk to each other, it's all about the team we once represented and how we would go back and change things if we could. We all have the same feeling, that we just plain miss it all. We miss our fanbase that is solely contrived of people we know and love. We miss the bus rides, practices, everything that we associate with being on the team together.

So now, that experience is past me. But I don't think I'll ever be able to forget the fun I had representing my high school team, no matter how good or bad we were at times.