The Heart of the Game

Recently I watched a documentary about a Seattle high school girls basketball team and their coach called The Heart of the Game that I first heard about on Ebert and Roeper. During the last fifteen minutes of the movie, what started as teary eyes and sniffling evolved into a full-on blubbering extravaganza. I was so overcome by the emotion and the suspense of the film that I just fell apart. I actually clutched my dog in my lap and sobbed. I cried even harder during the "making of the movie" behind the scenes feature, and then I cried some more throughout the "where are they now" special feature because of scenes I would tell you about but I want you to experience it for yourself. I did the kind of crying where before you know it, the collar of your t-shirt is soaking wet and you start hiccupping and are unable to breathe properly. Now, this was during a pretty hormonal time of the month, but I can't remember the last time I was so emotionally affected by a movie. The last true crying jag I went on was when I lay on the living room floor listening to "Tomorrow Is a Long Time" by Nickel Creek on repeat for an hour while boo-hooing my brains out. But that was a while ago.

If you're interested in this movie, I recommend not reading too much about it beforehand. Reviews and even the most basic summary of the film might take away from the enjoyment of being surprised by things that happen as it goes along. It was just so moving to me. I think part of why I loved it so much stems from how organically it all came together, which I learned about by watching the special features. It doesn't give too much away to say that the filmmaker met the coach at a friend's house and was invited to watch a practice and it all went from there. Then he spent the next seven years of his life of following these girls and this amazing coach.

And another reason I think it made me dissolve into prolonged, unending tears was because it reminded me so much of the high school girls I taught. And the truth is that even though I hated lots about teaching, I really did love being around high school kids because some of them -- the ones who didn't behave in such an asshole-like manner that I never really got to know them -- were some of the most hilarious and talented and awesome people I've ever met. And I think I cried because I wished I could have gotten through to the assholes and actually taught them something -- and let them teach me something, too. I cried because there is still an idealistic part of me that wishes I could have been to them what this coach was to his players. And because I wish I'd been an athlete so I could have had someone be that to me.

It starts off kind of slowly, but if you stick with it, it's gripping, powerful, funny, inspiring, and really just something I feel blessed to have experienced. It made me want to grab hold of life and try to do something great for myself and for other people. It made me want to have the courage to fight for what is right and against what is wrong. It made me want to become a real sports fan. It made me want to create art and tell stories. It made me want to work with teenagers somehow. It made me want to be fierce and brave and to find ways to bring out the best in myself and in everyone I love every single day. I know it sounds silly that a movie about girls basketball could do that. But I'm telling you. It really did.